“Mr. Hurst, please. There will be time to discuss the artifact when we’re at the castle.”

“I take my collections very seriously. I appreciate beauty in all forms: a fine painting, a valuable object d’art”—he glanced at Moira—“a woman’s white skin.”

Ross’s eyes gleamed. “It’s refreshing to see a man who appreciates his wife’s beauty.”

“She is my newest acquisition. We’ve been married less than a month. She’s almost virginal.”

The man’s nostrils flared at that tidbit. Moira’s information was correct; Robert could almost feel Ross’s interest churn. “It has been a most enjoyable few weeks. In fact—Ah, thank you, my dear.” Robert took the glass that Moira handed him.

Moira turned and held a glass to Ross, bending just a bit so that her breasts pressed against the thin material of her gown, the thin ruffle of her chemise clearly visible.

Ross’s gaze locked on her bosom as he took the drink.

Moira straightened, meeting Robert’s gaze over Ross’s head, and Robert held up his glass in a silent toast. She was quite subtle. Later, Ross would wonder if she’d been flirting or not and, in not knowing, would be even more intrigued.

Her eyes twinkled as she took her seat beside Robert and asked Ross about the horses in his stables. Ross enthusiastically embarked on a detailed listing of every horse he owned, had owned, and wished to own. Moira listened with a great air of interest, asking questions that showed her own knowledge, while Robert pretended utter boredom. It wasn’t much of a stretch to do so, either.

Robert was actually delighted when, through the wide window, he saw Stewart leading the coach back into the inn yard. “Ah, the coach!” Robert stood, Moira following. “Ross, while I hesitate to break up such a delightful conversation, we should be on our way.”

Ross reluctantly climbed to his feet. “Och, we should at that. I lost track of the time, talking about my horses.”

“I quite understand,” Moira said fervently.

Ross looked pleased as he bowed. He made several more unctuous statements while Robert led them all out into the hallway. He sent the innkeeper to fetch Moira’s pelisse and, with a deft hand here, a smooth comment there, herded everyone into place and had them on the road in less than five minutes.

As soon as they were under way, Sir Lachlan leading the way on his large bay, Moira relaxed against the squabs. “That was a good beginning.”

Robert set his cane against the far seat. “Indeed it was. I must admit that I underestimated your skills.”

“You always did, my love.” She slipped off her wedding ring and flipped it across the coach at Robert.

He caught it with one hand and examined it. “This was a nice touch. I fear I hadn’t thought of it.”

“Details are important.”

He tossed the ring back. “Where did you get it?”

“I wore it when I was home, with Rowena. It was a good way to keep the gossips at bay.”