He gave the other man a terse nod. “Munro.”
“Essex,” the Scotsman returned as abruptly.
The other man’s unwelcoming attitude told Andrew exactly what he had wanted to know. Alec Munro felt a proprietary claim to Catriona, and he didn’t welcome anything or anyone who might pose a threat to whatever his intentions were toward her.
The question was, did Catriona return Munro’s feelings?
Andrew’s narrowed gaze leveled on her. Her cheeks were pale now rather than flushed. Her lips, still red and plump from their kisses, were slightly parted. Her gaze was wary as it met his.
Guiltily so, because her lover had arrived when she had been kissing another man?
Her throat moved as she swallowed, her gaze now silently pleading for his discretion.
In regard to their kisses?
Because Munro was the brother of her deceased husband or because she had taken the Scotsman as her lover since her husband’s death?
Andrew had been so sure when he left London a week ago that nothing and no one would ever succeed in piercing the barrier of his rigid self-control. But meeting Catriona and kissing her this evening had changed everything. Wanting her, intending to have her, had swept away any and all of his previous efforts to maintain control of his carnal nature.
Nor, as his narrowed gaze returned to the scowling Alec Munro, did he intend to step aside and allow this previous acquaintance to overrule his own desires for Catriona.
He deliberately schooled his features so that none of the churning of those emotions showed in the coolness of his expression. “Am I right in thinking that as I walked down the hallway, I heard the two of you discussing an attack on the ewes and their lambs by wild dogs?”
Munro looked irritated by his interest. “It’s nothing that hasna happened before.”
His brows rose. “A loss of livestock, and therefore the wealth of the McGregor clan, is surely something which can and should be avoided.”
Munro’s eyes narrowed. “Dougal McGregor and I will organize hunting and destroying the dogs.”
Andrew straightened to his intimidating height of several inches over six feet, a good four or so inches taller than the younger man. “I am here now and can assist Dougal McGregor.” He had noticed during his conversations since arriving in the Highlands that the Scots seemed to use the full name of the subject of their conversation.
In this case, possibly because there were many men named Dougal in the Highlands, but perhaps not as many named Dougal McGregor. Even if there were, he was sure the canny Scots would have thought of another way of differentiating between them.
Munro’s top lip turned up in a sneer as he took in the elegance of Andrew’s appearance against his own more serviceable attire worn for his riding here on horseback. “Ye would do weel to stay out of our business when ye obviously dinna intend to remain long in the Highlands.”
Andrew was really starting to dislike this young man, whether it should transpire Munro was Catriona’s lover or not.
“It’s very late, and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” Catriona put in brightly. “I suggest we all retire for the night and reconsider the problem of hunting down the wild dogs after the day of celebrations. Mrs. Munro will have prepared your usual bedchamber, Alec.” She smiled at her brother-in-law.
Rather than lessening the tension, as Catriona had no doubt intended to do, her reference to “your usual bedchamber, Alec” was enough to increase Andrew’s dislike of the younger man and whatever his relationship might be with Catriona.
Andrew stepped forward to stand so close beside Catriona that her shoulder brushed against the top of his arm. “I have no immediate plans to leave the Highlands, Mr. Munro. Most especially so if Cat is in need of my assistance.” He felt her start of surprise as he very deliberately called her by Malcolm’s pet name for her.
Munro scowled his displeasure at the familiarity. “As she hasna needed yer assistance for all these years, I seriously doubt she has need of it now either.”
“Nevertheless—”
“It really is very late,” Catriona stated firmly. “I am sure His Grace must be tired from his travels.” She gave Andrew a pointed stare that challenged him to disagree with her.
“His age will be against him right enough,” Munro scorned.
Andrew was more amused by this intended slight than offended. Luckily so for Munro; Andrew was known for being one of the best shots and swordsmen in England.
“There is a lot to be said for experience, would you not agree, Cat?” he drawled while his gaze remained on Munro in challenge for several long seconds. He turned to Catriona and watched with satisfaction as a telling blush slowly crept into her cheeks. “Especially when, like a fine wine, it has reached its peak of maturity and perfection.”
Cat was going to kill Andrew Belgrade the moment they were alone again!
Painfully.
Slowly.
She had watched and listened in total disbelief as, from the first, Andrew and Alec had faced each other like two gladiators in an arena.
With her as somehow being the ultimate prize.
As far as Alec was concerned, she had never, by word or deed, encouraged him to think of her as anything other than his brother’s widow.
The same could not now be said of Andrew, but she still would not have expected him to behave so…so openly possessive toward her in front of another person.
Allowing him to kiss her at all had been a mistake. Although she doubted allow was a word many people would use in connection to the arrogantly forceful Andrew Belgrade.
She had been surprised when he followed her into the parlor rather than taking the opportunity to go up to his bedchamber. Having him then proceed to challenge Alec’s right to offer to help her hunt the wild dogs that had killed their sheep had been even more unexpected.
Except the offer had seemed to be more than that…
It was as if the two men were
