Chapter Four

Alexander didn't want to let Clarissa go. Not when she felt as if she belonged in his arms. He kenned she was embarrassed, but she needn't be. She could have shown up to Millwool in rags, covered in mud from head to toe, and she would still be the most beautiful woman he'd ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes upon.

The urge to show Nicholas and Gwen to their room first so that he could take his time walking Clarissa to hers was strong. But it would be most ungentlemanly of him, so he ignored his want and played the part of a proper host. Leading the trio up the stairs and down the hall to the room he'd chosen for Clarissa.

He pushed the door open and stepped aside, allowing her room to enter. The chamber was bright with large windows overlooking the loch. The walls were painted a light yellow with darker yellow accents. It was the cheeriest room in all of Millwool.

And he thought it fit Clarissa perfectly.

Approaching the windows, she sucked in a breath. "'Tis a beautiful view. Thank ye for your generosity, Your Grace." She turned and dipped into a curtsy.

"Think naught of it. A beautiful view and room deserve a beautiful occupant." Alexander clamped his mouth shut. He wanted to kick himself.

Before she could respond, Alexander gave her a slight bow and took a deep breath of his own, trying to steady his body's response to the lass.

Gwen eyed him, a knowing look causing her eyes to crinkle and her mouth to lift at the corners.

Nicholas thankfully didn't take notice. Alexander would have to keep his emotions out of his best friend's sight. Hard as that would be.

Clearing his throat, he stepped quickly to the door. "I shall leave ye to freshen up. If ye are in need of anything, please do no' hesitate to ask. I will have it sent straightaway." He turned to Nicholas and Gwen. "Now, let us get ye two to your room. 'Tis on this floor as well."

"I ken Nicholas has given his thanks to ye, but I wanted to express mine as well, Your Grace. 'Tis most kind of ye when ye dinna have to go through such measures."

He paused and twirled to the couple following him and smiled. "First, ye dinna have to call me Your Grace. Your husband and I are of the same title. Unless of course, ye would like me to address ye as Duchess Gordon throughout your stay here at Millwool."

Pink tinged Gwen's cheeks and he couldn't help but laugh. "'Tis no' an admonishment. Ye can call me whatever ye like, truly. But I feel that we are more familiar with each other. Ye married my best friend. So, please, call me Alexander."

She nodded.

They resumed their walk. "But I will still address ye as Duchess," he chuckled as he turned to catch her mouth rounded in surprise. "I jest. Whatever ye would like to be addressed as, I will do as ye wish. Here we are." He stopped and pushed open the door and waited for them to enter.

As Gwen passed him, she gave him a warm smile. "Gwen is fine."

He nodded. "As ye wish," he said, returning her smile. Nicholas was lucky to find someone as special as Gwen. She was the first lass to see his best friend for what he was—a caring, kind man that loved deeply and with all his heart.

She saw past his scars. Something that had bothered him for as long as Alexander had known him. But no more. Nicholas could now be seen more often than not without the masks he always used to wear. Masks that would cover the right side of his face and prevent anyone from seeing his marred skin.

Gwen made him confident in himself. If Alexander had any interest in finding a wife one day, he could only hope to find a love as deep as theirs. But that day, if it even existed, was far, far into the future.

His mind wandered to Clarissa. Could she be that love? Absolutely not. What was he thinking? Clarissa could have any man she wanted. She was one of the most sought-after lasses of marrying age. What would she want with him? His reputation with women was kenned far and wide. 'Twas no secret that he had had many lasses warming his bed, sometimes more than one.

But the thought of any lass other than Clarissa did not appeal to him in any way whatsoever. Not anymore. Not since he'd returned from the war and visited Huntly. That didn't mean he was ready for a commitment. Nay. But a challenge? Mayhap. Though he had no desire to hurt her in any way. It was best to keep his distance so as not to be tempted.

Besides, in the off chance that he was struck by lightning and forgot all his qualms against being tied down to a single woman, he had nothing to offer Clarissa other than an estate that he had no idea how he was going to keep up and running if he couldn't get his sheep back.

"Alexander?" Nicholas snapped his fingers in front of Alexander's face. "Are ye unwell?"

He shook his head, clearing the thoughts of Clarissa to the recesses of his mind. "I apologize, I let my mind take a stroll."

Gwen clasped her hands in front of her. "The room is lovely. Extravagant even."

He'd chosen one of the wood paneled rooms for their stay. It had a large four-poster bed centered along the far wall, covered in blue and green linens and piled high with fluffy pillows. It didn't have as many windows as the room he'd given to Clarissa, but this one suited Nicholas much better. It also overlooked the garden. One of Nicholas's favorite things.

"Ye both should have everything ye need. I'll take my leave."

He closed the door and made his way to his study. Well, that was his intention anyway. But, instead, he found himself paused outside of Clarissa's door. The door that stood between him and perfection.

Was she undressing? Bathing? Both scenarios conjured up the most wicked of images in his mind and he had to stifle the groan threatening to leave his lips.

He forced his feet to move. To put distance between himself and Clarissa.

This visit would be the death of him. He could sense it.

Had he made a mistake in agreeing to her accompanying Nicholas and Gwen?

*

Dinner had longago been consumed and both Clarissa and Gwen had retired upstairs to their rooms leaving Alexander and Nicholas to their own devices as they made their way to the study.

At the sidebar, Alexander poured two glasses of brandy and handed one to Nicholas, who accepted with a thank you.

The fire roared and crackled as they settled into the two overstuffed chairs arranged in front of it, watching the flames lick their way up towards the chimney.

Alexander took a sip, savoring the flavor before placing his glass on the walnut table between them. "Ye and Gwen are the epitome of wedded bliss. I can see it every time ye lay your eyes upon her."

Nicholas smiled. "Can ye?"

"Aye. I am verra happy for ye, Nicholas. Ye more than anyone deserves such happiness."

"Thank ye. She does make me feel like a Don. I ne'er imagined my life as 'tis now."

Alexander gave him a smile and focused his attention on the flames once again.

"And ye? Ye are in need of a wife as well. Family line, obligations, and all that."

He sighed and shook his head. If he wasn't so averse to commitment, mayhap Clarissa could be that woman. But he couldn't say that to his best friend. He didn't even ken if she felt the same about him. He thought so. The looks she gave him told him many things without saying a word, but she had not voiced any such feelings.

That was probably a blessing in disguise seeing how he was almost in financial ruin. Nay, he would need to cement his estate's future before he could even think about a pairing with anyone, especially Clarissa.

"No lass has caught your eye? Ye canna go around bedding all ye want with no commitment."

"Och. I ken that. No' that 'tis your concern, but I've no' bedded a lass since we've returned."

Nicholas's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Ye arena serious."

"Aye, I am."

"How come? 'Tis unlike ye."

Alexander shrugged. He wasn't ready to bring up the subject of Nicholas's sister with him. Wasn't sure if he ever would be. "I have other pressing matters that have been of concern."

Nicholas narrowed his eyes and Alexander kenned his best friend didn't believe him, but he didn't press him for information. Not about the lassies. "What matters? Ye have been distracted since we arrived."

Alexander choked on the brandy he'd just swallowed. A rack of coughs making his eyes water. If only Nicholas kenned the thoughts running through his mind. He would not be happy.

Clapping him on the back, Nicholas chuckled. "Hell, brother. There is naught need to get so affected by a mere question." He leaned back in his chair and sipped from his glass, studying the liquid as he swirled it around, a smile tipping the corners of his mouth.

Alexander, finally able to catch his breath, sighed heavily. "Christopher has been," he paused, searching for the right word. "Challenging since I've arrived back home."

Nicholas nodded, more than likely thinking he understood, since he had six siblings of his own that he had to wrangle. But he was certain none of his friend's siblings had ever gambled their family's livelihood away.

"Do ye care to expound on that? I ken Christopher has always been a bit of a thorn in your side. Especially after what he did to your books while ye were serving."

Unable to stop the laugh that burst through his lips, Alexander pushed his hands through his hair, scraping his scalp in frustration. His situation wasn't funny. Not in the least. But at this point he could only laugh.

"Well, ye may have noticed when ye arrived that the Campbell sheep werena on the grounds."

Nicholas tilted his head in thought. "Now that ye mention it, I did no'."

"Correct. That is Christopher's doing."

"Nay," Nicholas sucked in a breath.

"Aye. He actually gambled away the family livelihood. Hell's teeth, no' even only the family's, but the castle's, the village's, all the people we are responsible for."

"Ye no longer have possession of your flock?"

"Nay. 'Tis unbelievable, really. As if him running our books into the ground wasna enough, he added this."

"Who the hell takes sheep in lieu of coin for a game?"

"Aye, I wondered the same thing. Ross was involved."

"Ross!" Nicholas spat out his name. "He kens naught about keeping sheep."

"Which is why he is no longer in possession of them. He's sold them off." Alexander pushed out of his chair and approached the fire, grabbing the poker and stabbing the logs. Sparks shot up in every direction, but he ignored them, taking out his frustration on the defenseless wood.

"To whom?" Nicholas asked.

"That's another thing. We've a new resident in town. An American."

Nicholas frowned. "Really? I havena heard, but I only ken the happenings around Huntly for the most part."

Alexander nodded. "Aye, he's apparently the only living relative of old man Seamus Kitt," he sighed. "And now that he is here in Argyll, he's looking for a way in to society."

Nicholas barked out a laugh. "And this is his way of solidifying that? He must be daft."

"My thoughts as well. But right now, he holds the upper hand. I talked with Ross today. He and his wife are hosting a ball tomorrow night. We are all invited. Apparently, the American will be there as well. I'm hoping I can talk him into selling me the flock back."

"Do ye think he will?" Nicholas finished his brandy and Alexander lifted the bottle off the sideboard and refilled his glass.

"I dinna ken. But I need to try. And pray that he will be willing to barter."

"'Tis a shite situation." He looked around the study. "Where is Christopher? I dinna believe I've seen him since we arrived."

Alexander shrugged. "He was with me when I paid Ross a visit. He left soon after we got home. I havena heard him come back. All I ken, is he sure as hell better no' be in the game houses. I warned him to steer clear of them, but he's stubborn. And angry." He drained his glass and poured himself a refill, drinking deep, wishing he could drink his problems away.

"What does he have to be angry about? Other than his own stupidity?"

"He's put off that I left him in charge of the books instead of hiring someone to take over the estate's finances. I had gone through the books with him before I left. Thought he was more than capable." Oh, how wrong he'd been. He should have gotten the clue when Christopher would look at him with glazed eyes as they pored over them, Alexander explaining the different transactions that needed to be paid and when.

Their predicament was as much his fault as his brother's.