For Kat’s sake, he hoped it was not the latter. “It would surprise me if she attended. She’s not usually one for such things.”

Another stack of heavy boxes were being unloaded and he had to move so that the servants could clean the floor. When it came to getting things organized for an event, Fiona became a little general, ordering people about and making lightning-fast decisions.

His heart swelled a little at the thought. Lately, he’d caught her looking at him in a sad way, as if debating a horrible, difficult decision. Was she on the verge of deciding she’d had enough, that their marriage wasn’t worth fighting for?

Malcolm wiped a hand over his tired eyes. The wager had been a horrid, foolish idea and had alienated them even further. He wasn’t even sure if he really wanted to win.

Throat thick, he waved a hand at Devon. “I won’t be able to play billiards this evening. Fiona has assigned us all a list of duties, and I must see to it that the library is readied.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Just stay out of Fiona’s way. She’s a tyrant when it comes to these things.”

Devon bowed. “That, I can do. In fact, I’ll begin now.”

Malcolm managed a smile, answering St. John’s further comments as best as his aching soul would allow. Eventually Devon excused himself and Malcolm watched him go, wondering what had the lad in such a merry mood.

Well, Malcolm hoped Devon enjoyed it while he could. God knew that the second he fell in love, his happiness would be limited.

Sighing heavily, Malcolm quit the great hall and retreated to the peacefulness of his library.

Kat awoke with a pleasant, satiated feeling. It had been so long since she’d felt that way that she had to stop and think of the cause. As she stretched, her muddled morning mind stretching along with her, her ankle became entangled in something. She bent down to free herself and saw it was a strip of a white silk scarf.

Her cheeks heated as her memory came flooding back. She and Devon had made love in this very bed. And not just love, but exquisite, breathtaking love. Her breasts tingled with the memory of his hands, his mouth, of the way he’d tasted her and the power of his body over hers.

She shivered and gathered a pillow close, snuggling her cheek against it. If she breathed deeply enough, she could still smell him, the faint scent of sandalwood clinging to her sheets.

There was a knock before the door opened and Annie came in carrying something over her arm, Simon and Hamish following her. They were carrying the large brass tub and arguing about something, though they did break off their bickering long enough to wish her a good morning.