Chapter Six

Dougal Ross's estate was lit with so many lanterns that Clarissa could see the aura of their glow on the grounds long before she saw the estate itself. The night sky illuminated in a welcoming golden hue. The carriage they—her brother and Gwen, and she and Alexander—rode in slowed as it approached the line of coaches arriving for the ball.

She was unsure of what had been discussed between Alexander and Nicholas after she'd left the library. But her brother's mouth was set in a stern line whenever his gaze fell upon her and Alexander.

Alexander.

Had she almost kissed him?

Aye, she had. His lips were so close to hers in the moment before Nicholas had barged in without a care in the world.

She supposed she should be thankful he'd done so. But, oh how she longed to feel Alexander's kiss. To have his mouth capture hers in the most decadent of ways.

She sighed loudly, trying to clear her thoughts.

But it was impossible.

Her hands were clasped on her lap, and she couldn't help but wring them together. Her nerves were on edge, jumping with a fiery intensity. Mostly because Alexander sat so very close beside her on the seat. His thigh brushing against her leg heated the whole right side of her body making her very aware of his presence. Every bump in the road deepened the touch and she bit her lip to refrain a moan from escaping her mouth.

If Alexander noticed her reaction, he'd remained completely neutral. Showing an amount of restraint that Clarissa could only wish she possessed. His hands remained on his lap, and just when Clarissa was sure their closeness had no effect on him, and Nicholas turned his attention to the window, Alexander discreetly reached out his pinky finger, stroking her leg through the material of her gown.

Her breath hitched and her eyes snapped to her brother, who thankfully hadn't noticed the gesture. However, Gwen's eyes twinkled with delight.

Nicholas turned from the window and Alexander broke the contact. "We've only a few carriages in front of us and then we can enjoy some fresh air."

Alexander cleared his throat.

Mayhap he was just as bothered as she was.

"'Twill be nice to stretch our legs," Alexander said, his voice clipped.

Mayhap indeed, but she did not dare look in his direction for fear of drawing her brother's attention. Having Gwen see was bad enough. Clarissa wasn't worried that she would say anything to Nicholas. She knew her secret was safe with Gwen. For now.

But Clarissa also knew that her discretion wouldn't last forever. At some point she would tell Nicholas. She could only imagine how her brother would react.

The carriage stopped and the door swung open. "After ye," Alexander offered.

Clarissa hesitated for a moment, then plucked her reticule off the bench and made her way down the step and waited for the others to disembark.

Gwen followed, then Nicholas, and then finally Alexander. He looked amazing tonight. He'd added a few accessories since she'd seen him earlier in the library. A sporran, which she tried to keep her eyes away from that area completely. He had the Campbell tartan draped over his shoulder, the clan brooch holding it in place.

"Shall we?" Alexander asked, sweeping his arm towards the entrance.

"Aye," Nicholas answered, holding out his arm for Gwen to loop hers into.

Alexander did the same, waiting expectantly as Clarissa's eyes bounced from him to Nicholas. Should she accept his proffered arm? Would people get the wrong idea? Would they start a rumor? She had already agreed to give him the first dance.

What would they say if they saw her arriving on his arm?

"Sister," Nicholas called to her, holding out his other arm so he could escort the both of them inside.

Worrying her bottom lip, she stole a glance at Alexander and noticed the flash of hurt in his eyes before he quickly masked it.

"Go on, lass. Ye must no' keep your brother waiting."

Still, she paused.

"Dinna fash. I will be right behind ye."

Nodding, she gave him a small smile and joined her brother and Gwen.

*

Alexander followed thetrio into the estate and paused as they were announced. He would be remiss to say he didn't want to be the one to escort Clarissa into the ball.

He did.

He wanted everyone there to ken she was his.

And he was hers.

Hell's teeth. What was he thinking? That because they shared a moment in the library that they were destined to be together?

It was as if he had an angel and the devil on each of his shoulders. The angel prodding him to pursue Clarissa and the devil jabbing him with his pitchfork whilst telling him a relationship was the last thing he needed.

But damn. He wanted to spend a day in the library with Clarissa discussing her favorite books and the parts she liked about each one. That she was well-read only added kindling to his growing fire.

As they entered the ballroom he had to tamp down the animal inside him wanting to claim Clarissa as his and scare anyone away that had the nerve to approach her.

But thoughts of their library encounter made him wonder if she was warring with the same indecision that he was. He wondered if she felt the same spark? To him, it seemed so, or mayhap that was just him being wistful.

Granted, they were far from making anything official, but if Clarissa said the word, he would pledge himself to her in a heartbeat.

His vantage point following behind her gave him a fantastic view. The sway of her hips as she walked ahead of him had his body roaring to life. He quickly averted his eyes and tried to focus on anything but the vision in front of him.

As Clarissa was announced Alexander could see all the eligible men in attendance perk up. Of course, they would want to marry the sister of a duke. A most advantageous union it would be for anyone here.

Including him, but that wasn't why he longed for the lass.

Nay, awareness dawning on him. After months of thinking about her. About not being able to get her out of his mind. He realized his feelings were deep and genuine. He didn't care about whatever dowry she came with. Hell, he would reject the dowry if it meant he would be given the permission to marry her. Because if he were ever to propose to her, his affairs would be in order. He would offer her naught less.

The Gordons entered the ballroom and Alexander stepped forward. As his name was called, he noted the fair share of women that focused their attention on him. He and Clarissa had much in common this night—eligibility.

A few months ago, he would have jumped at the opportunity to be surrounded by willing lasses vying for his attention. His hand. His title. Not for anything serious, but he had had his fair share of lasses.

But now? Nay. None of them held his interest. They all seemed dull, and dare he say, paled in comparison to the beautiful Clarissa.

He descended the stairs and was immediately bombarded with mothers introducing their daughters. There was Miss Leticia Peregrine. Miss Prudence Wentworth. Miss Annalise Covington.

On and on the introductions went. He smiled and acknowledged each, but his mind was elsewhere as they prattled on about their likes and talents.

His eyes searched for Clarissa in the crowd, and he frowned. The poor lass had her own horde of suitors that were queuing up to introduce themselves.

The orchestra started and his eyes clashed with Clarissa's.

She'd promised him the first dance. And he was hellbound to ensure she kept that promise.

"Excuse me, ladies. 'Tis verra nice to meet all of ye. But I apologize, I am pledged to someone else for this dance."

He extracted himself from the crowd of women amongst their groans of disappointment and made his way through the crowd until he could reach for Clarissa's hand and lead her onto the floor.

With a look of relief, she accepted his offered hand and dipped into a small curtsy, hurrying away from the men—men who did not deserve Clarissa, he noted—and clasped his hand, resting her other on his shoulder as they twirled around the floor.

Her cheeks were flushed, a beautiful tinge of pink that brightened her eyes and gave them more of a sparkle than they usually held.

"Have I told ye how beautiful ye look this eve?" He meant every word he said. Clarissa could stand beside everyone in attendance and none of them would be able to hold a candle to Clarissa's beauty. Her elegance.

"I believe ye may have mentioned something similar in the library earlier."

Her eyes twinkled with a wicked gleam.

"'Til your brother so rudely interrupted us."

She laughed. The sound melodic to his ears. Everyone on the dance floor. Everyone in the room. All melded into the walls as if they weren't there sharing the space with them. Only he and Clarissa existed in this space.

"Aye, his timing was impeccable this afternoon wasna it?"

She ducked under his arm and spun, tapping her toe on the floor twice and then they joined hands again, and he led her around the floor.

"If I didna ken any better, I would think he was trying to interrupt our kiss."

Her eyes rounded in surprise at his forward statement. She looked around at the crowd around them to see if anyone had heard his words.

"Ye must no' say such things," she whispered. "Especially where people can hear ye."

"Ye wanted it too, did ye no'?"

"We shouldna have—"

"Shouldna have what? We did naught wrong. Naught happened. But no' because I didna want it to." He let his words hang in the air. For their meaning to sink into Clarissa's thoughts. He didn't want to leave any doubt about his feelings for her.

"Alexander," she breathed. The music stopped and they broke apart, bowing and curtsying as proper.

Viscount Heathton cleared his throat behind Alexander and broke into their unfinished conversation.

"Your Grace. Miss Gordon has promised me the next dance," he said meekly.

Alexander had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. This sod had to be delusional if he thought he had any chance at Clarissa's hand.

Clarissa lifted her chin defiantly. "Aye, I did." She dipped down to Heathton and looked back at Alexander longingly as the viscount led her off to dance.

His hands balled into fists at his side. He was certain the scowl on his face showed the man how unhappy he was about the intrusion. But he wouldn't compromise Clarissa in any way. If she'd promised the dance to Heathton, then he'd make sure she kept that promise.

But he didn't have to like it.

And he didn't.

Not one bit.

A hand clapped him on the shoulder, startling him. "Who's got ye all riled up, brother? Ye look ready to tear someone's head off." Nicholas asked from beside him.

Alexander tried to relax. To brush off the possessive thoughts running through his mind.

Nicholas's eyes followed Alexander's gaze and then snapped back to his. "Did ye meet Heathton? He's shown an interest in Clarissa. He will probably call on her in the coming days."

"Och, hell no, he willna." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Nicholas narrowed his eyes and then his brows raised in question. "What am I witnessing? Why do ye care who Clarissa—" his words tapered off as dawning washed over him. "Ye and Clarissa?" He asked.

Alexander remained silent.

"Are ye and my sister…"

He didn't finish the question, but he didn't have to. "Of course no'." Alexander spat.

"I ken that look. Ye want to. Ye want Clarissa."

Alexander found Clarissa on the dance floor. Heathton was talking, and she was feigning interest in the conversation. He could tell she wasn't interested because every time they twirled, her and Alexander's eyes clashed, and her look was scorching. But when her gaze returned to Heathton, they dulled.

Yet, the man didn't seem to notice. Nor did he ever run out of things to say. The sod hadn't stopped talking since they'd started the dance.

"Ye canna have Clarissa." Nicholas stated, his voice low in warning. "We have already had this discussion."

Alexander met his gaze. "I would ne'er do anything to hurt her."

Nicholas shook his head. "That is no' my concern. Though your past with the lasses leaves much to be desired," he quipped. "After our conversation last night, what can ye offer her? Ye yourself said ye were on the brink of financial ruin. Ye could lose your estate. Then what? Ye expect me to want my sister to be destitute?"

"Ye ken I would ne'er let that happen."

Nicholas sighed, pushed his hands through his hair in exasperation. "Alexander, I love ye like a brother. I ken ye better than anyone. I ken your past. Your fear of commitment. Settling down. My sister needs better than that. Nay, deserves better than that."

Alexander opened his mouth to dispute what Nicholas had just said. But he couldn't. His friend was right. He didn't have anything to offer Clarissa.

And she deserved the world.

"Your Grace," Dougal Ross called from a few paces away as he wound his way through the crowd.

Alexander blew out an exasperated breath. He didn't want to deal with Ross right now. Nay, instead he wanted to find the largest decanter of whisky within his reach and wallow in his misery. But now wasn't the time. Instead, he plastered a smile on his face and acknowledged Ross.

"Ross. Thank ye for the invite once again. Your wife is most gracious to allow no' only myself to attend, but my friends as well. May I introduce ye to Nicholas Gordon, Duke of Gordon?"

"Your Grace," Ross dipped into a bow. "'Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope ye and your family are enjoying yourselves up to this point."

"Aye, thank ye. 'Twas verra kind for ye to include us."

"Think naught of it. My wife always says the more the merrier." He turned to Alexander. "Your Grace, may I have a private word with ye? I mean no disrespect to ye, Your Grace," he said, addressing Nicholas. "'Tis in regard to the matter we spoke of yesterday."

Alexander nodded. "My friend is aware of the situation, but I appreciate your discretion. Is there someplace the three of us can speak away from prying ears?"

"Aye. This way, if ye will."

Alexander and Nicholas followed Ross out of the ballroom and across the foyer. Down a long hallway they entered a room with double doors on the left. They entered what Alexander guessed was Ross's study.

Nicholas's countenance was stiff. Alexander was certain he was not happy nor done with the conversation they were having when Ross appeared.

Ross shut the doors behind them. "Please, sit." He pointed to the chairs. "Would ye like a drink? Cognac, wine, whisky?"

"Whisky." Both Alexander and Nicholas said in unison.

Ross nodded and poured out three glasses, before handing them each one and keeping the third for himself.

"Ye're certain I can speak freely?" He asked, eyeing Nicholas.

"Aye. He is aware of my situation." The words tasted sour in his mouth. Clarissa entered his mind. Surely, she was dancing with someone else. Another suitor no doubt. He knew he didn't have anything to offer her right now. That would change. He felt it was too early for his best friend to dismiss him so easily as a viable suitor for his sister. As if he would ever hurt her. Put her in harm's way.

He would never.

Ross cleared his throat, and Alexander focused his attention on the man.

"As I said yesterday, your sheep are with the American now in charge of the Kitt estate."

Alexander nodded.

"He arrived no' too long ago."

Alexander pushed to his feet, the whisky sloshing from his glass onto the carpeted floor.

Nicholas rushed up behind him and grasped his shoulder. "Sit down, brother. Ye canna go out there charging like a bull. Settle down and think."

"I dinna ken how eager he will be to strike a deal. He's mostly interested in becoming a member in high standing."

"Then surely he would want to make nice with the duke of whose sheep he currently finds himself in possession of," Alexander stated.

"One would think," Ross agreed. "But I am no' so certain." He paused and sipped his whisky. "I dinna ken what his status or occupation in America was, however, he does strike me as conniving."

Nicholas frowned. "How so?"

Ross shrugged. "He gives me the impression that he would go to great lengths to get what he wants. Laws and morals be damned."

Alexander drew in a deep breath through his nose and exhaled in a rush. He just wanted his sheep back. To ensure their safety.

"How about this?" Ross suggested. "We approach the man. I introduce the two of ye and then ye can go off and discuss your options in private. Strike a bargain so both of ye are happy with the outcome. Beyond anything else, Kitt wants status."

"Ye will need to tamp down your anger to talk with him," Nicholas warned. "If ye do that, ye should be able to strike a deal."

"I canna believe I need to barter for my own flock. Christopher crossed the line with this stunt."

Ross lifted his brows at the mention of Christopher. "Where is your brother, Your Grace? I havena seen him at the tables as of late."

"Your guess is as good as mine. He left yesterday and hasna been home since." In the back of his mind, worry over his brother ate at his defenses. But his brother was a grown man. He should have kenned better than to gamble away anything that would hurt them and their holdings. Alexander found it hard to have sympathy for him at the moment. Mayhap after he secured his flock he would feel differently. But as of now?

Not a chance.

He rubbed his hands together, stretching his neck as if he were getting ready for a round of boxing in the ring. "I'm going out there. I'm anxious to talk with the louse."

"Well, then, let us go. I shall introduce ye straightaway."

Alexander went to follow Ross out the door and back to the ball, but Nicholas held him back with a hand on his shoulder. "Your anger is coming off of ye in waves. Cool it down."

He shrugged Nicholas's hand off. His words to steer clear of Clarissa still stung.

"'Tis none of your concern. I'll handle the situation."

Leaving the room, the music of a waltz filtered down the hallway. And though he was on a mission, he couldn't help but wonder who Clarissa was dancing with now.

Who was waltzing her around the dance floor? Whose hand was at her waist?

The thought had him balling his fists and stomping down the corridor.