“Good morning,” Alden muttered, his gaze still fixed on the falling snow.
Hastings approached the wardrobe, selecting Alden’s attire for the day. “The coach should be arriving soon to take you to the church.”
“Wonderful,” Alden said, his tone flat.
After Hastings removed the clothing from the wardrobe, he placed them on the bed. “I do believe a green jacket and a red waistcoat would be most festive today. What do you think?”
Alden shrugged. “I care little about that.”
“Is there something on your mind, sir?” Hastings asked.
Turning to meet his valet’s gaze, Alden asked, “Why can’t women be more predictable?”
Hastings responded with an understanding smile. “If that was the case, life would be very boring. I take it this is about Lady Elinor.”
“It is. She is maddening,” Alden said as he walked over to the bed.
“Women usually are, especially when you have feelings for them,” Hastings remarked knowingly.
Alden shifted uncomfortably. “I may have some feelings for her, but that is not what is important.”
“Of course it is important,” Hastings countered. “And I do believe your feelings are much deeper than you care to admit.”
“No, that is impossible. Women love me, not the other way around,” Alden remarked.
Hastings grinned. “Is it possible that you have finally met your match?”
As Alden started dressing, he grew quiet. Was Elinor his match? No, that could not be. He wanted to marry her only because he wanted this horse farm. Yet, the thought of waking up next to her every morning held an undeniable appeal.
Botheration.
Hastings was right. He cared deeply for Elinor. But love? That was impossible. He couldn’t- no, he wouldn’t- fall in love with Elinor.
Hastings stepped forward, offering Alden the cravat. “With all due respect, I do believe your silence speaks volumes.”
Alden accepted the cravat, tying it with a deft hand. “You may be right,” he admitted. “I care for Elinor, but I won’t fall in love with her.”
“I never said anything about love, sir,” Hastings pointed out.
“Good, because it is foolish to even think about such a thing,” Alden responded.
Hastings tipped his head in agreement. “However, what do you intend to do with the horse farm if you convince Lady Elinor to marry you?”
Alden frowned. “I want to sell it, but I suspect Elinor wouldn’t marry me if I did such a thing.”
“Most likely,” Hastings said, “and Scotland is growing on me.”
No truer words had ever been said. When Alden had first arrived, he couldn’t wait to leave this blasted country, but now he found the horse farm a reprieve from life, just as Elinor had. What was happening to him? He had a plan. But his plan was shifting, and it was all because of Elinor.
Alden walked over to the mirror and adjusted his cravat. “Regardless, I am not quite sure I can convince Elinor to marry me since she wants love,” he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration.
Hastings looked amused. “I am sure you will find a way.”
“I wish I had your optimism,” Alden sighed.
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation and Hastings crossed the room to answer it. A footman stood there, announcing, “The coach is out front, sir. The driver is ready to take you to the church.”
“Thank you,” Alden acknowledged, casting one last critical glance at his reflection. Everything was in place, but he couldn’t help wondering if Elinor would find him lacking.
