“You are married, not dead,” her aunt said. “And I believe Mr. Dandridge to be an honorable man.”
“I cannot believe that Alden has won you over,” Elinor remarked.
Rising, her aunt asked, “And why wouldn’t he? He saved you from being committed.” She approached her and placed a hand on Elinor’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go eat something from the kitchen? I asked Mrs. Beaton to leave a plate out for you.”
Elinor’s stomach rumbled again. “I could eat.”
Her aunt laughed. “I can always eat. It is a terrible curse, really.”
Turning towards her aunt, Elinor said, “Thank you.”
“For what, my dear?”
Elinor grew solemn. “For speaking about your husband,” she replied. “I know how much it pains you to speak of Uncle John.”
Her aunt withdrew her hand, and her eyes grew sad. “I miss John. Every single day. We may have only had a short time together, but what we did have will last forever.”
“I hope to love Alden as much as you loved John,” Elinor said.
“You will,” her aunt replied. “Opening your heart is scary, but sometimes the only way to protect it is to open it.”
Elinor knew her aunt was only trying to help but surely it couldn’t be that simple. What if she loved Alden and he never returned that love? The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she knew she had to take one step at a time. For now, she would go eat something.
“I suppose I should eat before it gets too late,” Elinor said, trying to push aside her worries.
Her aunt glanced out the darkened window. “I think thatship has sailed since it is almost midnight,” she joked. “But come, I will walk you down to the kitchen.”
“There is no need. I can go on my own,” Elinor insisted, noticing the yawn that had just escaped her aunt’s lips.
“I am rather tired,” her aunt admitted.
“Then you should go to bed,” Elinor encouraged gently.
“Very well,” her aunt said, walking over to the door. She stopped and turned back, her face softening with a look of regret. “I’m sorry your uncle ruined Christmas for you.”
As Elinor approached her, she responded, “I will admit that it made for a very interesting Christmas this year.”
“Interesting?” her aunt asked, opening the door. “That is not the word I would have used.”
Elinor followed her aunt into the darkened corridor and said, “Goodnight, Aunt Cecilia.”
“Goodnight, my dearest,” her aunt said before she disappeared into her own bedchamber, leaving Elinor alone with her thoughts.
Elinor made her way to the kitchen, her steps echoing softly in the quiet manor. She carefully descended the servants’ stairs, the cool stone underfoot adding to her awareness of the late hour.
As she reached the kitchen, she realized she was not alone. A shadowed figure was moving about, making an absurd amount of noise. Her heart skipped a beat until the moonlight streaming through the windows revealed Alden’s face. Relief washed over her at his presence.
“Alden,” she said softly.
He turned towards her, surprise evident on his face. “Elinor? What are you doing awake?”
She moved closer, standing beside him. “I could ask you the same thing.”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “I’m afraid I am rather famished, and I was looking for something to eat.”
“Did you check the table?” she asked, pointing to the plate with a white linen napkin draped over it.
Alden shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “That would have been far too simple.”
