Chapter Four
Alexander didn’t wantto 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.
