Elinor must have seen his reaction because she said, “I thought you might be tired of Scottish food.”
Alden reached for his spoon and dipped it in the soup. He brought it to his lips and savored the familiar taste. “It is delicious,” he acknowledged.
“Mrs. Beaton can cook a wide array of foods. All you have to do is ask,” Elinor informed him.
“Thank you,” Alden said.
Elinor held his gaze for a long moment before she turned her attention towards her soup, and he couldn’t help but notice the faint blush that colored her cheeks.
Turning towards him, Mrs. Hardy drew his attention by asking, “How did it go calling upon Mrs. MacBain?”
“It went well, I suppose,” Alden responded.
Mrs. Hardy beamed, as if she were privy to a secret. “Isn’t Mrs. MacBain a delight?”
“She is something, all right,” Alden muttered. He truly didn’t want to delve further into the topic with Mrs. Hardy.
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Hardy said. “Well, you will greatly enjoy Miss Isobel Fraser’s company. She is quite an accomplished singer.”
Elinor spoke up. “Yes, she often performs for the village.”
Alden placed his spoon next to his empty bowl. He hadn’t realized how hungry he had been until that precise moment. He found that he was not terribly fond of Scottish food and preferred the comforts of British food.
With a glance at his bowl, Elinor asked, “Would you care for more?”
“No, thank you,” Alden replied.
“I will inform Mrs. Beaton that you enjoyed the soup,” Elinor said.
Alden reluctantly dropped his gaze with Elinor, wondering what was going on with him. He found that he enjoyed being in Elinor’s company far too much. Which would not do. He would need to be mindful to guard his heart, a heart that was supposed to be impenetrable.
The morning sun streamed into Elinor’s bedchamber, casting a warm glow over her room as she lay in bed. She had slept restlessly, her dreams dominated by thoughts of Alden. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him, becoming a rather bothersome presence. If she had her way, he would pack his trunks and leave the horse farm once and for all.
But he wouldn’t do that.
It appeared that he wanted this horse farm as much as she did.
Elinor’s mind kept replaying the moment they almost kissed. His breath had been warm, pleasantly free of any garlic scent, and his lips had looked so inviting, almost intoxicating. She had wanted to kiss him, and would have, if her aunt hadn’t interrupted them. This would not do!
She needed to stop thinking about Alden and focus on getting him to leave. It was the simplest solution, especially since he wanted to sell the horse farm. If that happened, she and her aunt would be kicked out of their home. She couldn’t let that happen.
A knock came at the door before it was pushed open, revealing Sophia. “Good morning,” she greeted. “How did you sleep?”
“I slept well,” she lied, forcing a smile.
“Shall we dress you for the day?” Sophia asked, walking over to the wardrobe. She pulled out a pale pink gown. “I do believe this dress will do nicely. What do you think?”
Elinor shrugged. “I do not care what dress I wear.”
“You might not, but perhaps Mr. Dandridge will,” Sophia responded with mirth in her voice. “I heard he was rather attentive to you last night.”
“He was no such thing.”
Sophia came to sit down on the edge of the bed. “Didn’t you two almost kiss under the mistletoe?”
Elinor pressed her lips together. “How did you hear about that?”
“The whole manor is talking about it,” Sophia declared. “It is not every day that the mistress of the manor has a handsome suitor.”
