Alexander’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Well, I suppose that is a good opportunity,” he hesitated, “for someone like you.”
Alden had never shared a close relationship with his brother, but time only seemed to make their relationship worse. Alexander’s pretentious nature and relentless reminders of Alden’s perceived inferiority gnawed at him. He wanted to prove Alexander wrong. He wanted to prove everyone wrong.
“I think I will take it,” Alden said, intentionally withholding the specifics of the inheritance condition. Alexander didn’t need to know everything.
Alexander placed a hand on his shoulder. “Dress warm, Brother,” he mocked. “I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”
Alden stood in the entry hall, watching his brother walk away. He resolved to go to Scotland, marry and inherit the horse farm. With the money from selling it, he would prove to Alexander and everyone else that he was not merely a spare. He was worth so much more. He knew he was capable of great things, but he just needed a chance to prove himself.
Miss Elinor Sidney walked down the aisle of the stables, her gaze moving from one horse to the next with a sense of pride. Each Galloway pony under her care represented a legacy she was determined to uphold.
She stopped before a stall where Skye, a bay-colored mare, greeted her with a soft nicker. Elinor laughed. “Do you want an apple?” she asked.
Skye nickered again, seemingly in response.
Reaching into a nearby bucket, Elinor retrieved an apple and extended it towards Skye. “Here you go,” she said.
Without hesitation, Skye accepted the treat eagerly.
Elinor ran her hand down the mare’s neck, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for her life in moments like these. If it hadn’t been for Lady Edith, she might have been relegated to a life of a governess.
Approaching her was Calen, a tall and lanky groom who had been a guiding hand since she had first arrived. He had assisted her in learning the ropes of managing a horse farm.
“How’s Skye daein’ today?” Calen asked, coming to a stop nearby.
Elinor dropped her hand and turned to face him. “She appears to be doing quite well,” she said. “I just gave her an apple.”
Calen chuckled. “Ye spoil her, Miss.”
“It is hard not to,” Elinor responded. “And how is your wife?”
A proud smile spread across Calen’s face. “She’s daein’ well. She’s with bairn again,” Calen announced.
Elinor smiled. “That is wonderful news.”
Calen’s chest puffed out in pride. “I’m hopin’ for a lad this time, especially since we’ve already got two lassies.”
“There is nothing wrong with girls,” Elinor countered gently.
“Aye, true enough,” Calen agreed. “Though it does get a bit much now that the lassies outnumber me.”
Elinor’s smile grew at that thought. “I am sure you will survive,” she retorted. “If you will excuse me, I should be heading back for breakfast.”
Calen tipped his head. “Good day tae ye, Miss.”
As she exited the stables, Elinor pulled her cloak tighter around herself. The Scottish winters were harsh, and she knew firsthand the fortitude required to endure them. The manor stood ahead, its roof dusted with a fresh layer of snow, a serene backdrop against the chilly morning.
She approached the main door and was met by Bryon, the duteous, white-haired butler, who promptly opened it for her with a courteous nod. “Good morning, Miss Sidney,” he said, his words holding the kindness she was all too familiar with.
Stepping into the warm embrace of the entry hall, Elinor unclasped her cloak, feeling the thaw of the chilly outdoors. “It is rather cold this morning,” she remarked, handing her cloak to Bryon.
“That is to be expected,” Bryon responded as he accepted the cloak. “It is winter in Scotland.”
“Has my aunt come down for breakfast yet?”
“Indeed, she has. She is in the dining room,” Bryon confirmed.
“Thank you, Bryon,” Elinor acknowledged gratefully before making her way towards the dining room.
