Devon considered briefly the information Malcolm had let fall. There was an unspoken code of gentlemen that averred that one did not attempt to seduce the sisters of one’s best friends. Malcolm must have decided that any flirtation of Devon’s was nothing more than that—a flirtation, begun and ended with a kiss. Of course, Malcolm also knew that Devon would never go beyond the line of the acceptable, not without the permission and encouragement of the lady in question. What stung was that for some reason, Malcolm seemed to think his sister was immune to Devon’s particular charms—that Kat would want nothing more from Devon than a kiss.

But Devon was not so sure; Kat seemed to possess a very passionate nature. Whatever the truth, it would certainly take more than a kiss to ease his lustful thoughts of Kat Macdonald, and to satisfy the curiosity and heat he’d seen burning in her eyes.

But the real beauty of it all was that the more time Devon spent with Malcolm’s ineligible sister, the less chance there was that Devon might fall victim to the talisman ring’s magical powers.

With Kat and her ruined reputation, Devon was completely safe, no matter how far their flirtation went. More proof that he was smarter by far than any ring ever made. Smiling to himself, he urged Thunder farther into the woods, certain he was on his way to dislodge an evil fate.

Chapter 5

It’s really quite easy. As soon as you see the fires of wrath in their eyes and know your time has come, you begin the seduction. A brush of your hand across theirs when they reach for the crème pot. A heated glance. A lingering appreciation for how they look…smell…taste. Just try it, sir. I’ve been married fourteen years, and not once has she managed to ring a peal over my head without stammering and blushing like a school girl.

Viscount Mooreland to his uncle, the Earl of Stempleton, whilst viewing the horses for sale at Tattersall’s

Devon had always believed that one’s greatest strength was also one’s greatest weakness. Such was his case, anyway. From the time he’d been a child, he had never been known for his lack of persistence.

Once, when he had attained the ripe age of five, his parents had left for a brief visit to London. Devon had begged to go with them, but had been refused.

Looking back now, he could see that perhaps his parents had desired some time alone. Even though they employed a squadron of governesses and tutors, six children had to have been a drain on their marital reserves.