But all he did was cross his arms, his coat stretching over his shoulders, a lock of dark hair falling over his brow. She wet her lips. He was quite attractive, her equal in looks. They would make a brilliant couple, feted for their beauty, admired for their culture and breeding, and envied for their fortune. Well, it was his fortune now, but it could be hers if she played her cards correctly.

Resolution grew in Murien’s breast. She was not going to let Devon St. John get away. He was the perfect man for her, the one she’d been waiting for. “Mr. St. John, I wondered if perhaps tomorrow you might like to ride out with me and—”

“Do you ride?” he asked, surprised as if she’d admitted to vaulting off roofs as a hobby.

“Why yes. Of course I ride.”

“Ah. But do you ride well?”

What was this? She frowned. “Of course I do.”

His gaze narrowed, and she found herself fascinated with the way his lashes tangled at the corners of his eyes. It was unusual, black lashes and those blue, blue eyes.

“When was the last time you rode a horse?”

She wasn’t quite sure. All she remembered was that she had received several compliments and two impulsive proposals of marriage before she’d even mounted the nasty animal someone had saddled for her. “I think it was two years ago. Perhaps three.”

He laughed then, the sound startling her. She lifted her chin. “I fail to see what is funny.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said, shoving himself from the wall and walking past her to his room. “I wasn’t laughing at you, but at myself. For being afraid of a silly legend. Apparently the St. John talisman ring can be beat, after all.”

With that cryptic comment, he went into his room, shutting the door and leaving her all alone in the hallway.

Chapter 10

I was lying in bed, unable to sleep, when a truth was revealed to me. Mama, men are boils on the backside of the earth. If I had my way, I’d take a knife and lance them all.

The once gentle Lady Lucinda, to her astonished mama, the Countess of Bradford, when that gracious lady came to see why her daughter did not appear at breakfast

“He is never here.”

Fiona pressed her fingers to her forehead where a raging headache threatened. “Murien, you have only been here a week or so. How can you—”

Murien whirled to face her. “Don’t be a fool, Fiona! How can I make him fall in love with me if he won’t even stay within arm’s reach? He has been riding with Malcolm’s sister three days in a row now. I never see him.”