Mrs. Hardy beamed. “I will be happy to wake you up tomorrow with the bagpipes.”
“That is kind of you to offer, but I prefer to wake up gradually,” Alden responded.
“I understand,” Mrs. Hardy said. “Furthermore, tomorrow is Christmas.”
Alden glanced over at her. “I had almost forgotten about Christmas.”
Mrs. Hardy gave him an understanding look. “You must be sad to not be with your family for Christmas.”
“Quite the contrary, I’m afraid. My family does not make a big ado out of Christmas,” Alden admitted. “It is just another day.”
“That is a shame,” Mrs. Hardy responded. “I do want to thank you for convincing Elinor to decorate the manor for the holiday.”
Alden brushed off her praise. “It was nothing.”
“It was more than nothing,” Mrs. Hardy remarked. “I have been trying since we moved here but Elinor had been insistent. She keeps up a strong façade, but I know she is hurting. Deeply. Christmas is hard on her.”
“She has told me as much.”
Mrs. Hardy tipped her head. “Elinor must trust you if she is willing to confide in you,” she said.
“We are friends.”
“I see,” Mrs. Hardy said as she approached the coach. Alden held his hand out to assist her inside. Once she was situated, he climbed in and sat across from her. He reached for the blanket and placed it onto Mrs. Hardy’s lap.
The coach began moving and Alden turned his attention towards the window. He watched the horses grazing in the distance.
Mrs. Hardy’s voice broke the silence. “It is rather idyllic, is it not?”
“It is,” Alden was forced to admit.
“I hope you don’t mind but Elinor told me that you intend to sell the horse farm once you are married,” Mrs. Hardy said. “I do believe that is a mistake.”
Alden brought his gaze to meet hers. “Do you now?”
“I do, and that is because Elinor loves this horse farm,” Mrs. Hardy replied. “It is a part of her.”
“I respect that, but I must do what is the best for me,” Alden said.
Mrs. Hardy considered him for a moment before saying, “That is the problem. You are only thinking about yourself.”
“Who else would I think about?” Alden asked, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.
As she removed the bagpipes off her shoulders, Mrs. Hardy replied, “There comes a point in our lives when we must realize what is worth fighting for.”
Alden lifted his brow. “And what should I fight for?”
“I can’t tell you that,” Mrs. Hardy replied. “Everyone must decide that for themselves.”
“What do you fight for?” Alden asked, genuinely curious.
Mrs. Hardy smiled. “That is easy,” she replied. “I fight for my niece, Elinor. We help one another, but I suspect she doesn’t need me as much as I need her.”
The coach came to a stop in front of the manor and a footman came around to open the door. After Mrs. Hardy stepped out, he followed her onto solid ground, feeling the cool morning air on his face.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go lie down since I woke up entirely too early to play for you,” Mrs. Hardy said as they stepped into the entry hall. “You might be interested to know that Elinor is in her study.”
“At this hour?”
