Kat gasped. “You—but I—how could you—” She clamped her mouth closed and glared. “No,” she said. “I will not do it.”
“You must; you seduced me.”
Malcolm’s brows lowered. “Seduced? St. John, have a care what you’re about.”
“Your sister tempted me to run away and visit her,” Devon said promptly.
Kat jumped to her feet. “I did no such thing!”
“Did you or did you not allow me into your bedchamber through the window?”
Her cheeks red as could be, she snapped, “Yes, but only because I feared you’d fall from the tree.”
“But…if she was inside her room, how could she tempt you?” Malcolm asked, apparently bewildered.
“She was walking around in a green silk night rail beside an open window that had a very strategically placed tree beside it. How could I help myself?”
“How indeed,” Malcolm murmured, comprehension finally dawning on his face. Fiona started to say something, but he caught her hand and held it to him. “Devon, I suppose you blame Kat for the tree’s existence, as well.”
“I believe she planted it by her window for that very purpose.”
“That tree is three hundred years old,” Kat sputtered.
“Ah ha! So you admit that the seduction was planned in advance.”
Malcolm stifled a laugh, and even Fiona smiled.
But Kat just glared. “I admit to nothing except allowing you into my room. That was my only fault.”
“Well, now,” Malcolm said. “This is far more serious than I thought. Kat Macdonald, you admit to allowing Mr. St. John into your bedroom at night.”
“Only once.”
Devon nodded, then added, “She also locked all her windows and doors so that the only way into the house was by climbing the tree. That is how devious she was. She had to know that a challenge like that would only inflame a man more.”
Malcolm tsked. “He’s right. Lass, what were you thinking?”
“You’ve always told me I should lock my doors!”
“And leave your window open with a tree right beside it?”
“Well no, but—”
“Malcolm, as you can see, your sister has led me down a dark path. And I, in my innocence, followed like a lamb to the slaughter.”
A tremor of a smile touched Malcolm’s mouth. “Well, Kat. What have you to say for yourself?”
Kat planted her hands on her hips. “I have nothing to say! Not a blooming thing! St. John, I will not let you get away with this. You were the one who wanted to come into my room. And you were the one who wanted to tie me up with scarves and kiss me and—”
“Scarves?” Malcolm looked stunned.
Devon just smiled.
“Who tied who up with scarves?” Malcolm demanded.
“Devon tied me up. He’s the one who—” She stopped, her brow lowering as she stared at Devon. “Wait a moment. You tricked me. You tricked me into confessing about—Oh! I see what you were—You scoundrel!”
He blinked innocently. “Me?”
“You made those outrageous allegations because you wanted me to admit to—oh!”
Devon came to stand before her, a question in his gaze. “I’m sorry I tricked you, but I thought it would be best if Malcolm knew how things stood between us.”
“Aye,” Malcolm said. “There’s no question in my mind, either. You’ll marry this man, Katherine Macdonald or I’ll see to it that ye nev—”
“No,” Devon said, taking her hand in his own. “She has a choice. I don’t want a forced bride any more than she wants a forced groom. But if she wants a willing groom, then here I am.”
Fiona gave a murmur of approval.
Kat’s throat grew tight. He knew her so well, knew her fears and her pride. “I don’t know, Devon. I don’t wish to be hurt again.”
“Love, the only way you can never hurt again is to stop living. And not even you with your stubborn pride and seven scowling giants can do that.”
Still holding her hand, he knelt before her. “Listen to me, Kat Macdonald. I want to marry you. It will stop the petty gossip that has so hurt you as well as give our sons a name. But if you cannot find it in your heart to come to me freely, then I will be content with whatever you allow. Even if I have to live in that tree beside your window until the winds blow me down, there I will go. I love you, Kat. I love you now and I will love you tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. I will love you as long as you allow it.”
Her heart filled and swelled and threatened to overflow. “Devon…how can you be so certain?”
“I always thought I fell in and out of love far too easily. Now I realize that until now, until I met you, I’ve never loved at all.”
Kat couldn’t speak. Every emotion she possessed had knotted in her throat. He loved her; she could see it in his eyes, in the way he held her hand so gently, as if afraid to hurt her. She could see it in the fact that he knelt before her so patient, so tender.
Malcolm sniffed and wiped his own eyes. “Och lassie, I think you’re going to have to marry the man. ’Tis obvious he’s daft about you. And if you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your days.”
He looked past Kat, his eyes meeting Fiona’s. “So long as there is love, one can overcome anything.”
Fiona took a hesitant step forward. “Malcolm? I—I want out of our wager.”
“Out of it? But…my love, I believe I just won it.”
“Yes, well, it was a stupid idea.” Her lips quivered. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just feared that if we had a child, you would cease thinking of me as—” She bit her lip.
There was a moment of silence and then Malcolm held out his hand. “Come, love. We have let our pride do the talking for too long. It is time our hearts had some time together.”
Fiona slowly put her hand in his, her eyes filled with tears. “But…what if we cannot agree on the things that have kept us apart?”
“Then we will learn to compromise.” His gaze searched hers. “I thought winning was important. But now, like you, I am beginning to think there are times when losing can be more rewarding. Come, my love. We have a lot of talking to do, the two of us. And here is neither the place nor the time.”
“Indeed,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder and smiling mistily. “We really must return to the ballroom. ’Tis nearing midnight and soon it will be midnight. People will wish to claim their favors.”
Malcolm turned to Devon. “May I announce that you are engaged?”
Devon looked at Kat. She took a deep breath. “I suppose we might as well.” The flash of happiness in Devon’s eyes warmed her heart.
Malcolm nodded his approval. “Excellent! We’ll make the announcement once the cakes are gone.” With that, he and Fiona walked out the door, hand in hand.
Devon pulled Kat into his arms. “See what persistence can do for a man? That’s my one fault, you know. Persistence.”
“One?” She quirked a brow at him.
“Aye,” he said challengingly.
A faint quiver touched the corner of her mouth. “I suppose everyone is allowed one.” Kat’s gaze dropped to where Devon’s hand enveloped hers. “I have to know one thing.”
“Yes, my love?”
“Will you promise on your life to always tell me the truth, even if you think it is something I might not want to hear?”
“Yes.”
He hadn’t even hesitated. That was good, wasn’t it?
“I want a long engagement,” she added.
“One month,” he said promptly.
“One month? That’s not long enough,” she protested, though she had to laugh a little, too. It was flattering that he was so very, very eager.
“Kat, my love, trust me on this. A month will seem very long to both of us since I daresay your brother is even now looking for an ax to chop down that damnable tree.” Devon captured her hand and placed a kiss on the back of her fingers. “A month may seem
like a year under such circumstances.”
Her fingers tingled where his mouth moved over her bared skin and she shivered. “You are right, as usual.”
He grinned. “Mmmmm! I like the sound of that. Say it again.”
“When you’ve earned it, and not before,” she said, trying to be severe, though her grin would not stay contained. Smiling up at him, she traced a finger over the pocket of his waistcoat where the talisman ring was tucked. “You once said this was cursed.”
“I was wrong. It was, and is, blessed.” He took the ring from his pocket and slid it over her finger.
It rested there, warm and gleaming. This time, its effect was gentler, softer, but more lingering.
She ran a finger over the silvered runes. Perhaps that was a sign. A sign to open the cold, frozen doors of her heart and let in the sunshine, one gentle ray at time. A sign to let in Devon.
The warmth of the ring seemed to sense the change in her, for it began to tingle, running up her arm and into her heart.
She looked down at the ring. “I suppose I have no choice. The ring has decided.”
Devon nuzzled her ear, a flare of delicate fire flickering over her. “I have decided. To hell with the blasted ring.”
She peeped up at him through her lashes. “If I refused you, would you haunt me?”
“For the rest of my days.”
“And make my life a living hell?”
Devon’s lips quirked. “I wouldn’t say that, precisely. I believe that parts of it would be very enjoyable indeed.”
Kat laughed then, and it seemed that the ring warmed even more with the sound. “Yes, my dear. Parts of it would be very enjoyable indeed.”
Epilogue
I love surprises. I love large ones. Small ones. Ones that come in boxes with bows. You simply cannot have too many surprises.
Mrs. Montesque-Drumme to her daughter, Lady Mountjoy, while playing cards at the Westons’ rout
A short time later, Devon pulled Kat into his arms and danced with her around the ballroom at Kilkairn.
People were still whispering, but Kat no longer cared. “I cannot believe you wished to return here. Everyone is talking about us.”
“They will be talking even more when your brother announces our betrothal.” He held her a little tighter, his hips now brushing hers. “Meanwhile, let’s give them something more…exciting to talk about.”
“You are a very naughty man. I can see that I’ll have my hands full trying to keep you from embarrassing me more than I’ve embarrassed myself.”
“Which is yet another reason you love me.” He sighed. “Gad, when I think of it, there are hundreds of reasons for you to love me! See why we should wed with all due haste?”
“You certainly think well of yourself.”
He grinned. “I can’t help it. The most beautiful woman in the room is dancing with me. I feel very superior when you’re on my arm.”
“Oh, if that’s what causes it, then by all means, continue on.” She began to say something more, when a sudden excitement began to rise in the crowd.
Voices raised in exclamation and everyone began pointing to the clock.
“Ah,” Devon said. “The iced cakes. Come, my sweet. Let’s see what jeweled favors we may find.” He took her arm and led her forward, trying to find a way through the throng.
As they went, Kat looked up and saw Malcolm standing by the table. She lifted her arm to wave—and the clock began to chime.
There was an ebullient cry and a mad surge toward the table. Kat was knocked forward, her arm outstretched. Suddenly she and Devon were watching in twin dismay as the St. John talisman ring went flying, a silver circlet that flipped end over end, above the heads of the guests, only to drop squarely onto the table of cakes.
All around them pandemonium reigned. But for Devon and Kat, there was nothing but silence.
Kat looked up at Devon. “I-I don’t know how that happened. It fit so well; I really didn’t think it was loose.”
“I didn’t, either. In fact, I thought it fit perfectly.” He lifted up and tried to see the table and the general vicinity where the ring had landed.
He was just about to say something when he caught a glimpse of the ring sitting squarely on a small iced cake, one of the few left. As Devon looked, a slender feminine hand reached from the milling crowd and took the cake, ring and all.
And then it was gone.
Devon watched as the hundreds of guests thronged, laughing and talking, some holding their prizes above their heads, others discreetly tucking them away in reticules and pockets.
The talisman ring, so recently recovered, was gone.
Kat wrung her hands. “I cannot believe I lost it like that! What will your brother say? Isn’t he supposed to receive it next?”
“Oh, I’m sure Marcus will be heartbroken.” A faint smile touched Devon’s mouth.
“Shouldn’t we at least try to look for it?”
He shook his head. “I don’t believe it would do any good. There are too many people and too many grabbing hands. Chances are, someone already has it tucked into their reticule.”
“Reticule?”
“Oh yes,” Devon said, smiling ear to ear. “Somewhere at this ball is the woman my brother Marcus is going to marry.”
Kat looked impressed. “But…how will he find her? Or the ring?”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but when the ring wishes to be found, it is.” Devon took his future bride’s arm. “Meanwhile, let us talk of more important things. What do you think of an elopement? Something with a lengthy honeymoon on the continent. You may bring your lads with you, and we can gaze at stained glass to your heart’s content.”
“A trip abroad? Really? But…what about your brother? Won’t he need help finding the ring? And his future bride?”
“Never fear, my dear. I’m certain your brother will give us a copy of the guest list for the ball. Marcus can begin there.”
“But…there are over four hundred people here!”
“Then he had better get started quickly. He’s almost forty, you know, and it is high time he found a wife. Perhaps it will liven him up some; he has gotten to be quite a tyrant of late. Meanwhile, you and I, my love, have some dancing to attend to.” And with that, Devon swept his lovely bride-to-be onto the dance floor, though in the back of his mind, he was already composing the letter to his brother:
Dearest Marcus:
Life is oft full of ironies. This is one I’m sure you will enjoy…
About the Author
KAREN HAWKINS was raised in Tennessee, a member of a huge extended family that included her brother and sister, an adopted sister, numerous foster siblings and various exchange students. In order to escape the chaos (and whilst hiding when it was her turn to do the dishes), she would huddle under the comforter on her bed with a flashlight and a book, a habit she still embraces to this day. For more information about Karen, or pictures of her chasing a box of donuts while training for a road race, visit her at www.karenhawkins.com or write to her at Karen Hawkins, P.O. Box 5292, Kingsport, TN 37663-5292.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
By Karen Hawkins
AND THE BRIDE WORE PLAID
HOW TO TREAT A LADY
CONFESSIONS OF A SCOUNDREL
AN AFFAIR TO REMEMBER
THE SEDUCTION OF SARA
A BELATED BRIDE
THE ABDUCTION OF JULIA
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
AND THE BRIDE WORE PLAID. Copyright © 2004 by Karen Hawkins. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the
text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
ePub edition February 2007 ISBN 9780061739248
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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Karen Hawkins, And the Bride Wore Plaid
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