To Marry McKenzie

'I'm not worried,' she assured Margaret. 'I'm just a bit sad that he seems to be

angry with both of us.'

His mother laughed. 'I'm used to it; Logan has been angry with me most of

his life, for one reason or another. But I can see how it would be upsetting

for you,' she said almost questioningly.

Because she wondered just how close Darcy and Logan were...?

Darcy fished she knew the answer to that herself. Last night— Better to

forget last night, she instantly berated herself. But even today, Logan had

telephoned his mother and set up this meeting, as Darcy had asked him to,

had driven his mother here. That didn't seem like the actions of a man who

was completely indifferent to her.

She had even dressed up today, was wearing more make-up than she usually

did, in the hope of showing herself in a different light to Logan. Too often he

had seen her as a weeping mess, or hot and tired from working in the

kitchen; she had wanted to show him that she wasn't always like that. For all

the notice he had taken of her chic appearance today she might as well not

have bothered!

Darcy gave a dismissive shrug. 'He's been very kind,' she answered

Margaret Fraser noncommittally.

'Hmm, most unLoganlike,' his mother offered thoughtfully. 'Oh, don't

misunderstand me, Darcy,' she continued. 'I think my son is a pretty

wonderful man: kind, caring, considerate, very much the gentleman. It's just

that, usually, he tends to hide it very well.'

Darcy couldn't help it; she smiled. It was such an accurate description of the

man she had come to know this last week that she couldn't do anything else.

Logan was all of the things his mother said he was, and he really didn't like

people to realise that.

'That's better.' Margaret smiled back warmly, leaning forward to pick up the

plate of delicacies that had arrived with their tea. 'Have a cake, Darcy,' she

invited. 'We can both think about our waistlines tomorrow!'

Margaret Fraser didn't look as if she needed to think about hers at all,

slender but shapely. But then, neither did Darcy normally—so she took one

of the offered cakes, a nice gooey, chocolatey one.

'We couldn't do this in front of Logan,' Margaret continued before biting

into the chocolate eclair she had chosen. 'There's simply no way of eating a

fresh-cream cake with any degree of ladylike delicacy!' she said, before

dabbing with a napkin to remove some of the excess cream from her mouth.

'I love your father very much, you know, Darcy.'

The remark was so unexpected Darcy almost choked over her second bite of

chocolate cake! They had been talking about waistlines and cakes, for

goodness' sake; where had that last remark come from?

She looked across at the older woman, finding Margaret looking straight

back at her, her gaze steady and direct, all pretence totally gone as that gaze

revealed the full extent of her emotions.

This woman really did love her father...

Darcy swallowed hard before moistening her lips. 'Logan asked you a

question before he—left,' she began slowly. 'Do you know where my father

is?'

Margaret's gaze didn't waver. 'Yes.'

Darcy's breath left her in a relieved sigh. 'Is he okay?'

Again Margaret met her gaze head on. 'Yes.'

Darcy nodded. 'That's all I need to know.'

Margaret smiled slightly. 'Can you imagine Logan accepting my answers as

easily?'

'No,' Darcy answered honestly. 'But then, he doesn't have the same interest

in my father's welfare that I do.'

'No.' Logan's mother sighed. 'Logan's interest, unfortunately, is much closer

to home. I made a bad second marriage,' Margaret enlarged at Darcy's

questioning look.

She frowned. 'I don't think—'

'It's relevant, Darcy,' the older woman told her quietly. 'Logan was eleven

when his father died, twelve at the time I remarried—not a good age for any

boy to be presented with a stepfather!' She looked sad. 'More to the point, he

disliked-'Malcolm intensely. What I wasn't aware of, for some time, was

that the dislike worked both ways. My husband Malcolm, without my

knowledge, was an absolute brute to Logan. So much so that when he was

fourteen, Logan informed me that he hated my husband, and me, and moved

to Scotland to live with his grandfather. It took me several more years of

being married to Malcolm before I realised exactly why Logan had gone.

By which time our own relationship had been irrevocably damaged. He's

never forgiven me,' she concluded sadly.

Darcy really didn't think they should be discussing Logan in this way, and

yet a part of her wanted to know, wanted to try and fathom what made

Logan the man that he was. The things Margaret had told her already

answered some of the questions she had about him. His willingness to help

her, for one thing; he obviously knew exactly what she was going through at