If not for Malcolm’s innocent chatter, breakfast the following morning would have been a stiff and uncomfortable affair. Not because of any awkwardness between Cat and Andrew, but because he and Alec Munro had begun glaring at each other with ill-concealed animosity from the moment they entered the room within seconds of each other.
Deliberately so?
And at whose instigation?
Cat was inclined to believe it was Alec Munro’s, after the warmth of Andrew’s gaze, as he lifted her hand to his lips in greeting, told her that he did not regret a moment of their time together last night and it was his intention to touch her again now no matter if there were a hundred Alec Munros in the room.
In contrast to Andrew’s warmth, Alec gave her a curt nod and a disapproving scowl. Although she had to admit, the latter was a little hard to discern from his normally dour expression.
Cat was grateful for Malcolm’s excited chatter regarding their journey to Inverness tomorrow, after she had been rendered speechless by Andrew’s arrival in the family dining room.
He was wearing Hugh’s best kilt and the short formal black jacket worn over a black waistcoat and white shirt with a white neckcloth. There was a length of the McGregor dull red-and-green plaid thrown over one of Andrew’s broad shoulders and attached to his jacket with the McGregor pin. The knee length of the kilt allowed several inches of Andrew’s bare legs to be seen above the thick knee-high socks and formal brogue shoes.
He looked magnificent. Better even than Hugh had in the same clothes, Cat acknowledged somewhat disloyally.
Far from appearing uncomfortable or self-conscious in the attire, Andrew wore the Scottish clothing with the same haughty bearing as he did his own perfectly tailored London clothing.
He had also stolen Cat’s breath away.
She had collected the outfit together in Hugh’s bedchamber earlier this morning before asking a tight-lipped Mrs. Munro to deliver the clothing to Andrew’s bedchamber. The housekeeper’s disapproval had been tangible, leading Cat to wonder if Andrew was correct that she had sent word to Alec Munro of Andrew’s arrival here.
She sincerely hoped not, because there had been enough upheaval in Malcolm’s young life already without Cat having to replace the housekeeper who had been here since shortly after he was born.
Far from Andrew having only a choice of porridge for his breakfast, as she had teased he would, there were venison sausages, haggis, potato scones, and eggs. There were also thick wedges of freshly baked bread and the creamy butter made with the milk from their dairy cows to spread upon it.
They were all going to need a hearty breakfast to get through the long day of people arriving and celebrating their new laird.
“Are you sure it’s safe for you all to travel to Inverness when your uncle was so recently attacked there?”
Cat had been so lost in thoughts of Andrew; it took her several seconds to gather herself enough to answer Alec’s harshly voiced question. “I am sure that as Uncle Simon is the Sheriff Principal of the Highlands, he will have dealt with the culprits by now.”
Andrew’s eyes narrowed. “Your great-uncle is the law in the Highlands?”
“He is, yes,” Cat confirmed proudly.
Alec gave a snort. “No doubt his attackers were people bearing a grudge, having previously been sent to prison by him, or they are relatives of men he has sentenced to hang.”
Cat shot him a reproving frown. “I do not believe this to be suitable conversation for the breakfast table.” She gave a pointed glance in Malcolm’s direction, knowing of old that her nephew, whilst he might not comment on a subject at the time, listened to all adult conversations. She did not relish having a conversation with him about men being hanged and why.
Andrew did as Malcolm had asked and stood behind and to one side of him throughout the long day of greeting his tenants and other members of the McGregor clan who had traveled here to honor the new laird.
Andrew felt an emotional warmth and belonging building inside his chest after several people had asked about him and Malcolm had answered them by introducing him with the proud statement Andrew was his uncle from England and his mother’s brother.
The Munro clan from the adjoining farm and estate appeared to be a dour lot, the mother as morose as her son, Alec, along with several of his brothers and sisters. Only the father, Alastair Munro, had shown any politeness toward the visitor from London. He also seemed unaware of all the glowering taking place around him. Although the copious amount of whisky the man had drunk since his arrival indicated Munro the elder was not as immune to his family’s taciturn natures as he appeared to be.
Andrew could only hope, for Cat’s sake, that Ewan had taken after his father rather than the rest of the miserable-looking Munro family.
“Ewan looked very like his father. He had his evenness of temperament too.”
Andrew turned to where Cat stood a step back on the other side of Malcolm, her eyes alight with humor as she bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.
“Your mask of indifference slipped for a few moments and allowed me to read some of your thoughts,” she added teasingly.
He gave a shake of his head. “I cannot believe you were ever married into such a family.” He spoke as softly as she did so as not to be overheard as Malcolm continued to officially greet the long line of guests still waiting to pay their homage to him.
She chuckled. “I married Ewan, not the family.”
“Thanks be to God.” He gave a shrug when Cat’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the sentiment. “I am not an overly religious man. I simply heard one of the older ladies present say the phrase earlier to her friend after one of them had dropped a handkerchief and the two of them attempted to look up my kilt whilst retrieving it.”
Cat stared at him for several long seconds before bursting into unrestrained peals of laughter. “That will have been Gracey and Moira McGregor,” she easily guessed, those two ladies both aged in their eighties and not giving a care about discretion. “I trust ye didna take too literally the remark that a Scotsman disna wear anything under his kilt!” she murmured once she was able.
Andrew met her gaze. “When in Scotland…”
Cat almost choked on her own tongue and her cheeks heated as she was instantly able to imagine that long and engorged cock, which she had touched through his pantaloons the previous night, now being completely bare beneath the knee-length kilt. “I am sure the leddies suffered no disappointment at the sight,” she finally managed to choke.
Andrew took a step closer to her. “Did you know that your accent deepens when you are aroused either to anger or passion?”
She swallowed. “I do now, yes.”
He ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “Could I persuade you into taking a short break from the festivities with me so that I might ascertain which of those emotions you are currently feeling?” he encouraged gruffly.
Cat’s breathing suddenly felt restricted beneath the bodice of her formal gown made in the McGregor tartan.
She had felt languid and lazy when she woke up this morning, reluctant to move. Only to sit up abruptly when she remembered the reason she was feeling that way.
Andrew had made love to her the previous night.
He had not only made love to her, but he’d spanked her before bringing her to climax after climax with his hands, lips, and tongue.
Cat’s limbs ached in a good way this morning, her bottom cheeks sore and sensitive. A sensitivity she could still feel each time her drawers chafed against that tender flesh.
If she had thought of putting any distance between the two of them this morning, the heat of Andrew’s gaze as it fixated on her slightly swollen lips had been enough to dispel any such foolish notions.
“We probably shouldna both leave Malcolm at the same time.” Cat couldn’t quite bring her gaze up to meet Andrew’s.
“True.” Andrew accepted without rancor. “But that’s no reason why you shouldn’t leave us long enough to apply some salve to your sore bottom prior to me administering another spanking later tonight,” he added throatily. “I have noticed you becoming more and more uncomfortable as the day proceeds. I could come with you, if you think you might require assistance with the matter?”
Cat stared at him, mouth agape and too shocked to reply.
Admittedly, she believed Andrew had only spoken loudly enough for her to be able to hear him, but she still felt compelled to glance around them to see if anyone else had overheard his comment.
Because they knew so many people would be coming to the house throughout the day and the weather was mild, Dougal McGregor had organized the placing of the chair Malcolm would sit in for the oathtaking outside beneath the huge oak tree at the front of the house.
Mrs. Murray also had the Factor set out long bench tables where she’d had the maids place all the food and drink. This was where most of their guests had congregated to eat, drink, and chatter loudly after their oathtaking to Malcolm.
Music, provided spontaneously by the pipers and fiddlers of the clan, added to the cacophony of noise.
No one, it seemed, was paying Cat or Andrew any special attention.
Except…
Cat had just spotted Fiona Munro, her erstwhile mother-in-law, standing at the corner of the house watching her with narrowed dark eyes as she engaged in what looked like a very serious conversation with the housekeeper, Esme Munro. The rest of the Munro family were mixing with and talking to other guests. She couldn’t see Alastair, Lord bless him, but he was probably passed out under a table somewhere after imbibing too much whisky.
“Best not to,” she answered Andrew distractedly and then leaned forward to tell Malcolm she needed to walk around for a bit.
Andrew watched Cat as she paused in conversation with group after group of the McGregor tenants and clan when they stopped her as she made her way toward the house.
Before coming to Scotland, Andrew had made the mistake of thinking it was a wild and lawless country with very little in the way of comfort or social niceties to recommend it.
Catriona McGregor, with her graciousness and elegance of appearance and her bright and fiery personality, had very firmly contradicted what he now admitted to have been an uneducated opinion.
This manor house was large and comfortably furnished. The food provided by Mrs. Murray far surpassed many dinners Andrew had attended in London.
But at the heart of all of it was Cat.
She was as beautiful as she was gracious, with a passionate nature Andrew had discovered was more than a match for his own. He had found it difficult to take his eyes off her for even a moment today.
“She’s nae for the likes of ye.”
Andrew drew in a deep and controlling breath as he easily recognized the harsh and irritating voice of Alec Munro. Strange that Cat’s accent was so light and lyrical when this man’s had all the aggression of a dog snapping and snarling.
He turned to face the younger man. “I believe that will be for myself and Cat to decide.” He glanced across to where he could now see Cat had slipped quietly inside the house and felt an aching in his chest to join her. “Indeed, I am very much looking forward to our visit to Inverness together tomorrow.”
Annoyance darkened Munro’s surly features. “Perhaps ye should consider that Catriona still has to live here after ye’ve taken yersel’ back to London.”
Andrew’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly what do you mean by that remark?” It had sounded like a threat to him.
Munro shrugged. “I have already told ye how we feel about loose women in the Highlands.”
Andrew’s temper blazed. “Listen to me, you pompous little upstart—” He broke off to draw in several deep and controlling breaths. He had always been slow to anger, believing that any insult was better dealt with through cold logic and a clear head.
Apparently, neither of those things applied when it came to Alec Munro daring to insult Cat in his presence.
Andrew pulled the Scotsman away from where they could be overheard. “If you ever make a remark like that again about Cat in my presence, then you can consider yourself challenged and may choose either sword or pistol. Do I make myself clear?”
The other man looked Andrew up and down. “Ye’re not only attempting to seduce Catriona with yer sophisticated London ways, but also trying to look like ye belong here today by wearing her dead brother’s clothes,” he sneered. “I thought Catriona had more sense than to be flattered by the attentions of a sleekit basturd like yersel’, but it’s obvious to me now that I thought too highly of her altogether.”
“I am assuming being called a sleekit basturd isn’t flattering,” Andrew bit out derisively, taking no offense for himself. No doubt he had been called far worse than what sounded as if it might translate to sly bastard. “As for my belonging here…” he scoffed. “As Malcolm’s uncle, I have far more right to be at Cat’s side in support of both her and Malcolm than her ex-brother-in-law.”
The other man’s complexion became mottled with anger. “I’m only saying—”
“Far too much, as far as I am concerned,” Andrew snapped. “Now I suggest you take yourself as far away from me as is possible. Before I give in to the physical need I feel to ensure you know your place from now on. Which, if you did not know it, is as far away from Cat and Malcolm as can be.”
Munro’s nostrils flared. “I should have a care on yer journey back to London, Your Grace. The Highlands can be a dangerous place for those travelers that dinna appreciate how treacherous the area can be.”
There was no mistaking Munro’s threat this time for anything other than what it was. Or the ease with which he had made it.
Leading Andrew to question whether the other man might have made or carried out a similar threat before today.
To his surprise and fury, Andrew was given an answer to that question not ten minutes later.
And from a source he had not been expecting.
Cat breathed a sigh of relief once she had applied a salve to her throbbing bottom cheeks. The lotion lessened the sting.
Before, as Andrew had warned, he administered another spanking later this evening.
Something which filled Cat with anticipation rather than dread.
She had never thought of herself as a particularly sensual woman, but these past twenty-four hours in Andrew’s company had shown her that she responded to everything about him. How he looked. How he spoke to her. How he touched her. How he made love to her.
She stepped over to the window of her bedchamber so that she might look down at all the guests milling about. She couldn’t see Andrew, but she was pleased to observe there seemed to be a lull in new arrivals and Mrs. Murray had now seated Malcolm at one of the tables so that he could eat some of the food she had so lovingly prepared for the occasion.
It had touched Cat immensely how protective of Malcolm the household staff had become after Hugh and Elena died, from the cook and maids in the house to Dougal McGregor and the men working on the estate. They had all, without exception, formed a protective phalanx about Malcolm.
Which was the reason Cat found it doubly disturbing for Andrew to suggest the possibility that Esme Munro might not be as loyal to the McGregor family as had previously been supposed.
Seeing the other woman in such intense conversation with Fiona Munro earlier had added to those feelings of disquiet.
Cat frowned as she saw Fiona crossing the yard to where Alec stood in conversation with his father. A conversation which would no doubt include the unwelcome advice of the son to the father regarding his drinking too much.
“Bottom soothed?”
She spun round to see Andrew entering her bedchamber and then closing and locking the door behind him. He looked no less resplendent than he had at the start of the day in the formal jacket and kilt, his presence once again robbing Cat of breath.
He crossed the room with the stealth of a hunter approaching its prey. “Perhaps I should check for myself?” he prompted as he came to a halt only inches in front of her.
Cat grasped his arm and attempted to pull him away from the window. “We will be seen together if anyone should glance up here,” she explained when Andrew refused to move.
His mouth twisted as he continued to remain stubbornly in place. “I am not feeling particularly concerned about other people’s opinion of me after having had yet another unpleasant conversation with your ex-brother-in-law.”
Cat stilled. “What did Alec say this time?”
Andrew’s jaw tightened. “Nothing which need concern you just now.” He appeared to purposefully ease some of the tension from his shoulders before eyeing her warmly. “Now, I really do believe your bottom needs to be looked at. Shall I sit on the bed with you over my thighs or—and I really would prefer this choice—can I drag the bedroom chair over to the window and inspect your bare bottom there? Having, of course, already observed that the windowsill is high enough that no one looking up here would be able to see you draped bare-arsed across my thighs.”
That wild fluttering had once again started in Cat’s chest and the heat to gather between her thighs.
Andrew stepped closer. “Bed or chair…?” he invited huskily.
She lifted her chin. “And if I say neither?”
His mouth quirked. “Then I shall make the decision for you.”
Cat had no explanation as to why she found this man’s domineering attitude so arousing.
She only knew that she did.
“Bed or chair, little Cat?”