Chapter Seventeen

Clarissa's heart dropped. She would not be the cause of Alexander losing all that he held dear. If Jacob Kitt wanted her to spend time with him, then she would do so. She had not heard of either Alexander or Nicholas mentioning a deadline.

She had heard whisperings that Alexander had visited the bank to try to garner the funds needed to pay off his bid but didn't ken the outcome. Hearing him say that he would need to use Castle Millwool as collateral to secure the loan was something that she was against. What if something went awry and he couldn't pay back the money? His home would be turned over to the bank.

As duke he would be ruined.

It was a horrible situation to be in and Clarissa did not wish that on Alexander in any way. But she had just overheard Alexander and Nicholas's conversation. To save her, Alexander was willing to put his whole livelihood in the bank's possession.

She would not allow it. For once in her life, she knew the solution and planned to take matters into her own hands. Making her way up to her bedroom, she dug out a piece of parchment and quickly scribbled a note to Jacob Kitt, agreeing to his terms. But she would have to be careful of her movements. If Alexander even had a hint of suspicion of what she was doing, he would stop her before she could carry out her plan.

To not raise any suspicions, she added instructions to have his coachman wait on a nearby road and she would meet them there. Tomorrow morning at nine.

Signing the letter, she sealed it and sought out one of the housemaids, and after making her promise discretion, gave her the missive to deliver to the Kitt estate.

Naught else could be done but for her to wait. On the morrow, she would give Kitt what he wanted—a day with her—and then be done with it. Alexander would get his sheep back and then they could move forward. Nicholas could no longer deny that Alexander was unable to provide for her as needed since Alexander would have his livelihood back.

All will be well. And finally, finally, she and Alexander would be together.

As she retired for the night and laid down in bed, pulling the soft duvet up to her chin, visions of her and Alexander together danced in her mind. She pictured how happy and thankful he would be to her. He would propose and they would have a grand wedding.

She fell asleep with a smile on her lips and Alexander's handsome face behind her lids.

*

"What is yourplanned course of action?" Malcolm asked as the friends gathered in Alexander's study.

Alexander regarded his friend, shame settling on him like a cloak. He should not be having these discussions. He should never have been in this situation. Damn ye, Christopher, he thought.

He pushed his hands through his hair. "I am embarrassed to make such a confession, but as I dinna have the funds needed, I have naught choice but to go to the bank and offer up Millwool as collateral."

The multiple intakes of breath from each of his friends hit him like straight shots to the gut.

"Are ye sure, brother?" Nicholas asked, concern etched across his face.

Alexander nodded. "Aye. I willna allow that bloody American to lay a single fecking hand on Clarissa. No' now. No' e'er. Nor will he harm my flock. If he thought his threats to start killing my sheep would have me agreeing to his terms regarding Clarissa, he is sorely mistaken. I will see the ground run with his blood before such a thing happens." He pushed up from his chair and paced the floor of his study. "If 'tis Millwool that will get me out of this predicament, then I will do just that."

"Just how much do we ken about this Kitt fellow?" Malcolm asked, rubbing his chin.

"No' much," Alexander answered. "I am no' e'en certain when he arrived on British soil."

"Is anyone aware of what he did in America? His position there. His job."

Alexander shook his head. "Nay. I have naught idea of those things." He paused in front of the window and leaned on the sill, his gaze roaming over the fields in the distance that used to be occupied with his sheep. "Judging by how he has interacted here since he has made himself known, I am going to wager a guess that he was just as conniving in America as he is here."

"I would say that is a fair conclusion," Finlay added. "One doesna suddenly become pond scum. I think if ye," he dipped his head in Malcolm's direction, "looked into his past, ye would uncover more of the same type of schemes."

"Aye. I agree with ye, Finlay," Malcolm murmured. "I will see what I can uncover about him."

Alexander nodded. "Thank ye. Though it does me no good at this point in time. Whatever ye may uncover willna help me in my current situation. There just isna enough time."

"All right, back to the bank. Are ye certain they will give ye what ye need and in time?" Nicholas asked, concern creasing his brows.

"Aye. When I spoke with them, they stated as long as I offered up Millwool as collateral that there would be no issue and I would receive funding without pause. That is what I will do."

"I am no' sure that is the proper course of action," Gunn interjected.

"Why no'?"

"Millwool is your livelihood. If ye lose it, ye let your people down. What will happen to them?"

He began pacing again. "If I dinna offer it up as collateral, we will all find ourselves in the slums anyhow. I need my sheep to keep Millwool running. They're our main source of income. I have full confidence that once I have them back, I will be able to pay off the bank note within a couple of years' time. And in doing so, no harm will come to Clarissa or my flock. All will be well. We will just need to figure out a way to get Kitt to return to America. I will be damned if I have to see him show his face around here after what he has done."

"Ye are certain ye will be able to return the bank's funds?" Nicholas asked.

"One hundred percent." But even as he said the words his mind ticked through the numbers and how much wool he would need to sell to repay the note along with the income needed to provide for his people.

Malcolm stood. "I shall poke about in town. See what I can find out about the louse in the short-term. Someone has to have information."

Alexander nodded. "Thank ye. I will get my affairs in order today and will go to the bank first thing in the morn. The funds should be in my hands the day after and then we can take care of Kitt."

"Mayhap we can show him what happens when he comes to Scotland and tries to weasel his way into society," Gunn suggested, grinding his fist into his palm.

The friends chuckled.

"I am no' sure those lengths will be necessary."

Gunn looked disappointed.

"But we can ne'er ken what lengths may need to be taken," Alexander quickly added.

Nicholas stood and moved towards the door. "If we are done here, brothers, I must go to my wife."

"Och, certainly."

The friends hooted and hollered in jest.

"Ye lot are uncouth. My wife wants to stroll the gardens. I promised her I would."

Nicholas's love of gardens was known to all, but Alexander believed it was the company of Gwen that would hold Nicholas's attention and not the flowers and shrubbery of Millwool's gardens.

"Enjoy your walk."

"I shall take my leave as well," Malcolm spoke up.

"Care for some company whilst ye do your digging, Malcolm?" Finlay asked.

"If ye like. Just let me do the talking."

Everyone exited the study and scattered into different directions. Alexander looked around the corridor, empty now that his friends had departed. He wanted to go find Clarissa, bury his head in her neck and forget about all his troubles. To seek comfort in her arms. He exhaled loudly into the empty space.

The things he wanted to share with her, do with her. Until he had his livelihood back, they were all just distant dreams that he had no right wanting. But his heart had other ideas. No matter how much he told himself that Nicholas would never allow a union between them, visions of her on their wedding day, their wedding night, her pale skin flushed as she lay beneath him, later visions of her belly, round with their child—all those images flooded his mind.

He smacked the wall, trying to clear his head and headed back into his study, pulling his books from the drawer and slumping into his chair to go over Millwool's numbers for the umpteenth time, knowing they had not changed from the last time he had done so.

A vision of Clarissa laid out on his desk before him had him pushing back from his books and heading to fill his glass with the strongest whisky he had. Quickly, he knocked back the amber liquid, letting the burn warm his throat and chest as he refilled his glass.

He was certain Clarissa felt the same way he did. She had alluded to it on multiple occasions and the promenade that Gwen slyly arranged between them solidified it.

They only needed to convince Nicholas that his sister would be safe in Alexander's arms. Surely, his best friend must realize by now that he would never do anything to put her in harm's way. He had vowed as such on multiple occasions. And once he had his sheep back, his income would no longer be in question, so he would be able to provide Clarissa a stable life deserving of her station. She would be a duchess after all.

Clarissa Campbell, Duchess of Argyll. He smiled as the title rolled off his tongue.

He liked the sound of that.