“Woah,” Gwen set her cup and saucer on the table and joined her at the window and put an arm around her shoulders. “Ye are worrying overmuch on this. Alexander is too smart to let that wee troll win this.”
Clarissa giggled at the nickname Gwen gave the American.
“He is a wee bit trollish, is he no’?”
Gwen squeezed her into a hug. “Aye, he is. And he isna worth us wasting time thinking or talking about him. Alexander is a powerful duke. He will win this battle easily.”
She sighed, her eyes focused on the path that led to the outbuilding where the auction was being held. She couldn’t see the building, but there had been people traveling the road all day.
“Come,” Gwen urged, tugging gently on her arm. “Have some tea and we will wait for the men to return. They shall no’ be much longer, I presume.”
She took one last, long look at the path, and acquiesced.
“Nicholas and I saw ye and Alexander in the garden yesterday.”
Clarissa’s face flamed as her eyes shot to Gwen’s.
“Ye seemed to be enjoying yourselves,” she added with an impish smile.
A sudden lump had formed in her throat. Though Gwen was well aware of her feelings for the Duke of Argyll, Clarissa’s mind raced to the time she had spent with Alexander there. They had not kissed, regretfully, but also thankfully since they had been seen. But there were a few intimate moments.
Her cheeks set aflame as she tried to choose her words wisely. “Aye, I was going for a stroll in the garden, and he wanted to give me a formal tour. He caught me just as I was going out the door.”
“Hmmm, seems quite coincidental, do ye no’ think?” She asked innocently.
Clarissa shrugged, plucking at a piece of lint on her skirt. “I thought it was verra kind of him.”
“Aye, I agree. Did ye like it?”
Her eyes shot to Gwen. “Like what?”
“The garden,” she said, a brow lifted in amusement. “I mean, ye did say he was giving ye a formal tour, did ye no’?”
She nodded. “’Twas lovely.”
“Hmph.”
“Why are ye making that noise? Do ye no’ believe me?”
“Och, aye. I believe ye. The garden is verra nice. Nicholas and I have strolled through it as well. But,” she paused dramatically. “It did seem like more was going on when ye sat upon the bench.”
“Ye saw us on the bench?” Clarissa’s stomach dropped. Nicholas must be furious. Would he take it out on Alexander? Work against him in the auction? Surely not. That would be much too childish.
“Ye looked cozy.”
Clarissa buried her face in her hands. “Oh no,” she said through her palms.
Gwen joined her on the settee and clasped her hands. “Och, dinna fash. I believe Nicholas is seeing that ye two have genuine feelings for each other. Ye only need to give him time,” she dropped her voice. “If I am being honest, I think he is having a hard time grasping the reality that his younger siblings are of marrying age. He doesna want to let ye go. Ye being the first just makes it that much harder.”
Relief flooded through her at Gwen’s words. Was Nicholas coming to terms with whatever was happening between her and Alexander? Could that even be possible? She could only hope. She wished her brother would see Alexander as she saw him. Strong, loyal, trustworthy. He had always seen him as a brother, and they had supported one another in the war. Now, her brother needed to support him at home.
Voices sounded below and Clarissa and Gwen shared a glance before jumping out of their seats and rushing downstairs.
Without thinking, Clarissa rushed to Alexander and clutched his hand in hers. “How did it go? Did ye get your sheep?”
Alexander looked at her, and then down at their entwined fingers, before meeting her gaze once again. Then his eyes shifted behind her and when she followed his gaze, her brother stood there, arms crossed, brows furrowed.
She snatched her hand from his, backing away. “I am sorry,” she apologized. “I—”
