Mr. Dandridge’s smirk grew. “You said it correctly, but you might want to work on the delivery.”
Elinor laughed. “I can do that, but it is only fair if you call me Elinor.”
“I would like that, Elinor,” Alden said. The way he said her name caused a fluttering in her stomach. An unwelcome fluttering. Why did this keep happening? She had no interest in Alden.
“Alden is not a common name, especially for the son of an earl,” Elinor remarked. “May I ask where it is from?”
“It has ties to Old English and can be traced back to the given name Ealdwine, which translates to ‘old friend’,” Alden shared. “My mother heard it once and she thought it was a fitting name for me.”
Elinor held his gaze as she admitted, “I think it fits you.”
“You do?” he asked. “Because when I was younger, I would have given anything to have a common name like Matthew, Alexander or John. It would have stopped the teasing I was forced to endure at Eton.”
“Not everyone is meant to fit in. Sometimes it is far better to stand out,” Elinor said.
Alden cocked his head. “Do you wish to stand out?”
Elinor winced. “I did, at one point,” she said. “But I attracted the attention of the Duke of Mardale.”
“Is that the person you were supposed to marry?” Alden asked gently.
She nodded. “It was.”
He leaned closer and said, “I can see why you ran away, especially since his person gives off an offensive odor.” He paused. “That, and he is fifty years your senior.”
“Thank you,” she said, relief in her voice.
“For what?” Alden asked, his expression puzzled.
Elinor smiled. “For understanding,” she said. “Many people thought I was foolish to run away from a marriage to a duke.”
Alden returned her smile. “I am not one of them. In fact, it only confirms to me that you are indeed brave.”
Before she could respond, Bryon stepped into the entry hall and announced, “Dinner is ready.”
Alden glanced at the stairs. “Should we wait for your aunt?”
“I don’t rightly know,” Elinor replied. “She went to retrieve her bagpipes for the purpose of serenading us.”
“Now you have me intrigued,” he said, offering his arm. “I think it would be best if we waited for your aunt in the drawing room.”
As Elinor accepted his arm, she felt a sudden jolt of awareness. She realized she had made a crucial error. She had developed feelings for Alden- feelings that she knew she had to push aside because they would do her no good.
Chapter Eight
As Alden escorted Elinor to the drawing room, he sensed a subtle but significant shift between them. He still held out hope that he could convince Elinor to become his wife. They got along well enough, and, truth be told, he found her rather intriguing. The only problem was that she was against a marriage of convenience. She wanted love, and that was something he could not offer. To him, marriage was a simple business transaction, nothing more.
When they reached the doorway of the drawing room, Alden noticed a piece of mistletoe hanging above them. Elinor followed his gaze, and he saw her visibly tense.
Turning her to face him, Alden said, “We are under the mistletoe. You know what that means.”
“It means nothing,” Elinor replied firmly.
“No, it means we have to kiss.”
Elinor huffed. “We don’t have to do anything.”
Alden grinned, feeling the urge to tease her. “Careful, it almost seems like you don’t want to kiss me.”
