As was no doubt usually the case.
Well, that would not be the case when it came to her! “It has been my experience, Your Grace, that wine can as easily be sour from being kept for too long without drinking as it can be matured to perfection.” Her challenging gaze met his.
Humor glittered in those mocking green eyes. “Then I can only conclude that the wine you have partaken of thus far has been of an inferior quality.”
Cat drew in a sharp breath, barely able to believe Andrew had spoken so provocatively. Because there was no mistaking that this conversation was not about wine at all, but physical experience and pleasure. That being the case, the only “wine” Cat had partaken of thus far was the lovemaking of her husband, Ewan.
Admittedly, they had been very young when they married, both aged one and twenty, and neither of them experienced. But they had loved each other, and their physical relationship, despite only lasting for a week, had been more than satisfying.
But it was not exciting in the same way Andrew’s kisses earlier had promised his lovemaking would be, a voice taunted inside her head.
She felt a sharp pain in her chest from merely having such traitorous thoughts. She had known and loved Ewan all her life, whereas she had known Andrew Belgrade for only a single day.
Her chin rose. “I have no liking for mature or expensive wines, Your Grace. Now, if you will excuse me, I will see you both at breakfast in the morning.” She was tired of hinting it was time they all retired to bed for the night. If these two men wished to continue to verbally challenge each other after she had gone to bed, then that was what they must do. She did not intend being a part of it.
“No doubt Mrs. Munro will be able to provide another bowl of parridge for your other unexpected guest,” Andrew bit out.
Her eyes flashed at the challenge in his tone. “No doubt she will.” She nodded to both men before leaving the room, her head held high.
Chapter Seven
“Ye would do weel to stay away from Catriona,” Alec Munro warned harshly.
Andrew looked down his nose at the younger man. “And why is that?”
“You don’t belong here,” Munro scorned. “Nor will you be allowed to trifle with Catriona’s affections whilst you are.”
“No?” Andrew raised his brows.
Munro’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his face now a mottled shade of red. “As I am heir to my father’s land, it is intended that Catriona will become my wife as soon as her year of mourning my brother is at an end.”
“Is she aware of that?” Andrew might have only known Catriona for a day, but he believed she would have informed him if she was betrothed to marry another man. “And are you not in the same mourning for your brother? A death which, by rights, should have been your own,” he added coolly.
“What do you mean?” Munro blustered.
“You are the second son, are you not? Meaning the role of soldier traditionally belonged to you rather than your brother, the heir?”
Munro was now so red in the face with temper, he looked as if he might explode from it. “Ewan chose to join the army.”
“Perhaps that was because his younger brother was too cowardly to do so. I should not advise it,” he said mildly as the other man took a threatening step toward him. “I also am a trained soldier.”
“I’m nay scairt of ye.” Munro’s accent deepened along with his anger.
Andrew shrugged. “Then might I suggest that you at least learn caution where I am concerned. Especially if you are thinking of making your brother’s widow your own wife as soon as it is decent to do so. Because from what I have observed, Cat is unaware of your intentions toward her.”
“She’s well acquented with the way of things in the Highlands,” the other man spat.
“Is she?” Andrew had seen no guilt, only embarrassment, in Cat’s demeanor earlier when the housekeeper interrupted the two of them kissing. He felt sure that if Cat had been aware of the expectations of this man, she would not have allowed the kiss to happen.
“Our clans have always been connected, as they were by Ewan’s marriage to Catriona. They will be so again once Catriona and I are marrit,” Munro stated determinedly.
“Have you not heard the saying ‘there’s many a slip twixt cup and lip’?” Andrew drawled.
The younger man glowered at him. “Catriona is a lady and not to be treated like one of those women with loose morals living in London and with whom you are no doubt well acquented.”
Andrew’s eyes narrowed. “I trust you are not including my sister in that derogatory description?”
Munro shrugged. “Elena was pretty enough, but I canna say as I ever understood why McGregor marrit a woman who wasna Scottish and didna understand our ways.”
Words which did not deny he had thought of Elena, having eloped with Hugh McGregor, as being a “loose woman.” Andrew’s dislike for the other man was increasing with each insulting word Munro spoke. “Then it is as well Hugh no more needed your approval for his actions than I do.”
It had never occurred to him that Elena, lovely and vivacious, might not have been unanimously welcomed into the Highlands as the wife of the McGregor.
A lot of things had not occurred to him at that time. How much he had come to miss his sister being but one of them. He certainly had no intention of standing here any longer listening to Munro insult her.
“If you will excuse me…” His tone implied he did not give a damn whether the other man
