“I was, sir. However, the lower footman’s youngest brother was apparently roused from his warm cot and offered a large sum to saddle your horse.” Tilton met Devon’s gaze evenly. “I assured the entire staff that you frequently rode out while still sleeping. They were intrigued of course, and I had to answer a thousand questions, most of them having to do with what would happen if you were sleep riding and had the sudden need to relieve yourself—would you be awake enough to realize it. After we surmounted that hurdle, they began to ask why you would ride in your sleep to His Lordship’s sister’s cottage. I fear I had no answer for that.” Devon didn’t like the sound of this at all. “The staff all know, then, where I went?”

“Oh yes, sir. The wagering has been fierce. Some seem to think Miss Spalding may yet have a chance.”

“What about my sleep riding? Didn’t anyone believe that?”

“A few of the more dewy-eyed ones, but not enough. It would not surprise me if the story filtered back to His Lordship.”

Wondrous. Devon wondered what Malcolm’s reaction would be to such information, and a faintly sick feeling tightened his stomach. “Any word yet on the lost ring?”

Tilton shook his head, a frown creasing his brow. “No, sir, and I’ve interrogated the entire staff. No one has even seen it. I asked your footman, Paul, to make inquiries among the stablehands.”

Devon took a sip of his juice to cover his relief. It was reassuring to know that the ring hadn’t unknowingly been in his possession last night, when he’d been with Kat. He didn’t want to think of their time together as ordained by some family myth. He wanted it to have been of her own free choice and nothing more.

Strange how that mattered. He wondered why, then shrugged it off. Devon finished his breakfast, changed his coat for another, and then made his way downstairs. Malcolm was on the main staircase, looking about the great hall with wonder. Devon waited for some sign that his friend had heard about his late night visit, but it quickly became obvious that Malcolm was as yet unaware of anything other than the fact that his house was being turned upside down.

Boxes were stacked everywhere, as were large folds of silver and blue cloth. Tables had been removed, chairs lined up, and every servant Devon had ever seen at the castle was in evidence, scrubbing and polishing and cleaning.

Devon wondered if any of them had ever worked so hard. He watched the small army, then said to Malcolm, “I thought this was to be a small, private ball.”

“So did I,” Malcolm said grimly. “Apparently that was a misconception. Every person within fifty miles has been invited to attend.”