“Curves? I wouldn’t call them that. But it scarcely matters for the woman has no name, is practically two stone heavier than she ought to be, and has ruined whatever reputation she possessed. There is simply no reason for St. John to be dallying with her unless she is rewarding him in some way.”

Fiona’s cheeks heated. “Murien! Do not even suggest such a thing. I know Kat Macdonald and she’s nothing like that.”

Murien curled her nose. “Kat Macdonald hasn’t the least call to think herself worthy of St. John. She has no real beauty to speak of.”

Fiona didn’t understand it, either. Not that she harbored ill will for Malcolm’s half sister, for Kat had been very kind to Fiona when she’d first come to Kilkairn.

But Fiona had to admit that there were far more reasons that St. John would avoid a woman like Kat rather than wish to be with her, unless of course…Fiona sat up straighter. “Murien, do you believe St. John might have developed a true tendre for Kat?”

“Lud no,” Murien said, her lip curled. “He is just amusing himself at her expense. It is painfully obvious he is running from that blasted ring. He even said something to me about it. I didn’t really understand it at the time, but now that I think about it, it makes perfect sense.”

“Oh? When did you speak to him—”

“It doesn’t matter. I think he is afraid of being forced to marry. And with Kat…how could she claim that she was ruined when she has already been so? She’s safe for him. Perfectly safe.”

“You don’t think he’s going to marry her?”

“No! He’s not a foolish man.” Murien’s impatience was clear to see. “If only he would spend more time here.” Murien leaned back in her chair, her gaze hard. “What we need is a reason to keep him here while proving how horridly unsuited Malcolm’s sister is, even for a flirt.”

Fiona tried to will her tired brain to think, but it was nearly impossible. She pressed her finger to her forehead. “Perhaps I should have a dinner party. A large one. Then we could invite Kat and he might see—”

“Fiona! That’s it! But not a dinner party.” A slow smile curved Murien’s mouth. “A ball. An honest-to-goodness ball. Oh, I can picture it now. All of Edinburgh will be here and we’ll dazzle them with Kilkairn Castle!”