“Malcolm, think a moment. If the ring finds St.John’s future wife, then it would have to be someone other than me. I am not going to marry. I’ve told you that time and again.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts. I have no need for a husband. I like my freedom and my solitude. Besides, what man would let me have my lads and the glasswork? I can no more leave that behind than you can stop caring about Fiona.”

He grimaced. “Don’t—”

“’Tis true and you know it.”

Malcolm sighed. “I had hoped that you and St. John—”

“Well, we’re not. Besides, he’s no more a marrying man than I’m a wedding woman.” She smiled at her thin joke.

Malcolm pulled the ring from his pocket and looked at it. “I suppose you are right. It didn’t seem to have a good effect on you, anyway. Are…are you certain you’re well?” Concern tightened his expression. “You looked as if you were in pain.”

It hadn’t been pain, but pleasure. Pure, unadulterated pleasure. Kat managed a smile she was far from feeling. “I’m fine.”

He eyed her a moment more, then tucked the ring back into his waistcoat pocket. “I hate to ask this, because you’re still a little pale…”

“What?”

“Remember to keep St. John about this week. For his sake, if not mine.”

A feeling not unlike panic nipped at her. “St. John is not in need of a nursemaid.”

“You don’t know Murien well enough, then. She’s unscrupulous, that one, and I don’t trust her.”

“St. John can take care of himself.”

“How can you say that? He’s used to the frail misses of London. Murien would devour him with her tea and crumpets, and he’d never know what had happened.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Kat, I would not put it past Murien to try and trick St. John into her net. I think she’d even claim ruin, if she had to.”

Kat paused. The rules regarding a woman’s reputation were murky and gray at best, which made them all the easier to break. In truth, since St. John’s family was so high and mighty, all Murien would have to do was trick Devon into being alone with her and arranging for someone to “discover” them. All told, in a castle the size of Kilkairn, it was an easy enough feat. Especially if Fiona was to assist Murien.

Kat sighed. “If she cried foul, even if he’d done nothing, it’s possible he’d be forced to marry her.”

Malcolm nodded. “And a bloody, sad shame it would be, too, for I cannot imagine two worse matched people in all of the earth.”

Kat had to admit Malcolm had a point. Her gaze dropped to his waistcoat where the ring was now safely tucked away.