Added to that, the ball was given in honor of Mr. Devon St. John, and all of Edinburgh society was anxious to meet such a wealthy, eligible bachelor.

Fiona had planned everything carefully. She’d rented large pots of flowers in varying hues of violet and blue, so many that the room looked like a garden. Long silver swaths of material floated down the ancient walls, reminding one of waterfalls and reflecting the light of a thousand candles. She’d had the servants make bowers over each doorway and had threaded even more flowers there.

She’d also ordered ices, a large quantity of punch, and no fewer than three hundred iced cakes which were to be distributed at the first ring of midnight, each baked with a favor hidden inside. Most of the favors were worthless—small pairs of dice, a trumpery bit of jewelry, or some such nonsense—but three cakes had real jewels in them. The guests were already excitedly buzzing about the coming treat, many hovering over the table, wondering which cakes held the prizes.

The ball was bound to be a smashing success.

Devon caused quite a stir when he finally appeared. Fiona had been thorough in inviting all of society, and the great hall sparkled with beautiful people. Appearing somewhat harried, she introduced him to the guests. Devon instantly felt like a prize poodle on display, especially when he saw the avaricious gazes of the many unmarried women who had attended.

What was worse was that if Fiona had latched on to his left arm, Murien had positively stuck herself on to his right. He was most uncomfortable, especially when he read the possessive note in Murien’s voice.

Devon decided to let them have their way—for now, at least. He was far too busy looking for Kat to worry about Murien, anyway.

Kat, meanwhile, was still at the cottage. The dress Annie had made was beautiful; straw colored silk over sky blue…the colors made Kat’s hair gleam. She’d been astonished when she’d first caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror for Annie had altered the current style just enough to compliment her full figure.

She stood before the mirror in the sitting room now, trying hard not to glance at the clock over and over. She’d thought to go at ten, but Simon had not yet brought the cart. “Where is Simon? I’m going to be late.”

“’Tis fashionable to be late,” Annie said calmly as she pinned a blue silk flower in Kat’s hair. “He’ll be here soon. Just ye wait.”

“If he’s much longer, I shall saddle Trusty and ride over there myself.”

Annie snorted. “Ye wouldn’t dare! Not after I spent so much time a-stitchin’ that gown.”

Kat sighed. She really shouldn’t go. People would talk; they always did and Kat hated it. But this was her last chance to see Devon. Perhaps ever.