That, Devon decided, is why I will never marry. It suddenly seemed silly to be uneasy about the talisman ring. Magic it might be, but Devon had his own protection against such tomfoolery. Just seeing the expression on Malcolm’s face as he contemplated his troubled marriage added yet another line of impenetrable bricks to an already thick wall around Devon’s reluctant heart.

“Blasted female,” Malcolm said with a sigh. He raked a hand through his hair, a quiver of emotion flashing over his mobile face.

Devon thought of all the times from years past that he and Malcolm had laughed at those men who seemed in the clutches of the deadly disease of matrimony. Now it seemed that Malcolm had himself become a victim. It was a damned shame.

Malcolm’s smile stretched awkwardly over his cheeks. “I know what you’re thinking and—”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking. None at all.” Devon pulled his plate of now-cold food forward. The food might be cold, but Devon’s thoughts were just heating up. “Let us eat and talk of more cheerful things.”

But in the back of his mind, a plan was forming. A plan that had to do with the reclusive, ruined-to-society Kat Macdonald. Aplan that would guarantee that whatever muslin-dressed pitfalls fate might throw in front of him, Devon would be ready to meet them all.

He smiled at his friend. “Tell me about your stables. I brought that gelding with me, the one I wrote to you about.”

“Did you? I cannot wait to see it. Kat’s mad about horses, too. She has almost two dozen of them, eating their heads off in her stables.”

Devon filed that bit of information away and made another comment about horses. Soon the conversation turned toward matters of sport and the hunt and didn’t falter once. But even while discussing the seeming dearth of fox this season, Devon was planning how he would find the location of a certain cottage nestled deep in the woods beside Kilkairn Castle.

Chapter 4

I-I have something to say to you, sir, a-and I hope that you will…what I mean is that, I-I am not here to argue with you precisely—nor at all because arguing is not what I had in mind but—I mean, I want to discuss something—but—oh blast it all! Never mind! Just pass the stupid mint sauce and let’s talk some more about the weather.

Viscountess Mooreland to Viscount Mooreland, while having a rare, private moment at dinner before attending the theater

To one side of Kilkairn lay a winding river, a slash of silver ribbon across the deep jewel-green fields that surrounded the castle. The river provided a source of fresh, sparkling water as well as negated the need to fence the entire north side of the property.