It was nice, too, to get away from the castle. Fiona continually attempted to throw Murien in his way, even though he’d been plain in his desire to stay away from her. And Murien, the gold standard gleaming in her beautiful eyes, encouraged Fiona to do just that.

In the end, there was nothing for it but to avoid Kilkairn until the time came for him to leave for Edinburgh, a day he should be looking forward to, but strangely was not. In fact, he refused to allow himself to remember the exact day. Every time he began to think ahead, an uneasy feeling rose in him.

Kat, of course, could have told him exactly how many days until he was due to leave, for it was a thought that was never far from her mind. In fact, this very morning she had awakened and lay in her large bed staring up at the hangings overhead, her mind immediately humming. She went to sleep and woke up thinking about Devon St. John. Strange how some people came into your life and then left without making a mark, while others came for only a short time and made such a dent that it would take years to fill the hole. Kat knew she was beginning to care for St. John. Oh, not in a romantic way, of course, though she enjoyed his kisses. It took far more than a kiss to sway her heart. But she was beginning to value his friendship. Yes. That was what it was.

Still…though he made a good friend, he was only passing time, avoiding being at Kilkairn Castle, any fool could see that. Kat needed to remember that fact.

She sighed. Who was she fooling? “Thank goodness he leaves soon,” she muttered. That was the only reason she’d allowed the relationship to progress as far as it had; she knew that it would all be over in a week or so and her life would settle back down to the routines she’d developed. But for the rest of her life, she’d have memories of rides through the woods, picnics beneath the trees, shared laughter, and the enjoyment of a good friend. What could be wrong with that?

A brisk knock sounded on the door and Annie entered. The petite woman was dwarfed by the huge silver tray she carried in her hands.

Annie set the tray on the night table and began arranging the dishes. A pleasant clank and clatter filled the room.

Kat pushed herself upright, tucking her hair behind her ears. “What’s this? Breakfast in bed? But Annie, I am not ill!”

“Neither is the prince, but I daresay he has breakfast in bed every day.”

“Yes,” Kat said, “and look how fat he has gotten.”