“Take care of what?” Fiona asked, blinking as if she had just awakened from a long sleep.

Really, what had Fiona so distracted of late? It was most annoying. “Fiona, why don’t you return to the sitting room and I’ll join you there. I believe I should extend the invitation to our ball to Katherine.”

“But I can—”

“This one needs a personal touch. I will see you in ten minutes in the sitting room, and we can begin planning the entertainment for the ball.” Without waiting for a reply, Murien made her way down to the courtyard.

She caught up with Kat just as she was getting ready to mount her horse. “There you are,” Murien said brightly.

Kat turned. She was soaking wet, her hair reddish and straight to either side of her face, her riding habit molded to her frame. The sight gave Murien pause, and for the first time she found herself admitting that perhaps there was more to Kat Macdonald than Murien had first thought. “Kat, I’m so glad I caught you.”

“Indeed?”

There was a decidedly guarded look to Katherine’s expression. No fool was Malcolm’s little sister. Murien put on her best smile. “Fiona and I have been dreadfully bored, so we’ve been planning a little ball. Malcolm insisted we invite you.”

“That was kind of him.”

“Yes, well, Fiona and I argued that you wouldn’t want to come, but he was quite adamant.”

Kat regarded her flatly, no expression on her face.

Murien took that as encouragement. She allowed her gaze to wander past Kat. “I don’t know much about horses, but that one seems rather untamed. How do you ride him?”

Kat’s hand rested easily on the horse’s neck. “One mile at a time.”

Murien managed to keep her smile in place, but only with the utmost effort. “How humorous.”

“What do you want, Murien? You didn’t come to talk about my horse.”

“No, I didn’t. I came to give you the benefit of my advice.” Murien paused as if embarrassed. “I hope you don’t take this wrong, but I realize that you’ve been on your own for a long while. I’ve also noticed that you are…shall we say ‘fond’ of Mr. St. John.”

Kat’s cheeks colored. “I don’t know where you got that idea, but what I think and feel is none of your business.”

Murien’s brows rose. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. I’m certain you have every reason to be infatuated. Mr. St. John is all that is amiable. He is handsome, well off, of impeccable lineage, and possesses a very pleasing manner.” She gave a light laugh. “I daresay half the women in the castle are enamored of him. Poor Fiona can’t get the upstairs maid to do anything.”