The thought cast her down, and it was with a heavy heart that she finally left Devon sleeping on the settee and made her way to the workshop.

Devon waved goodbye to Simon and Neal and…well, whoever the other one was, then wandered into the castle, his head still swollen, though thanks to Kat’s tonic, the world had ceased to tilt.

Malcolm had been wrong that winning the lads was the way to Kat’s heart. Devon had won the lads, but somehow that effort had only seemed to infuriate their mistress until she would barely speak to him.

Or was she upset about something else? He tried to think what it might be, but could not hit upon anything. Perhaps he’d said something, but his memory was somewhat fuzzy.

Sighing, Devon picked his way through the sumptuous preparations for the ball and then found his bedchamber, glad he didn’t run into anyone who might require him to speak in a complete sentence. Once Devon reached his room, he fell into his bed, hoping to fall back asleep. He was too tired to think. Somehow, he’d find a way to solve all his problems, but not now.

As soon as he closed his eyes, it seemed that Tilton was there, shaking him.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” Devon mumbled.

“Excellent, sir. Perhaps you could prove that by opening your eyes.”

Devon rolled onto his back. “What time is it?”

“After seven, sir. I ordered a bath so you could prepare for the ball.”

Devon lifted his head to see a tub sitting in one corner of the room, already filled. “It can’t be that late.”

“Oh, but it is. Shall I open the curtains and prove it? The sunset is quite brilliant this evening.”

“No! Do not open the curtains. My brain would shatter if I had to see a drop of sunlight.” Devon collected himself and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. He waited for nausea or dizziness, but none came. Kat’s tonic had indeed helped; he felt much better. He managed to bathe and dress without too much fuss and allowed Tilton to assist him into his formal attire.

“Any word on the talisman ring?”

Tilton shook his head. “I don’t understand it, sir. You offered a substantial reward. I fully expected someone to come forth with some sort of information, but no one seems to know a thing.”

“Well, keep looking.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, Tilton.” Sighing, Devon prepared to join his hosts, though all he really wanted to do was find Kat and make things right.

Soon, he told himself. Very soon.

The Strathmore ball was an unusual event. Not only was it being held out of town in the midst of the season, but it was also being held at His Lordship’s ancestral home. It was the first truly formal entertainment at Kilkairn in over one hundred and fifty years.