It was funny; when she was with Devon, everything seemed so right. But then, when she wasn’t with him, the doubts began creeping in. The damning little thoughts that asked her what she thought she was doing, spending time with a man who, by his own admission and Murien’s insinuations, changed his affections as easily as most people changed their clothing.

Kat pulled the comb through her hair one last time, then braided it. The situation with St. John was too perplexing to consider this late at night. Perhaps, when she saw him tomorrow, she’d know the answer. One made all the easier by warm sunlight and a new day.

A scratch sounded at her window. Kat paused in braiding her hair, but the sound did not come again. She finished braiding, then rose and carried the candle to the bed.

Another scratch sounded, and this time she could tell it was the tree limb that, when the wind blew from the south, bent until the branches scraped the casement. She frowned. It hadn’t seemed that windy before…was there a storm blowing in? She went to the window and flipped the latch, then pushed it open.

“Kat!” came a strident whisper.

Kat jumped, pressing a hand to her heart.

“Kat!” came the voice again, this time closer.

She blinked, then leaned forward. The tree branch was bent toward the house, but there was no wind. What there was, however, was a large man, steadily climbing the tree to her bedchamber. “St. John!”

He paused, grinning up at her. His teeth flashed in the pale moonlight. “It’s after midnight.” He was a scant six feet away now, and she could make out the shape of his face, a shadow of nose and eyes and smiling lips.

“I know it’s after midnight. What are you doing here?” she asked, astounded and perplexed and frightened just the teeniest bit. He was getting closer with each moment, climbing with the surety of a man who had clambered countless trees as a lad.

She suddenly realized that he’d said “tomorrow.” Good heavens, he was coming because she’d promised…What had she promised?

But she knew what she’d promised…and she’d meant it, too. Or she had until Murien had let her know how far gone Kat already was. The truth was that she already cared too much for St. John to have a simple dalliance with him. If she wasn’t careful, she’d reveal her feelings and damn what friendship she and Devon did share; a friendship far more precious than any Kat had ever had.