“We need more green if we’re to complete this new order,” Kat said.

“Aye, and we need to find it fast,” Douglas agreed. “’Tis coming on a rain and the roads will suffer. Miss Spalding’s man said the way to Sterling is washed out.”

Kat tried to look uninterested. “I’d heard that Miss Spalding was in residence at Kilkairn.”

“Arrived earlier this week. I don’t think she was going to stay at first, for she didn’t unload her trunks. Daresay all of the servants at Kilkairn were glad to see that. But then she changed her mind and had the entire place in an uproar, directing this trunk here and that one there. She even made Janie wash the sheets on her bed, she did, claiming they were dusty.”

“They probably were,” Kat said absently.

Simon drew the tarp back over the glass. “Miss Spalding has been trouble since she put on her first petticoats. I hope ye stay clear of her. There’s no reason to stir her up; ’twould be like jamming a stick in a beehive. You’re bound to get stung.”

“Of course I’ll stay out of her way. I have no reason to so much as talk to her to begin with.” If that was the type of woman Devon St. John admired, then he was welcome to her. Murien was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, but she wasn’t particularly pleasant. At least, not to Kat. There had always been a certain superior air to the woman, as if she knew her beauty and valued it more than anyone else.

“Should we put the glass away?” Simon asked, drawing on his leather gloves.

“Aye,” Kat agreed.

“Very well, Miss Kat.” He and the others climbed into the seats and hawed the wagon in the direction of the workshop.

Kat entered the house and caught sight of the clock that hung over the mantel.

Good heavens! Where had the morning gone? St. John would be here soon and here she was, still wearing her work clothing. She gathered the account books and ran up the stairs in her work boots. She halted on the fourth step when she realized that Annie stood on the middlemost step, disapproval in her clear gray eyes.

“Fie on ye, Miss Kat!” the housekeeper said, sending her a stern frown. “Ye’ll tear the runner wid those shoes of yers.”

“Sorry,” Kat mumbled, slowing down and walking more or less sedately up the final few steps. It was difficult to walk up the stairs in such a mundane manner when seconds ago she was flying up them, but she managed to take three or four more-or-less properly feminine steps until Annie was out of sight.

The second Annie could no longer see her, Kat kicked off the offending shoes, hiked her skirts, and dashed the rest of the way to her room, skidding on her stocking feet as she rounded the door.