tell me aboot it.â
âCat it is, then. Is there anything else ye might have need of while yeâre staying here, Cat?â
She snorted. âAye. Some Shakespeare and smoked pork would be dandy. A whetting stone and a silver spoon fer my porridge. But yeâre nae to return, so I reckon Iâll do without.â
He made a mental note of her requests. Clearly she thought him a poor cotter, more than likely a poacher, and for both their sakes it might be wise not to correct her misapprehension. Not yet, anyway.
Cat. That was something, anyway. Heâd heard of a cat-and-mouse game. This one would evidently be a game of cat and bear. Because whatever she thought she wanted, he wasnât about to leave her be.
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Chapter Three
âBear.â
Stifling a curse, Munro hefted the sack he carried from one hand to the other and paused on the main stairway landing to let Ranulf catch up to him. âDid ye see itâs raining again?â he asked, before the marquis could begin a topic of conversation. âIf this keeps up, I fear weâre in for the devil of a winter. Iâm off to see Lachlan and Winnie. Do ye reckon Lach still kens how to hunt after being domestified fer a year?â
Ranulf lifted an eyebrow. âFirstly, I dunnae think âdomestifiedâ is a word. Secondly, I reckon Lachâll manage. Yeâve hunted with him before now. I doubt today will find him nae knowing which end of a gun is the dangerous one.â
âAye. I reckon yeâve the right of it. Iâm off, then.â
âYe ken we have a gamekeeper, brà thair. Ye dunnae need to keep the house in meat fer the winter all on yer own.â
Munro forced a laugh and continued his descent. âThe house has more mouths than it used to, these days. I reckon Earcharn could use some help.â In the foyer he shrugged into his heavy sealskin coat and donned a wide-brimmed hat. âAside from that, Iâm nae a domestifiedâdomesticatedâlad. I cannae sit aboot the house smiling and cooing over my bride and my wee bairn, because I have nae such things keeping me here.â Cooper, Glengaskâs butler, pulled open the front door for him, and he stepped out into the wind-driven rain. âIâll spend my days out of doors while I can, before the snow comes to stay fer the winter, if ye dunnae mind.â
The footsteps trailing him stopped in the doorway. Inwardly wincing, Munro squared his shoulders and continued forward. No, he wasnât clever-tongued like Arran. In fact, he generally made a point of speaking his mind; it made for less confusion later. And no, he wasnât as half-witted as his family generally assumed, but the impression made things easier on all of them. Even so, if heâd insulted Ranulf this time, it hadnât been intentional.
âBear.â
He paused, but didnât turn around. âAye?â
âTake Fergus with ye.â
Relief curved his lips. âThank ye,â he said, continuing up the slope toward the stable. He whistled, and a moment later the larger of Ranulfâs two deerhounds padded up beside him. âI hope ye behave yerself today, lad. Nae frightening the Cat.â Though truthfully, she hadnât looked all that frightened.
The dog wumphed, hopefully in agreement. Running across Ranulf and concocting that damned story about hunting had changed his plans; now that heâd invented a hunting excursion with his brother-in-law, Lord Gray, he would have to follow through with it. Ranulf had an unnerving tendency to detect falsehoods and pursue them until he had the truth. He could stand a word or two with his closest friend, anyway. It had been a while since theyâd discussed anything but how old a bairn had to be before he could learn to ride a horse.
While it likely didnât matter that a lass had taken up residence at Haldane, Munro knew Ranulf wouldnât like the idea of a strangerâespecially
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