Then he mounted Thunder and left, whistling all the way back to Kilkairn Castle.
Chapter 11
A disappointment in love is one of the hardest things for a woman to overcome. One would like to blame the entire male gender from youngest to oldest, for it always seems that, as a group, they have a peculiarly uniform method of failing. As if at some point, they held a meeting and simply voted to underperform en masse.
Countess of Bradford to her favorite sister, Mrs. Compton, while taking the waters in Bath
Tilton held out Devon’s riding coat. “Your coat, sir.”
Devon shrugged into it. “Thank you, Tilton. Did you call to have my horse saddled?”
“Yes, sir.” The valet sniffed. “Again.”
Devon grinned. “I am sorry if you find my habits so tedious.”
“Indeed I do, sir. But I try not to fall asleep whilst performing my duties. I consider it a matter of professional pride.”
Devon grinned and began to answer when his gaze fell on something small and shiny on the floor. He retrieved the object. “My sapphire cravat pin. I wonder how it got on the floor?”
Tilton frowned, all levity gone. “I don’t know, sir. I’ve kept all of your pins in—” He picked up the jewelry box from the dressing table and flipped it open. He began sorting through the pins and fobs inside, his brow lowered.
“What is it?” Devon said.
Tilton paused, looked one more time, then closed the box. “The talisman ring, sir, it’s gone.”
“Gone?” Devon stared at the box. Surely the ring wasn’t—hadn’t been—“Are you certain? Perhaps it’s on the floor like the cravat pin.”
Tilton shook his head. “There is nothing else on the floor.”
“Then perhaps it is behind the dresser.” Devon began to search, his heart sick. Bloody hell, his brothers would kill him. And he’d let them, too. If he had lost the talisman ring, he deserved a beating and worse.
“Where in the hell is it?” he asked no one in particular when a thorough search turned up nothing.
“I don’t know, sir. Someone had to have come in and stolen it.”
Yes, but—who? Who would bother with such a theft, leaving the assortment of other, more valuable jewels? Devon raked a hand through his hair, wondering what in the hell he was supposed to do now.
As much as he disliked having the ring in his possession, it had been Mother’s favorite. The entire family cherished the thing because of that, in spite of the horrid curse it supposedly carried.
He sat on the edge of the bed and yanked on his riding boots, consumed with the need to do something. He’d speak to Malcolm, have him question the household staff. It had to be one of the servants. Who else could benefit from the thing? “I’ll speak to Lord Strathmore. Perhaps he has an idea of where we might look.”
“Hmph. Well, the first place they should look is inside the pockets of that lazy upstairs maid. I’ve seen her sleeping under the steps on a number of occasions, reeking of gin.”
“I’ll mention that to Malcolm,” Devon said. He grabbed his riding gloves and let himself from the room. He had just reached the bottom step when he caught sight of Fiona coming out of the front room. She was walking quickly, her head down, her hands clasped before her. While he watched, she then spun on her heels and turned back the other way. She was pacing, he realized, marching back and forth, her agitation clear.
“Lady Strathmore?” Devon said, pushing aside his own anxiety.
She came to an abrupt halt, swinging around to face him. “Y-yes, Mr. St. John?”
“I seem to have mislaid something. A ring. It was in my room and now it has disappeared.”
“Oh dear. Do you think one of the servants stole it?”
“I am casting no blame. But do you think you might make some inquiries for me? It is the talisman ring, and my family would be loath to lose it.”
“The talisman—Oh dear! Of course I’ll make inquiries.”
Devon could only hope she was more thorough in her inquiries than she was in overseeing the housekeeping.
She suddenly seemed to notice his clothing. “Are you going riding? Again?”
He hesitated, not quite sure why. “I am meeting Miss Macdonald, and we are going to visit the North Wood. Malcolm says it is quite magnificent.”
Fiona’s eyes flashed. “Malcolm? Has he been giving you suggestions for your rides?”
“Why, yes. I don’t know the area, and he has been most kind in determining which trails would be best.”
Her lips tightened. “He has been doing that, has he? And there is Kat, ready to escort you. How convenient.”
Devon raised his brows. “Miss Katherine has taken great pains to assure me it is not at all convenient. She’s quite busy, and I gathered that she wasn’t very excited about becoming a guide.”
“Oh. Well, if that is so, then perhaps you should take Murien instead. I’m certain she’d enjoy the exercise. If you’d like, I could return to the sitting room and—” She turned as she spoke, but Devon caught her arm.
“That’s not necessary, I assure you.” He hesitated, feeling the need to offer something more. “Besides, I will see Miss Spalding at dinner.”
Fiona’s face cleared as if by magic. “Excellent! That will give you a much better chance to talk than riding about on horses.”
It would be much better chaperoned, too. Lately Murien’s attempts to capture Devon’s attention had seemed more determined than he liked. Still, he could afford to spend an hour across the dinner table from her, and if she was polite, he might even take her to the garden, providing there was a chaperone in the vicinity. If there wasn’t, then Miss Murien was going to find herself alone among the roses.
He bowed now to Fiona. “I hate to leave so quickly, but Miss Katherine will be waiting.”
“Oh. Yes, well—” Fiona took a deep breath as if to gird herself. “By the way, I meant to mention it to you, but I quite forgot. I…well, Malcolm and I thought to have a small gathering in your honor. I sent out the invitations yesterday. I would have told you sooner, but you have not been around much.”
Devon almost winced at the gentle reproof in her voice. “I sincerely hope you haven’t gone to any trouble. I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying and—”
“It is planned for Wednesday next.”
Four days after he’d planned to leave. He really needed to make the trip to Edinburgh but…He supposed he could stay a few more days. It would give him a little more time with Kat. “Very well. I look forward to it.”
An uncertain smile swept over her face. “Excellent. I shall see to it that the servants are made aware of your missing ring, Mr. St. John.”
“Thank you. Now I must be off. Pray have a good day, Lady Strathmore.”
She flickered a smile, then watched him leave. He made his way outside, halting on the steps. The day was not as fine as the others, a low scattering of clouds and a hint of a breeze promising rain.
Devon took the pathway to the stables. Just as he rounded the last corner, he paused. Kat stood in the courtyard with the largest bay he’d ever seen. She was holding an apple behind her back, and the horse was attempting to reach behind her and steal it.
As beautiful as the horse was, Kat outshone it. She looked adorably mussed as she dodged this way and that, trying to avoid the horse’s velvet nose. She glowed of health and laughter.
Devon waited until he was almost even with her before he spoke. “That is the tallest horse I’ve ever seen.”
“Shhh!” Kat twinkled up at him and gave the apple to the horse. “Lady thinks she’s a tiny, delicate thing. I try not to disabuse her of those notions. If she had any idea how heavy she really is, she’d refuse to take another fence.”
Devon patted the horse’s velvet nose, grinning a little. “She’d wait to sprout wings, hm?”
“Or for someone to carry her. She’s dreadfully spoiled.”
“Surely not that badly.”
“Oh yes. She
is everyone’s darling. Even Malcolm brings her carrots and sugar when he thinks no one is watching.”
Devon had no doubt about that, though he rather thought Malcolm did not bring treats to the horse, so much as he brought treats to his sister’s favorite pet. “And here I thought Trusty was your most prized horse.”
“Trusty? Why would you think that?”
“Because Trusty is the mount you gave me when I allowed you to ride Thunder. When two people trade, there is an unspoken implication that the two will strive to trade something of equal value.”
Her green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh? Are you saying that Trusty was not an equal?”
“Not compared to this horse, no.”
“Well…of all my horses, Trusty has the sweetest temper.”
“And?”
Kat pursed her lips. “She also has a lovely mane.”
Devon tried not to look too long at her lush lips. “What else does Trusty have?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“Not after seeing Lady.” He reached out and patted Lady’s neck. “I suppose I should ask if this is your finest mount rather than just assuming that it might be.”
She grinned. “Yes, she is. I haven’t ridden her for a week because she had a strained foreleg. But it seems healed now.”
“She’s a beauty and will make my poor mount appear lame.”
“Thunder?” Laughter shining in her eyes, Kat covered Lady’s ears. “Please do not get her hopes up. She can be quite despondent if she thinks to win and then doesn’t.”
It was nonsensical, but it helped dissipate some of the tension he’d felt earlier, though it did nothing to alleviate his concern over the lost ring. He put away those thoughts; surely the ring would turn up. “What brings you here this morning? I thought I was to meet you at the cottage.”
“I’m escaping,” she said. “Simon has been most obdurate about things of late. Besides, I thought we might ride out from here, to the north. You’ve only just a few days left, and should it rain, you might not have another opportunity.”
“Actually, I may stay a few days longer than I’d originally expected.” He didn’t have to wait long to see her reaction.
She gave an impulsive hop. “Wonderful!”
The natural eagerness of her voice made his heart lighten. “Lady Strathmore is planning an event of some sort,” he said. “It appears that I don’t have a choice in the matter but to postpone my business in Edinburgh.”
“Your brother will not be happy.”
“Marcus will be fine; he’s rarely happy, anyway.”
“Poor man! Still, I am glad you’ll be staying.”
“Oh?”
“Of course!” Kat’s smile lightened the cloudy day. “I am selfishly hoping that means that all of us can have more rides together.”
“All of us?”
“You, Thunder, Lady and I. In fact…would you like to ride Lady today?”
“That is very kind of you,” Devon said, touched despite himself. He reached over to pat Lady’s neck. “She’s a lovely horse.”
“Aye. You know, if she didn’t already have a name, I might consider calling her St. John, but she’s not in the least bit averse to being held to bridle, so…” She shrugged, an impudent grin on her lips.
“So this magnificent beast could have been my namesake. How lovely.”
The horse nudged Kat’s pocket, sending her stumbling to one side. “Easy!” she ordered. “That is for later in the day.”
“Another apple?” Devon questioned.
She nodded, patting her pockets where two round bulges could be seen. “I have one for her and one for Thunder.”
The horse sniffed her pocket loudly, leaving a damp imprint, and then reached up and tugged on the white scarf that hung from Kat’s shoulders. Kat sighed as she rescued her scarf. “Oh for the love of—”
Devon chuckled. “We had better go before she nibbles off your clothing in an attempt to win another apple.” Although…nibbling off Kat’s clothes held some appeal. A lot of appeal, if he was truthful.
They were soon riding, down the path. They rode on for some time, the slight wind rustling the leaves, the sun soaking the world with light.
After a while Kat pulled up, and they trotted along beside each other. “How are things at the castle?”
Devon hesitated. He wanted to tell her, but wasn’t sure how much to confess.
She caught his look and said, “I know how it is there. I lived there once, too, you know.”
“You are right, of course. I hadn’t thought of that.” He sighed. “Things are tense, with Malcolm and Fiona glaring at one another when Fiona isn’t crying on the settee or Malcolm storming about the house. And Murien—” He stopped and shrugged.
“I know all about her, too. You should be on your guard, I heard that—” Kat’s mouth clamped shut. “You should just have a care.”
He managed a wry smile. “You may not credit this, but I have been on my guard against marriage traps since I was fifteen. I have no wish to ride out a bachelor and return an engaged man, and yet I have seen it happen to friends of mine.”
“You need not worry about it with me. I do not find the thought of marriage attractive.”
He looked at her quizzically. “May I ask why you’re so set against it?”
She shrugged, looking away. “Some people are born for that sort of thing. I find that I am not.”
“People…you mean women.”
“Like Fiona.”
“And Murien,” he added.
Kat sent him a sharp look. “Has Murien been trying to get her claws into you?”
“I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”
Kat raised her brows.
Devon laughed. “Very well, perhaps I would say that.”
He looked so mischievously sexy that the thrum of attraction that Kat was battling suddenly swelled and sent a bolt of heat through her. She instantly repressed it, though her body ached as if she’d deprived it of something crucial.
“I apologize for prying,” Kat said. “I shouldn’t be speaking of Murien or any of your other flirts.”
“If we are going to talk about my flirts, we most definitely have to talk about yours.”
“I don’t have any.”
“Well, not now. In order for someone to find you to flirt with, they’d have to have a map to the cottage and a cudgel to get through those lads of yours.”
She grinned. “’Tis true, that. Which brings me to my problem; they just don’t make men capable of reading maps.”
“I read maps. But only if there is a treasure to be found.” He pulled Lady up short. “Perhaps we should find somewhere to eat before this rain lets go.”
She glanced over their heads, then nodded. She led them to a small bluff, looking out over the wind-tossed fields. Devon dismounted and tied Lady to a low shrub. Then he went to Thunder and helped Kat dismount. The feel of her in his arms sparked the heat that had been growing all day. She was so perfectly made for him, her hips at his, her face only an inch or so lower. To kiss her, all he had to do was bend down ever so little—
Somehow, in thinking about kissing her, he did. Kat responded immediately, kissed him back, her arms sliding about his neck, her body melting to his. He devoured her, his mouth seeking, demanding. His hands splayed over her back as he melded her to him. Passion exploded and flared. Devon slid his hands lower until he was cupping her backside and holding her hips firmly to his.
She moaned beneath his mouth and pressed herself against him. God, but he wanted her. Every day with her had fed his desire. Every time she laughed, he wanted to kiss her. Every time she tilted back her head to look up at a bird or at the canopy of trees overhead, he wanted to open her gown and free her lush breasts, to hold them and cup them and taste them until she sighed his name. Every time she talked about the glasswork or Malcolm or her horses, or anything that ignited her passion, he wanted to sweep her from her feet and sample that passion for himself, let
it sweep them both away.
And now he held her in his arms, her body moving as restlessly as his. Devon finally broke the kiss, but he did not release her as he usually did. This time he just held her. She clutched his coat, her face buried in his neck, her scarf on the ground at their feet. Her warm breathing tickled his overly active body, but all he did was hold her a little tighter. He waited for his breathing to still, resting his cheek against her silky hair, before he said, “One day soon, we are going to have to do something about this.”
She lifted her face and met his gaze. “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Her cheeks colored, but she didn’t deny it.
“It is building between us. Can you feel it?”
She nodded.
He lifted his fingers to brush them across the line of her cheek. “I want you,” he said simply. “I want to make love to you.”
“Perhaps…perhaps we should eat.” She moved out of his arms, stopping to retrieve her lost scarf.
Devon watched her open the leather bag that held their food. She hadn’t agreed, but she hadn’t refused him, either. For now, he would have to at least pretend to be agreeable to that.
He laid out their lunch while Kat fed apples to the horses, talking to them in a soft voice as if they were children. Thunder and Lady loved the attention and nickered in return, searching for more apples among Kat’s pockets.
Devon watched from the corner of his eye. When he caught himself envying the attention she was bestowing on the horses, he shook his head ruefully. He was so randy he was beginning to act like a lovesick swain, something he never did, even when deep in the throes of a new love.
Thank goodness none of his brothers was about or they’d tease him mercilessly. Especially Marcus who, at the age of thirty-nine, was becoming something of a tyrant.
Devon gestured toward their lunch, now spread upon a blanket. “The wind is picking up, and it is beginning to look more like rain. We should eat quickly.”
She smiled, finally leaving the horses. “Aye, Captain!”
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