Chapter One

Huntly Castle, 1815

Alexander Campbell, Duke of Argyll had not visited Huntly Castle, the ancestral home of his best friend, Nicholas Gordon, in years. Not since he'd left to serve his time in the Peninsular War. Something he'd done as his duty to the country, but also something he was glad was now over. While his station afforded him the high position of general, there were many others that fought alongside him that held no such privilege. Together, they'd witnessed atrocities that no one should be subjected to.

As his carriage bumped along the cobblestone path that would lead Alexander to the front entrance of the castle, his body jarred from side to side. It hadn't been a smooth journey from his own castle, Millwool, in Inveraray. For two days, rocky roads caused the carriage to shift roughly, jostling him about. His arse was sore, and he was looking forward to escaping the suppression of the cabin. The walls seemed to be closing in on him. The air was stifling, and he loosened the knot of his cravat, so it didn't feel so restrictive.

He would be much happier if he was riding his horse with the fresh air caressing his skin instead of sitting inside this box. But he had to make a proper appearance and while the Berline offered more space than what he needed just for himself, it was the best he had to endure the journey from Inveraray to Huntly. It had been two long, trying days and he was glad to be seeing the tail end of the ride. His patience had evaporated outside of Braemar, when they'd had to stop and replace one of the wheels.

A sharp knock on the carriage wall followed by, "We shall be arriving shortly, Your Grace," had Alexander sitting up straight. The need to stretch his legs called to him.

The upcoming week would be spent catching up with friends who were all gathering to celebrate Nicholas's return. More than certain a demand of his meddling mother. God bless her. She only wanted what was best for her son, but Hell would freeze over before Nicholas hosted his own return party. Ofttimes, his friend just wanted to be left alone.

The carriage ground to a halt, causing Alexander to jerk in his seat. The footman opened the door, the dust of the road kicked up by the horses settling around them. Stepping out, he paused, taking in the castle's facade. The forbidding grayish-brown stone always a direct contrast to the cheerfulness of the inside, filled with light and love. It would be hard to be anything but with the seven Gordon siblings inside.

Alexander hadn't the faintest idea how Nicholas dealt with his six brothers and sisters, especially the younger ones, a set of ten-year old twins that brimmed with energy. He only had his twenty-two-year-old younger brother, Christopher, to deal with and that one sibling was almost more than he could handle.

He didn't want to think about the mess of the estate finances Christopher had created while Alexander was away.

"Campbell," Nicholas bellowed from the arched doorway.

Alexander grinned, all thoughts of Christopher pushed from his mind as he closed the distance. "Brother, how do ye fare?" he asked Nicholas. Not brothers by blood, but they'd spent so much time growing up together, they might as well have been.

"I am well. Though I must confess my mother has been quite busy." He rolled his eyes at the mention of the Gordon matriarch.

They clasped hands and smacked each other on the back. "Aye, seems so," Alexander chuckled and followed Nicholas inside, greeting Reginald, the Gordon family butler as he passed. "I've heard mumblings about an engagement?"

They rounded the corner and turned down the hall that would lead them to the study.

Nicholas huffed. "Och. I dinna want to speak of it. She has…"

Up ahead, a vision sent from heaven above stood there. Alexander hadn't seen her in a few years.

Clarissa Gordon. Nicholas's sister.

Nicholas's voice faded into the background as he continued to talk.

The years had been kind. Very kind. She'd grown into a stunning beauty. Her black hair was curled and piled high on top of her head, showing off her slim neckline, which was only accentuated by her ample bosom. His body roared to life, and he shifted slightly. Unable to tear his eyes away.

When their gazes clashed together, Clarissa's brown eyes rounded, her lips parting, before she clamped her mouth shut and grabbed the lass she was with, tugging her along as they went in the opposite direction and disappeared out the door.

"Alexander?" Nicholas questioned. "Ye all right?"

Alexander nodded, but nay, he was most definitely not as he stiffly followed Nicholas into the study and grimaced as he took a seat in one of the leather chairs.

Nicholas filled two glasses with whisky and handed him one. Accepting it, he tried to tamp down the groan that threatened to escape him.

Clarissa was Nicholas's sister. His best friend's younger sister. Nicholas would never allow it and rightfully so. His reputation with the lasses was known far and wide and commitment wasn't something he could comprehend.

But the vision of the lass was seared into his memory, and no amount of whisky would wash that away.