Chapter Thirteen
Alexander wanted toreach out and close Clarissa’s hand in his but the look on Nicholas’s face gave him pause and instead, he cleared his throat and stepped back himself.
Not wanting to embarrass her, he gave her a warm smile, hoping that she could see that he appreciated her gesture.
“I did indeed have the winning bid for my flock.”
Clarissa clapped her hands together, a little bounce to her step. “That is great.” Her gaze met his and she cocked her head to the side. “Why are you no’ celebrating? This, above all else, is surely a cause for celebration. Is it no’?”
He grimaced. Did he want to tell her the whole story? Nay, he didn’t. And he wouldn’t. Not now. Mayhap not ever.
“’Tis naught for ye to fash over. I just need to meet with Kitt to pay my bid in person. But,” he rubbed his palms together. “Right now I am famished. Anyone else?”
Confusion fluttered across her delicate features, darkening her eyes.
He tried to ignore the look, but it was so hard.
“Let me check in with Cook and see what she has available on short notice, and we can dine. Everyone, please gather in the dining room. I will join ye shortly.”
He excused himself to find Cook, but Gunn stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Are ye all right, brother?”
That was a loaded question. One he didn’t really have an answer for. He was thrilled he rightfully won the bidding. Though he was pissed that the stranger in the auction forced the bids so high. On purpose, Alexander kenned. If he were a betting man, he would bet Millwool that the man was sent at the request of Kitt to drive up the price. It was common knowledge that without his sheep he had no income coming in other than his annual stipend, but that was far from being paid for the upcoming year and this year’s payment had already been spent.
Or lost, rather, thanks to Christopher.
Alexander barked out a maniacal laugh. “Och, aye. Splendid. Thank ye for asking.”
Gunn eyed him warily. “Ye dinna seem so.”
“Really? Really? I have just lost thousands, I repeat, thousands to regain a flock of sheep that were rightfully mine to begin with.”
Gunn clucked his tongue. “There was definitely something amiss about the bidding.”
“Aye, I deduced that already. Somehow that man at the auction and Kitt were colluding. I dinna ken what his plan is, but I will get to the bottom of it. And that bastard will pay. Way more than the thousands I now owe him.” He spun and stomped off towards the kitchen. “Bloody hell,” he cursed to no one in particular.
As he neared the kitchen, he slowed his steps. He didn’t want to scare off Cook by barging in there and demanding food. While the woman was more than accommodating, he would get a much better meal if he asked nicely.
The smell of baking bread and roasting venison assaulted his senses the closer he got. The smell was divine, and his stomach rumbled in want.
Cook was hunched over a table, mortar in hand as she pulverized some spices into a scrumptious seasoning, he wassure. She looked up as he entered and set the pestle down and wiped her hands on her apron.
“Your Grace, what can I get ye?” Her round face was red and her hair, just starting to gray, peaked out of the mobcap she wore. But nonetheless, she gave him a warm smile.
“I ken ye are otherwise occupied, but would ye mind putting something together for everyone in the dining room? Do ye have anything ready? Finger sandwiches would be fine.”
“I shall see what I have and get it to ye soon.” She shooed him out of the kitchen. “Now, leave me alone and go entertain your guests.”
“Thank ye. Ye are a gem.”
“That is what they say. Dinna forget or ye may lose me to another estate,” she jested.
“Ne’er. I willna let ye go.” He laughed but turned to her once again. “Truly, Cook. Thank ye.”
She waved her hands at him in a sweeping motion. “Go now, Your Grace, before ye make me blush.”
In a better mood than he had been just a few minutes before, he thought of Clarissa as he went to meet everyone in the dining room. The way she had run up to him when he walked in the door, concern creasing her forehead, hit him like a gut punch. But when she reached out and clasped his hand? That was the best feeling. It was as if he had just returned home to his loving bride, and she could not wait to see him come back.
He stopped short, closing his eyes, and groaned. Bride. Love. What the hell was he thinking? He was closer to restoring his livelihood, but he had not yet. And Nicholas still appeared to be adamant that he leave Clarissa alone. Even after the talk they had had earlier.
