Chapter Two

Millwool Castle, Six months later

Alexander Campbell cradled his head in his hands, irritation coursing through his veins like wildfire. The cause was none other than his younger brother.

Christopher sat across from him, slumped in a chair, fidgeting nervously while his eyes bounced around the Duke of Argyll's study.

"All of them are gone?" Alexander questioned, his voice ominously quiet. He was referring to their flock of sheep. Prize-winning sheep. Sheep that produced the finest wool which kept them fed and their holdings secure.

"Aye."

"Shite!" Alexander cursed. "Are ye daft? What the hell were ye thinking?"

Christopher flinched, his face pale as he straightened. "I didna mean for things to take such a turn. I was doing verra well—until I wasna."

"I kenned I should have hired someone to watch over the books while I was away." Alexander stood, pushing away from his desk, the chair legs scraped angrily along the polished floorboards, and braced his hands on the desktop, glaring at his brother. "Ye are out of control. Your carelessness has put Millwool in a precarious position."

But he wasn't only angry at his brother; this was partially his fault. His brother had naught interest in running the estate, and as had now been proven, naught knowledge in it, as well.

"I ken. I will fix it."

Alexander barked out a laugh. "Pray tell how ye will do such a thing?" He jabbed a finger in his brother's direction. "And dinna ye daresay ye will win it back at cards. Your subpar game skills are the cause of this current predicament in which we find ourselves in."

"I just need two, mayhap three, well-played hands at the tables and the flock will be back in Campbell hands." Christopher sounded as though he actually believed what he was saying.

"Och, nay. If ye think I am going to stand by and allow ye to gamble Millwool's future away, ye are more daft than I originally believed." He shook his head in disbelief. "I wasna e'en gone verra long. No' this time. 'Twas one thing when ye managed to ruin our estates finances while I was off serving. But hell's teeth, brother, I was gone but a fortnight, and ye managed to lose our livelihood?" Alexander pushed his hands through his hair. He wanted to throttle his brother. Make him understand the dire consequences he had put them in. Instead, he poured himself a whisky and drank deep, letting the smooth burn as it wound its way down his throat try to calm his nerves. But it failed to quell his anger. Maniacal laughter burst from Alexander. "I dinna ken how ye could have been so careless."

The statement was only partially true. Their finances were a mess. Christopher lacked the maturity and knowledge to run a household. It was going to take months to repair the damage he'd done. But losing the sheep? That was the hardest thing to take.

Where were the sheep now? Were they being well-tended? He only cared about their safety. Aye, they were animals, but Alexander cared for them, nonetheless. He, like their father, had always treated them well. Had raised the wee lambs from birth. That flock was the means behind their successful family.

And now they were gone.

"Brother. Ye're overreacting." The words hung in the air, but there was no fight behind them.

Christopher stood, and Alexander studied him, taking in the tired creases around his eyes. The way his shoulders slumped in defeat. His unkempt brown hair standing out in all directions.

With a sigh, he addressed his brother. The urge to beat some sense into him lessened. He could tell Christopher was punishing himself more than Alexander ever could. "Go get washed up and get some sleep." He jerked his head towards the door. "Ye look like hell. When ye're rested, we can discuss our plan for reacquiring our flock."

He watched Christopher amble out of the study and pushed his hands through his hair once again before pouring himself another whisky and emptied the glass in one sip, hissing as it burned his chest. His brother had made a dire mess of things and depending on whom he'd lost the sheep to determined how difficult it would be to regain them.

Alexander only hoped that luck would be on their side, and it wouldn't prove to be as challenging as he expected.

But above all, his biggest worry was there was no guarantee that the flock was being cared for as they required. He hoped they had some type of shelter to allow them to get out of the elements if needed. Was the area where they were being held safe from predators? Worse yet, he prayed they had not been sheared. Lord, he hoped no'. He didn't want anyone making money off of Campbell wool that wasn't a Campbell. Especially someone that didn't deserve to have his sheep in the first place.

Setting the glass down on his desk, his eyes grazed the books that showed every poor choice his brother had made for Millwool while he'd been gone. They had a long road ahead of them to clean up his mess, but the most important thing was to regain possession of their sheep.

He had some money stored away, thankfully in a place his brother hadn't thought of looking or he feared he would have lost that money as well. Alexander only hoped it would be enough to pay off his brother's debts so he could bring the flock back home. His sheep weren't the only thing he had to worry about.

Tomorrow, Nicholas Gordon would be arriving, along with his wife, Gwen, and his younger sister, Clarissa, for their planned visit. It had been a few months since their wedding. It was the last time they had seen each other, and Nicholas had recently sent word that he and Gwen would like to visit for some time. It was only later that he learned that Clarissa would be accompanying them. His body flared to life at the thought of his best friend's sister. She'd blossomed into a stunning woman while they were away at war fighting for their country. He hadn't believed his eyes when he'd seen her when he'd first visited Huntly after his return. Her dark brown hair long and flowing, her doe like brown eyes rich as the drinking chocolate he'd consumed in France.

Unable to spend any meaningful time with her on his initial visit to her home, he was able to spend a bit more time with her at Nicholas and Gwen's wedding. But not enough to satisfy his liking and he hoped to rectify that while she stayed at Millwool.

Nicholas had alreadywarned her against him. He had also told Alexander to stay away from his sister. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Aye, his friend knew him better than anyone else. He'd had more than his fair share of the lassies, and his bed had never been lonely. Until he'd seen Clarissa. She had blossomed into a beautiful woman, and he had been enraptured. Ever since then, he couldn't help but notice and admire her, the other lasses failing to capture his attention the way they once did. He had tried. Lord had he tried. But losing himself in a woman did not hold quite the same appeal as before.

But Nicholas didn't know that. If Alexander had a sister, he would also warn her against someone like him. A man who approached women for one purpose, a man averse to commitment. He only had his father to blame for that mindset. As the man had always said, why settle down with one lass, when you could have a never-ending stream of them? That way one never got bored by being committed to one woman.

Alexander didn't want to be bored. He had seen how boredom overtook his father and how loathsome he began to feel towards his mother. He never wanted to feel that way with a woman. It was easier to keep his freedom. And his heart. No one could break it if he didn't allow them to have it.

And yet, there was Clarissa, consuming his every thought.

The image of her seared his eyelids at night when he went to bed, falling asleep to the memory of her soft laughter.

The timing could not be worse for their visit, though. He would have to divide his time between playing host and trying to recover his lost flock of sheep. "Och, bloody hell," he cursed to himself and walked from the study. He had things far more important to do. Things that his livelihood, not just his, but everyone he was responsible for, were dependent on. The last thing he needed was the distraction of a beautiful lass keeping his mind occupied on anything but the business at hand.

*

"Good morn, brother,"Christopher stated as he entered the sunroom where Alexander had decided to break his fast, the serene surroundings having a calming effect on his overactive nerves. He studied his brother over the rim of the paper he was reading.

"Ye seem verra cheerful for someone who has lost the family fortune."

Christopher scowled but looked ashamed as he poured himself a cup of tea and added two cubes of sugar and a splash of milk. Stirring the concoction, he tapped the spoon on the side before dropping it to the table and addressing his brother. "I dinna need your constant reminder of what I've done."

"Nay? Ye think no'?" He folded the paper closed and tossed it onto the table. "I've been through the books. Did ye forget about everything I'd taught ye before I left? Ye're lucky I came home when I did. Otherwise, I would have come home to Millwool in someone else's hands and ye and the staff living on the streets."

"Ye over-exaggerate, brother." He sipped his tea with a roll of his eyes.

"I dinna." He studied Christopher. He looked better rested than he did last night. "Who has my sheep?"

Christopher blanched. Any color that he had drained away as he pushed out a breath, not meeting his eyes. "Ross."

"What?" He felt the urge to beat his brother, return. "Dougal Ross?"

"Aye."

Dougal Ross was one of the most feared debtors on this side of Edinburgh. There was no way in hell he would accept the same price for the sheep that Christopher had lost to him. Nay, Dougal knew how much those sheep were worth to Millwool, and he would expect to be compensated justly.

"Do ye ken what ye have done?"

"Och, aye. I do." Christopher said, glaring at Alexander. "I ken quite well. Ye willna let me forget, thank ye. If ye'd only let me—"

"Absolutely no'," Alexander cut him off before he could finish the sentence. "Ye've done more than enough damage." He pushed away from the table. "Looks like I'm going to have to pay a visit to Ross. Ye better hope he is willing to strike a deal."

"I am sorry, ye ken. I didna mean for any of this to happen."

Alexander held up a hand. "I dinna want to hear anything more. Ye can now run around without the worry of the household on your shoulders. But take heed, brother, stay out of the damn gambling houses. If I hear word of ye even stepping foot in one, I'll have ye locked in your room."

"Ye canna do that. I am a grown man."

Alexander spun and bent down so he was eye to eye with his brother. "Are ye now? Grown men ken their responsibilities. They dinna squander their livelihood on cards. 'Tis no' just ye that ye need to worry about. So many people depend on us. Are ye truly that selfish?" He gave Christopher a shove and left the room, paying no attention to the tea that sloshed from his cup onto the floor.

Dougal Ross was known to hang around the gambling houses, stepping in whenever someone lost big. Striking a deal that would leave the house paid and the gambler indebted to him. Meeting with Ross was going to be most unpleasant. He'd be lucky to leave there with a clue as to where his sheep were. Ross was good at making deals. But he was no farmer. He wouldn't have the slightest idea what to do with a flock of sheep. More than likely, they'd already been sold.

"Shite!" Alexander cursed as he walked away, fists clenched at his sides.

*

"How long willwe be staying at Millwool?" Clarissa Gordon asked Gwen, her now sister-in-law. She tried to feign interest and appear nonchalant about their upcoming visit, but though she was sure she could hide her feelings from Nicholas, Gwen was much too observant.

"Your brother says at least two weeks. So, pack accordingly." Gwen picked up the blue gown Clarissa had removed from her wardrobe and laid it out on her bed. "This one is gorgeous."

It was one of her favorites. A beautiful periwinkle blue that paired well with her dark hair. She hadn't worn it yet and was saving it for a special occasion, whatever that may be.

"Is it too much? Should I leave that one?"

Gwen raised a brow in question. "Too much for what? Is there a particular someone ye may be trying to impress while at Millwool? Someone who happens to be the said Duke of Argyll?"

Clarissa straightened. "Dinna speak of such things. My brother will have your tongue," she snapped.

"I've no worry of your brother." Gwen laughed. "I've found he is much like a sweet puppy under that tough exterior."

"I dinna believe he would be happy to hear ye describing him as such," Clarissa quipped.

Gwen swatted the statement away and refocused her attention on the gown. "I think 'tis perfect. Most certainly we will attend a ball or two whilst we are visiting.

"Ye think so?" The thought of attending any event with Alexander Campbell made Clarissa's heart jump in her chest and had her pulse accelerating.

Her mind kept jumping to when Alexander had arrived at Huntly for Nicholas's party several months ago. When their eyes had locked, heat had surged through her body. It wasn't the first time she'd seen her brother's best friend. Quite the opposite. He'd visited often in their younger years. But it had been some time since they'd seen each other.

Time away in which they'd both grown. He'd always been handsome. Tall and broad, with thick, wavy black hair. The curls made it unruly and often, she wanted to tuck a wayward curl behind his ear. She would admit to sneaking many a glance at her brother's best friend as she watched the pair run around the grounds from afar.

But when she'd seen him after his return, those feelings flooded her tenfold. She was no longer a young lass. She was of marrying age. And her body flared to life with such a force it scared her. So much so that she had grabbed Gwen's hand and yanked her in the opposite direction.

"Have ye decided?"

Gwen's voice broke into Clarissa's thoughts, and she shook her head to clear her memories.

Gwen and her brother, Nicholas, had been married for a few months now. Gwen was her brother's match and equal in every way and she'd never seen him happier than when he met Gwen. And she'd fallen into the sister role naturally and happily. Clarissa surmised it was likely due to Gwen only having brothers. It was nice to have someone near her in age to talk to.

To discuss things with. Things such as men and marriage. It was also nice to have someone to share the care of her younger siblings with. While her brother was away, their mother seemed to forget she had children, and the care fell to Clarissa. She didn't mind overmuch. She loved her family dearly. But she would admit that she was looking forward to the respite and just enjoying herself while she was away. She would have no one to watch over other than herself.

Clarissa sighed. The gown was too beautiful to be left behind. "I must take it with us. Mayhap 'twill be of use."

Gwen clapped her hands in glee. "Excellent choice, Clarissa. Now, hurry, we mustn't keep Nicholas waiting."

They set to work packing the rest of Clarissa's items and then sent word to have the trunk loaded on the carriage. Clarissa's heart thumped a steady staccato as the time to leave neared.

Would Alexander take notice of her? Or would he still see her as Nicholas's younger sister? Only time would tell. And she vowed to make him see her as the woman she was. She was getting older and soon would be considered too old for the marriage mart. But she would not just settle for anyone. Nay, she wanted Alexander Campbell. He would be her husband.

He just didn't ken it yet.

"Ready?" Nicholas poked his head in the room, smiling wide when Gwen turned her attention to him, his eyes softening with affection. "We've a good stretch of road ahead of us afore we arrive at Millwool. Let us begin our journey." He held out his hand and Gwen hurried to him and scooped it up into hers.

As they made their way down the hall, Nicholas spoke again. "Who kens. Mayhap ye will find a worthy suitor for ye whilst there."

Clarissa rolled her lips inward to stop her from blurting out Alexander's name. She already kenned what Nicholas's answer would be. He had warned her numerous times to stay clear of his best friend. The man was a true rake. But rakes could be reformed.