“So it appears.” Paul jumped down the second the coach came to a halt. He hadn’t been entirely certain he’d find the master up and about. It was only eleven, after all. But there he was, pacing the front portico, hat in hand, dressed for riding.

As soon as Paul approached, St. John smiled. “There you are! How was the inn?”

“Adequate, sir.” Barely. But it was better than staying at the castle.

“Excellent. I find Kilkairn just as satisfying.”

A smile hovered over St. John’s mouth, and Paul found himself responding. “I’m surprised ye’re up so early, sir.”

“What? Me? Why, I love mornings!” Devon waved a hand. “Just smell the fresh air. Taste the crisp coolness of the dawn.”

Paul didn’t point out that dawn had been hours ago. “Indeed, sir. I hadn’t noticed.”

“You’d better wake up, Paul. Such glorious mornings do not come often.” St. John’s eyes twinkled. “Almost never, where I am concerned.”

Paul grinned. “No, sir. Did you wish us to take you somewhere today?”

“Actually, yes. But I’m not sure where.”

“Sir?”

“I want to find a house located in the woods. A smallish house, from what I understand.”

“A small house? Ye want one to let?”

“No, no, no! This house belongs to someone, and I wish to pay a visit.”

Things suddenly became clear to Paul. He was beginning to smell a petticoat. “Sir, who might this house belong to?”

“Miss Katherine Macdonald.”

From the look on the master’s face, this was obviously a promising errand of a romantic nature. “If Miss Macdonald lives hereabouts, I daresay someone in the stable will know how to get there.”

“Excellent idea! Furthermore, I believe I should ride there myself. All I need are the directions.”

“Of course, sir. Shall I have the gelding saddled?”

“Yes. I daresay Thunder could use a stretch.” Devon had paid a small fortune for the horse, and had never regretted it. Especially today when he could ride up to Kat’s cottage astride a horse worthy of carrying a knight.

Paul bowed, then went on his way. In a relatively short time, he returned with directions, leading Thunder to the steps. The animal was huge, all gleaming black muscle and streaming mane and tail. Devon pulled on his gloves. Miss Katherine’s head was bound to be turned.

Moments later, Devon galloped across the green fields of Kilkairn toward the forest. He was spurred forward by the memory of Kat’s lush body in his lap.