The constable turned his gaze to Alden. “Is yer wife mad, sir?” he asked. “Do ye want her put away?”
Alden shook his head, his voice resolute. “My wife has never been, nor ever will be, mad.”
“That is good enough for me,” the constable said. “I recommend ye get a warrant from the sheriff tae have themarriage officially registered by the local registrar. Guid day.”
Once the constable departed from the room, Alden met Lord Inglewood’s gaze. “You are no longer welcome here, my lord. Pack your trunks at once and leave us.”
“I am still Elinor’s uncle,” he declared, his voice rising in defiance.
Elinor released Alden’s hand and approached her uncle. “Why, Uncle?” she asked. “Why would you go to such great lengths for me to marry a decrepit man?”
Her uncle pursed his lips, his expression sour. “I don’t answer to you.”
“No, but I do believe you owe me an explanation,” Elinor said. “My father would have been so disappointed in you.”
His eyes flashed with anger. “I am tired of hearing what a saint your father was. You would think he walked on water. I am not him! I am my own man!” he shouted. “And I needed your dowry to keep the estate afloat. The duke agreed to return the dowry to me if you married him.”
“That is despicable,” Aunt Cecilia muttered under her breath.
In a calm, collected voice, Elinor said, “I agree with my husband. You are no longer welcome here.”
“Elinor—” her uncle started.
She put her hand up, cutting him off. “You can save your breath. Nothing you say will change my mind.”
Her uncle narrowed his eyes at Alden, seething. “This is all your fault! You ruined everything. I should challenge you to a duel.”
Alden took a step forward, his expression unyielding. “Name the time and place?—”
Elinor interjected, “Absolutely not! No one is going to fight a duel. That is the end of the discussion.”
Her uncle harrumphed. “I see who wears the pants in your marriage,” he muttered.
“It is time for you to go, Uncle,” Elinor said. Her voice brooked no argument.
“Fine,” her uncle said, waggling his finger at her. “But mark my words, you will regret marrying Mr. Dandridge.”
Elinor moved to stand by Alden. “I don’t think I will.”
Her uncle performed an exaggerated bow before departing from the drawing room, leaving Elinor with her husband.
Her husband.
What had she been thinking?
Chapter Fourteen
Alden couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. He had a wife now. And it was Elinor. He had gotten precisely what he had wanted. Now he would inherit the horse farm. But by the look on Elinor’s face, it was evident that she was far from pleased. Not that he blamed her. She had been adamant about only marrying for love, and now she found herself bound to him in a marriage of necessity. He hoped she would eventually see it as the better option compared to an asylum.
Mrs. Hardy’s voice broke through the silence. “Well, that was rather exciting,” she said, turning to Alden. “Thank you for what you did for Elinor. You saved her from Lord Inglewood.”
Elinor nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Yes, thank you.”
Glancing between them, Mrs. Hardy said, “I do believe that much needs to be said between you two. Why don’t I give you a moment?”
“I think that would be for the best,” Alden responded, his eyes lingering on Elinor. He would give anything to know what she was thinking at this precise moment.
Mrs. Hardy offered her niece an encouraging smile before she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
