Andrew shook his head. “He made it clear he had a prior claim.”
She gasped. “Of me?”
“He is not your lover?”
“Nor has he ever been!” she stated firmly.
Andrew gave a satisfied nod. “Then know that I will only ever tell you the truth, little Cat, and a few minutes ago, Munro stated quite plainly that you will become his wife as soon as your year of mourning his brother is over.”
“I— But— No!” She pulled out of his grasp. “I have never given Alec so much as a word of encouragement for him to have that belief.” She gave a dazed shake of her head.
Andrew’s expression softened. “I believe you. But—” He stilled, both of them turning as a knock sounded on the closed bedchamber door. “Alec Munro come to say good night, no doubt, and to warn you against the wicked attentions of the Duke of Essex,” Andrew drawled softly when she remained frozen in place.
A part of Cat didn’t want to open the door and have Andrew’s assumption confirmed.
“Open the door,” Andrew encouraged softly. “Unless you are too afraid to have my speculations confirmed?”
How well this man knew her after only a few hours’ acquaintance!
Far better than Alec did, if what Andrew had told her was true. But no matter what Alec might believe, she had no intention of ever becoming his wife.
She had been devastated when Ewan was killed, and shocked and deeply saddened when Hugh and Elena were taken from her so suddenly two months ago, but she believed she had found a measure of contentment since in caring for Malcolm.
A contentment which now felt threatened by any misapprehension Alec Munro might have in regard to making her his wife.
“You will remain perfectly safe, little Cat. I am here to ensure you do so,” Andrew said softly.
Cat frowned at the implication Alec might try to force his way into her bedchamber. Of course, he would not. It was ludicrous to even think that he might—
“Catriona!” A hard rap of knuckles on the wood of the bedchamber door accompanied Alec’s strident tone.
She shot Andrew a frowning glance, one that pleaded for his silence, before she crossed the room. She opened the door only as far as necessary so that she wasn’t fully revealed as wearing only her nightclothes, or to allow Andrew to be seen in her bedchamber.
Alec’s expression brightened upon seeing her. “I wondered if I could come in so that we might talk for a minute or so?”
Cat frowned. “It’s very late.”
His usual scowl returned. “I thought it best to talk to you in private before we all breakfast together in the morning.”
“Regarding what?”
“The Duke of Essex.”
Her brows rose. “What about him?”
“I could talk more freely if I came inside.”
“It is far too late and completely inappropriate for you to do so,” Cat stated firmly, her grip tightening on the half-open door, just in case he should try to force his way inside. “Now, what is it you wish to say to me about Elena’s brother?” She deliberately mentioned the fact that Andrew had as much of a claim to a family connection as Alec did.
Alec scowled. “I dinna trust him.”
“With what?”
“With you.”
“Me?” Cat echoed hollowly.
“I’ve seen his like before in Edinburgh.” Alec’s eyes were hard. “Titled gentlemen who believe they can take who and what they want with little or no consequences.”
“I believe Andrew’s purpose for being here is to meet his nephew,” she defended. “Elena also told me that he is known as being one of the wealthiest gentlemen in England,” she added pointedly.
His jaw clenched. “A nephew he had no time for before now. Nor did I say the man was after the McGregor money.”
“Then what?”
Alec’s gaze warmed. “Ye’re a beautiful woman, Catriona. There’s also no one here from his London set to see what he gets up to while he’s away from Society.”
Alec did have a point. Oh, not his reference to the way Cat looked, but being so far away from London did give Andrew license to behave exactly as he wished and for polite Society to know nothing about it.
“His manner was altogether far too familiar with ye earlier tonight,” Alec continued doggedly. “As ye were far too familiar calling him by his first name just now,” he added in rebuke.
Cat straightened her spine, having heard quite enough from this pompous young man for one night. “I’ll wish ye good night, Alec Munro. We’ll not be talking about this again in the morning.” She closed and locked the door before he could say anything further to anger her.
Chapter Eight
“Cat?” Andrew prompted.
She turned slowly from where she had remained facing the closed door. She focused on him with effort. “I have never known Alec to behave in such a—a—”
“A proprietary manner?” Andrew put forward softly.
“Yes.”
“Is he in the habit of paying you calls when it is too late at night to be politely decent for him to do so?”
“No.” Cat’s head was still buzzing with all the unlikely events of the day.
“Strange that he should do so tonight, then, when I am newly arrived in the area, and Malcolm’s bedtime means the two of us were alone here this evening…”
Cat looked at him searchingly. “You think Alec’s arrival here tonight was deliberate?”
He nodded. “I do, yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I am here, and he wished to see for himself who is currently sharing the home of the woman he intends to make his wife.”
She gave a firm shake of her head. “I am not marrying Alec Munro. Nor is there any way in which he could have known of your presence here.”
“You said your housekeeper is a Munro? That she was married to a cousin, twice removed, of Alec Munro?”
Cat’s mouth became dry as Andrew’s comments bombarded her with so many impossibilities, one on top of another, it seemed too incredible any of them might be true.
It seemed impossible that Mrs. Munro, who had been housekeeper here since her husband died four years ago, might actually be assisting Alec in
