An emerald-green habit lay on her bed, spread out in luminous glory. Kat had to pause before she touched it, just to admire it once again.

“’Tis a lovely color fer ye, mistress,” Annie said from where she’d followed Kat into the room. “Deep green and severely tailored. Ye’ll look pretty as a picture, ye will.”

Kat’s face heated. “Thank you.” It was the only article she’d kept out of the generous wardrobe Malcolm had ordered. Mainly because she so loved to ride. On a horse, flying down a path, she felt light and thin and pretty.

“Ye’d best hurry,” Annie admonished. “Or His Lordship will be here afore ye’re ready.”

“He’s not a lord.”

“Och, he looked like one. Lord Handsome is what he should be called. Now come and dress.”

Later, Kat stared at herself in the mirror. Annie had been right—the habit fit perfectly. And the plain, almost severe style suited her, too. The coat was simple, following the nice line of her shoulders, angling down to her waist and ending there, at her waistband. The sleeves were long and narrow while the skirts were full, but not too much, so that they could be adjusted on her side saddle.

The only levity in the entire ensemble was a starched white cravat that filled the gap at her neck, and a fluttering white scarf that draped over her shoulder. The splashes of white served a purpose for they emphasized the full curves of her breasts. Kat frowned at that. She had more than her fair share of curves, a fact that made clothing difficult to fit.

Kat turned to Annie. “Well? What do you think?”

Annie sighed again, her grin belying her exasperation. “I think the same thing I thought two minutes ago. Ye look like an angel. If ye don’t believe me, ask the lads. They’ll tell ye what they think, will ye or nil ye.”

That was true. “Thank you, Annie.” After placing a quick kiss on the housekeeper’s cheek, Kat snatched up her hat and dashed down the stairs and across the clearing to the workshop.

She stopped outside the wide door, pausing to gather her nerve. Inside was the warm murmur of masculine voices as the men worked, joked, and teased one another.

Kat fingered the stiff material of her riding habit.

Perhaps she shouldn’t ask them what they thought. It was just that she wasn’t certain it was the type of clothing to appeal to a man. Perhaps she should wear her black habit instead. It wasn’t as fitted, but was of a more modern design.

She took a deep breath and then stepped through the wide open doors. “I’ve a question,” she announced, waiting until every eye was upon her. Then she held out her arms to either side. “What do you think?”