Mrs. Hardy laughed. “She lives and breathes for this horse farm. You would be wise to remember that.”
Alden didn’t need to be told twice. He found he was rather eager to see Elinor this morning. Quite frankly, he was eager to see her all the time. She was giving him far too many reasons to smile, which was beginning to be problematic.
Elinor sat at the desk as she reviewed the accounts. The early morning light filtered through the window, casting a soft glow over the papers strewn across her desk. Tomorrow was Christmas, and though memories kept flooding her mind, she repeatedly pushed them away, determined to focus on her tasks.
Alden’s voice broke through the silence. “Good morning,” he greeted.
She looked up, surprised to see him leaning against the door frame, a soft smile playing on his lips. “What are you doing up so early?” she asked.
He pushed off from the door frame and walked closer to the desk. “I could ask you the same question.”
“I’m afraid I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted. “There is always something to do.”
“I wish that was my reason to be awake, but it is because your aunt was playing the bagpipes just outside of my window,” Alden shared.
Elinor grinned. “That sounds like my aunt.”
With a glance over his shoulder, Alden asked, “Which one of us is going to tell her that she is awful?”
“That is not a conversation I wish to have with her.”
Alden sighed, taking a seat in the chair facing the desk. “Neither do I. When are we going to call upon Miss Cowen?”
“After breakfast, assuming that is all right with you,” Elinor responded.
“It is,” Alden said. He then studied her intently. “How are you faring?”
“I am well,” she answered, her tone was less convincing than she hoped.
Alden’s gaze didn’t waver. “Are you?” he asked gently. “Ionly ask because tomorrow is Christmas and I know that this time of year is hard for you.”
Elinor felt her back grow rigid. “I will be fine.”
“It is all right if you aren’t,” Alden said.
“I said I will be fine,” she responded curtly. She didn’t want to have this conversation with him… with anyone, for that matter.
Alden put his hand up. “I did not mean to upset you,” he said. “But if you wish to talk, I am here to listen.”
Elinor knew that Alden was only trying to help so she softened her tone. “That is kind of you, but I just try to keep myself busy around this time. The less I think of it, the better.”
“I think that is a mistake,” he said.
“Do you?” Elinor asked, her voice holding a warning. “And why, pray tell, is that?”
Alden continued. “I think it is best if you talk about your loved ones that have passed on. It helps you remember them.”
Elinor scoffed. “You would know this how?”
His eyes grew sad. “I have lost loved ones over the years and each loss leaves an imprint on my soul.”
“I’m sorry,” Elinor responded.
“What was your mother like?” he asked.
She closed the ledger in front of her and abruptly rose. “I can’t do this now,” she said, her voice strained. “Shall we adjourn to the dining room?”
“We can, but I still would like to know,” Alden insisted.
