Chapter Thirteen

Alexander wanted to reach out and close Clarissa's hand in his but the look on Nicholas's face gave him pause and instead, he cleared his throat and stepped back himself.

Not wanting to embarrass her, he gave her a warm smile, hoping that she could see that he appreciated her gesture.

"I did indeed have the winning bid for my flock."

Clarissa clapped her hands together, a little bounce to her step. "That is great." Her gaze met his and she cocked her head to the side. "Why are you no' celebrating? This, above all else, is surely a cause for celebration. Is it no'?"

He grimaced. Did he want to tell her the whole story? Nay, he didn't. And he wouldn't. Not now. Mayhap not ever.

"'Tis naught for ye to fash over. I just need to meet with Kitt to pay my bid in person. But," he rubbed his palms together. "Right now I am famished. Anyone else?"

Confusion fluttered across her delicate features, darkening her eyes.

He tried to ignore the look, but it was so hard.

"Let me check in with Cook and see what she has available on short notice, and we can dine. Everyone, please gather in the dining room. I will join ye shortly."

He excused himself to find Cook, but Gunn stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Are ye all right, brother?"

That was a loaded question. One he didn't really have an answer for. He was thrilled he rightfully won the bidding. Though he was pissed that the stranger in the auction forced the bids so high. On purpose, Alexander kenned. If he were a betting man, he would bet Millwool that the man was sent at the request of Kitt to drive up the price. It was common knowledge that without his sheep he had no income coming in other than his annual stipend, but that was far from being paid for the upcoming year and this year's payment had already been spent.

Or lost, rather, thanks to Christopher.

Alexander barked out a maniacal laugh. "Och, aye. Splendid. Thank ye for asking."

Gunn eyed him warily. "Ye dinna seem so."

"Really? Really? I have just lost thousands, I repeat, thousands to regain a flock of sheep that were rightfully mine to begin with."

Gunn clucked his tongue. "There was definitely something amiss about the bidding."

"Aye, I deduced that already. Somehow that man at the auction and Kitt were colluding. I dinna ken what his plan is, but I will get to the bottom of it. And that bastard will pay. Way more than the thousands I now owe him." He spun and stomped off towards the kitchen. "Bloody hell," he cursed to no one in particular.

As he neared the kitchen, he slowed his steps. He didn't want to scare off Cook by barging in there and demanding food. While the woman was more than accommodating, he would get a much better meal if he asked nicely.

The smell of baking bread and roasting venison assaulted his senses the closer he got. The smell was divine, and his stomach rumbled in want.

Cook was hunched over a table, mortar in hand as she pulverized some spices into a scrumptious seasoning, he was sure. She looked up as he entered and set the pestle down and wiped her hands on her apron.

"Your Grace, what can I get ye?" Her round face was red and her hair, just starting to gray, peaked out of the mobcap she wore. But nonetheless, she gave him a warm smile.

"I ken ye are otherwise occupied, but would ye mind putting something together for everyone in the dining room? Do ye have anything ready? Finger sandwiches would be fine."

"I shall see what I have and get it to ye soon." She shooed him out of the kitchen. "Now, leave me alone and go entertain your guests."

"Thank ye. Ye are a gem."

"That is what they say. Dinna forget or ye may lose me to another estate," she jested.

"Ne'er. I willna let ye go." He laughed but turned to her once again. "Truly, Cook. Thank ye."

She waved her hands at him in a sweeping motion. "Go now, Your Grace, before ye make me blush."

In a better mood than he had been just a few minutes before, he thought of Clarissa as he went to meet everyone in the dining room. The way she had run up to him when he walked in the door, concern creasing her forehead, hit him like a gut punch. But when she reached out and clasped his hand? That was the best feeling. It was as if he had just returned home to his loving bride, and she could not wait to see him come back.

He stopped short, closing his eyes, and groaned. Bride. Love. What the hell was he thinking? He was closer to restoring his livelihood, but he had not yet. And Nicholas still appeared to be adamant that he leave Clarissa alone. Even after the talk they had had earlier.

In the dining room, tea had been served, and the chair at the head of the table had been left vacant for him. Normally, Christopher would be sitting at one of the chairs at either side of him, and one of his brothers would take up the others, but not tonight. For one, Christopher was gone. And hopefully not falling deeper into any gambling debts. But two, to his right, Clarissa sat sipping her tea and chatting with Gwen, who sat beside her.

Her gaze slid over to him, and she gave him a shy smile before returning her attention to Gwen and engaging in whatever discussion the two of them had ongoing.

"Cook will be along shortly with something small to fill our bellies until this evening's meal," Alexander announced, before sitting down and pouring himself a cup of tea. Not his beverage of choice, but he supposed he could not drink whisky all day and night.

James appeared and bent down to Alexander. "A missive has arrived for ye, Your Grace." He held out a tray containing the note, and Alexander accepted it.

"Thank ye, James."

With a bow, the butler left just as quietly as he had entered.

He pushed away from the table and moved away from the women's conversation. His friends, sensing that this was business, followed him over.

"What is it?" Finlay asked.

"Is it from Kitt?" Nicholas snarled.

By his reaction, Alexander could tell his best friend was ready to go to battle with the bastard. The thought brought a smile to his lips. He, too, would love to go to war with the louse.

Alexander broke the seal—a brown K—and read the note.

"Well. What does it say?" Gunn asked impatiently.

"He wants to meet. This eve. At his property."

Malcolm nodded. "We will join ye. A collective show of support."

Alexander shook his head. "Nay. Though I appreciate the offer. I believe he will perceive that as weakness. For a man of such small stature, he surely has an ego the size of the hemisphere."

"I dinna like that." Nicholas grumbled.

"Och, he willna attempt any such thing. He is no' calling me to his estate to harm me. Nay, he wants to discuss something. I will go—alone—and see what his terms are. There is no need for a group attack."

"'Twouldna be an attack."

"Pray tell, how do ye think he would perceive all of us marching up to his doorstep for a meeting that was supposed to only be between him and me?" He pulled at his cravat to loosen it and rolled his head from side to side. "I can do this alone."

*

Clarissa tried toconcentrate on what Gwen was saying, but her attention was drawn to Alexander and the group of men on the far side of the room. Hunched together, they were speaking in low voices, and she could not hear what they were saying, no matter how much she strained her ears.

Gwen placed a hand over hers. "Clarissa?"

She gave Gwen a guilty look. "I am sorry. I am trying to—"

Gwen smiled, "Hear what the men are discussing?" She clucked her tongue. "'Tis rude to eavesdrop," she admonished teasingly as she leaned into Clarissa. "I bet ye if we stopped talking and focused, we could make out the conversation."

Clarissa's eyes widened with her sister-in-law's willingness to help her. With a devilish grin, Clarissa put her finger to her lips to silence them both and they listened intently. But it was to no avail. The words remained a secret.

When Alexander's gaze snapped to hers, she jumped. It felt as if he caught her doing something she was not supposed to do. Which, in a way, she surmised was true.

He nodded towards Nicholas and then the men returned to the table, but instead of taking his seat at the head of the table, Alexander announced that he would be taking his leave.

"I am sorry to leave ye all, especially since ye will be eating soon. 'Tis most rude of me, I ken, but there is an urgent business matter that I must attend to. I will check in on Cook afore I leave to ensure she will bring out the food shortly."

He paused by Clarissa, confliction creasing his brows. But whatever it was passed and with a brief nod, he spun on his heel and left the room.

"What do you suppose that was about?" Clarissa asked. She did not address any one in particular.

"I dinna ken," Gwen answered, gazing at Nicholas.

"'Tis regarding his sheep. He is going to talk with Kitt who insisted on a meeting at his estate."

"Is he in danger?" Clarissa asked quietly. Her mind suddenly conjuring up all kinds of unthinkable scenarios. What if he were to get hurt?

"Against that welp? Nay. Alexander can verra well handle himself."

"Ye let him go alone?"

Nicholas sighed. "Alexander is stubborn. We offered to go as well, but he wanted to do this on his own. He will be fine."

But even though she believed Nicholas's words, she couldn't help but think of all the ways things could go wrong. What if it was a trap? What if Kitt had some dastardly plan in place? Alexander was going there alone with no one to help if he ran into trouble. Oh dear. She started wringing her hands together. Her favorite pastime of late, it seemed.

"Dinna fash, sister. I assure ye, he will be fine."

"Let's go for a walk," Gwen offered, and Clarissa knew she was trying to take her mind away from Alexander, but just then, servants entered the room carrying trays of sandwiches and fruit.

Settling back into her seat, she reluctantly filled her plate, but no matter what she did or what conversation was going on around her, she couldn't stop thinking about Alexander and what was transpiring at the Kitt estate. Was he trying to convince Alexander once again to use her as a barter? She would rather be unmarried and a spinster than to be used as a pawn. She trusted Alexander wholeheartedly. But what if Kitt did something that left him no other choice?

What would he do then?