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
