think.”
Devon looked into his own brandy, the light of the fire reflected in the amber depths. There was something in what Malcolm was saying. Not that Devon wished to “win” Kat over. That sounded far too much like wooing and not enough like seducing.
“And then,” Malcolm continued, as if unaware that anyone else was in the room, “then I’d work on Annie.”
“Annie?”
“Kat’s housekeeper.” Malcolm glanced about the library, a wistful look on his face. “I tried to steal her away, for she’s a stern hand on the household and keeps it neat as a pin, but she’s loyal unto death to Kat.”
“You tried to steal your sister’s housekeeper?”
“I was desperate. I still am.” Malcolm gestured to their brandy glasses. “You see these? I had to wash them myself. There wasn’t a servant to be found anywhere.”
Devon grinned. “I daresay it was good for you.”
“Perhaps, but I’ll be damned if I’ll see to my own laundry.” Malcolm scowled into his drink. “Devon, never marry a dainty-looking woman, for they’re anything but. They’ll ruin your peace of mind, empty your house of its comforts, and then complain they’ve naught to do and wish to return to town.”
“Fortunately for all concerned, I don’t plan on getting married. Ever.”
“We’ll see what the talisman ring has to say about that.”
“I don’t care what it has to say. I’m not getting married and that’s that.”
“Hm. Well, speaking of rings, I don’t think Kat is at all fond of jewelry. If I was to get her a gift, ‘twould be something for her glasswork, or for her house.”
Devon set down his drink. “Malcolm, if you’re thinking I’m about to engage a campaign to win your sister, you’re wrong.”
Malcolm’s eyes widened a ridiculous amount. “By the saints, what gave you that idea?”
“You did. You and your ‘if I wanted to win Kat over’ ideas.”
“Well, you’re far and away from the truth, my laddie. Know why?”
“Why?”
“Because you haven’t a chance in hell of garnering her interest. You, my lad, are the exact type of man she is least likely to take up with.”
Devon didn’t know whether he’d been insulted or not. “What does that mean?”
“Only that she’s run up against libertines before and she—”
“I am not a libertine.”
“Rakehell, then. Or do you prefer rogue?” Malcolm asked politely, laughter in his gaze.
Despite his irritation, Devon found himself smiling a little at this. As soon as he relaxed, he realized, reluctantly, that there might be something to what Malcolm said. Devon sighed. “She’s had a bad experience, eh?”
All of the laughter left Malcolm’s face. “The worst. I think it hurt her even more than she let anyone see. Which is why she’s turned her back on all men. Especially those with a silver tongue like yourself.” Malcolm sighed. “There’s only one thing that will remedy that.”
“What?” Devon asked before he could stop himself.
Malcolm’s gaze darkened. “The truth. She needs someone who will never lie to her, no matter the cost.”
The quiet words sifted through the silence. Devon looked at the glass he held in his hand, the edges smooth against his fingers. “I hope she finds him.”
Malcolm opened his mouth as if to reply, but then shut it. “So do I.”
“I don’t mean to pry, but it seems as if your sister is doomed to spinsterhood.”
Malcolm sighed. “I know. I have worried that—” He bit his lips, his shoulders slumping. “It doesn’t matter what I think. Or you, for that matter. Kat is even more stubborn than you, and there aren’t many who can make that claim. A pity you are the type of man Kat avoids the most. Otherwise... but no, I don’t think you have a chance. She won’t like you at all.”
Devon slowly lowered the glass from his lips where he’d been about to take a sip. From the time he’d been old enough to marry, he’d been used to people trying to fix his interest with
Devon looked into his own brandy, the light of the fire reflected in the amber depths. There was something in what Malcolm was saying. Not that Devon wished to “win” Kat over. That sounded far too much like wooing and not enough like seducing.
“And then,” Malcolm continued, as if unaware that anyone else was in the room, “then I’d work on Annie.”
“Annie?”
“Kat’s housekeeper.” Malcolm glanced about the library, a wistful look on his face. “I tried to steal her away, for she’s a stern hand on the household and keeps it neat as a pin, but she’s loyal unto death to Kat.”
“You tried to steal your sister’s housekeeper?”
“I was desperate. I still am.” Malcolm gestured to their brandy glasses. “You see these? I had to wash them myself. There wasn’t a servant to be found anywhere.”
Devon grinned. “I daresay it was good for you.”
“Perhaps, but I’ll be damned if I’ll see to my own laundry.” Malcolm scowled into his drink. “Devon, never marry a dainty-looking woman, for they’re anything but. They’ll ruin your peace of mind, empty your house of its comforts, and then complain they’ve naught to do and wish to return to town.”
“Fortunately for all concerned, I don’t plan on getting married. Ever.”
“We’ll see what the talisman ring has to say about that.”
“I don’t care what it has to say. I’m not getting married and that’s that.”
“Hm. Well, speaking of rings, I don’t think Kat is at all fond of jewelry. If I was to get her a gift, ‘twould be something for her glasswork, or for her house.”
Devon set down his drink. “Malcolm, if you’re thinking I’m about to engage a campaign to win your sister, you’re wrong.”
Malcolm’s eyes widened a ridiculous amount. “By the saints, what gave you that idea?”
“You did. You and your ‘if I wanted to win Kat over’ ideas.”
“Well, you’re far and away from the truth, my laddie. Know why?”
“Why?”
“Because you haven’t a chance in hell of garnering her interest. You, my lad, are the exact type of man she is least likely to take up with.”
Devon didn’t know whether he’d been insulted or not. “What does that mean?”
“Only that she’s run up against libertines before and she—”
“I am not a libertine.”
“Rakehell, then. Or do you prefer rogue?” Malcolm asked politely, laughter in his gaze.
Despite his irritation, Devon found himself smiling a little at this. As soon as he relaxed, he realized, reluctantly, that there might be something to what Malcolm said. Devon sighed. “She’s had a bad experience, eh?”
All of the laughter left Malcolm’s face. “The worst. I think it hurt her even more than she let anyone see. Which is why she’s turned her back on all men. Especially those with a silver tongue like yourself.” Malcolm sighed. “There’s only one thing that will remedy that.”
“What?” Devon asked before he could stop himself.
Malcolm’s gaze darkened. “The truth. She needs someone who will never lie to her, no matter the cost.”
The quiet words sifted through the silence. Devon looked at the glass he held in his hand, the edges smooth against his fingers. “I hope she finds him.”
Malcolm opened his mouth as if to reply, but then shut it. “So do I.”
“I don’t mean to pry, but it seems as if your sister is doomed to spinsterhood.”
Malcolm sighed. “I know. I have worried that—” He bit his lips, his shoulders slumping. “It doesn’t matter what I think. Or you, for that matter. Kat is even more stubborn than you, and there aren’t many who can make that claim. A pity you are the type of man Kat avoids the most. Otherwise... but no, I don’t think you have a chance. She won’t like you at all.”
Devon slowly lowered the glass from his lips where he’d been about to take a sip. From the time he’d been old enough to marry, he’d been used to people trying to fix his interest with
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