Reaching for the jacket on the bed, Hastings walked it over to Alden. “I think you should try to make her jealous.”
Alden accepted the jacket. “And how do I go about doing that?”
“You should take a sudden interest in one of the young women that Miss Sidney introduced you to,” Hastings responded.
“That is quite impossible, considering I would not suit with Mrs. MacBain or Miss Fraser,” Alden said.
Hastings shrugged, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Sometimes the impossible is what makes the game interesting,” he said. “What about Miss Cowen? Is Miss Sidney not introducing you to her today?”
“Yes, but I have no idea what she is like,” Alden said.
“Does it matter?” Hastings inquired. “It is not as if you have to marry the young woman.”
Alden slipped the jacket on. “And what if Miss Sidney doesn’t care that I am showing interest in Miss Cowen?”
“She will,” Hastings said confidently. “It has been my experience that people tend to want what they can’t have.”
“It just seems like a game that I don’t want to play,” Alden remarked.
Hastings picked up the discarded clothing from the floor. “Courting is a game, one that you intend to win,” he said. “Besides, what do you have to lose?”
Alden winced as the bagpipe music seemed to grow louder, making it almost impossible to think. “I hate bagpipes,” he muttered.
“I rather enjoy them, but Mrs. Hardy is awful,” Hastings remarked.
“She just started playing.”
Hastings glanced at the window. “Dying animals sound better than her playing the bagpipes.”
Alden chuckled. “I agree, wholeheartedly.” He walked over to the door. “I am going to ask her to stop.”
“I wish you luck,” Hastings said.
As Alden departed from his bedchamber, he headed downthe stairs and stepped out into the chilly morning air. He approached Mrs. Hardy from behind. He didn’t wish to startle her, so he gently tapped her on the shoulder.
Mrs. Hardy stopped playing the bagpipes and let out a slight scream. She turned around and her eyes grew wide. “Mr. Dandridge, you frightened me.”
“I’m sorry. That was not my intention,” Alden said. “May I ask why you are playing the bagpipes at such an early hour?”
Mrs. Hardy smiled. “I thought you might enjoy waking up to the soothing sounds of the bagpipes.”
Alden resisted the urge to laugh. There was nothing soothing about the bagpipes, especially when Mrs. Hardy played them. “That was kind of you,” he said.
“Shall I keep playing?” Mrs. Hardy asked, bringing the reed to her lips.
“Good heavens, no!” Alden rushed out. “I mean… you have already played for so long. I don’t want you to get tired.”
Mrs. Hardy bobbed her head. “Perhaps I should stop for a little while and catch my breath.”
“I think that is a wonderful idea,” Alden said. “May I escort you back to the manor?”
“Yes, the coach is just around the bend,” Mrs. Hardy replied.
As they started walking towards the coach, Alden asked, “Do you enjoy playing the bagpipes?”
“I do, and I think I am getting quite good at it,” Mrs. Hardy replied.
Alden didn’t dare contradict her, but he suspected she was getting worse with every blow into the reed. “Well, practice does make perfect.”
