To Marry McKenzie

hope, I shall be eating a meal. Isn't that what one usually does when one

comes to a restaurant?' he parried dryly.

'Very funny.' Fergus smiled without humour. 'Might I ask exactly what is

your interest in Darcy?' Brown eyes narrowed speculatively.

You might ask,' Logan gave an abrupt inclination of his head.

'Well?' Fergus pushed further.

Logan took his time answering, sipping his wine appreciatively, all the time

his gaze remaining locked with his cousin's. 'What makes you think there is

one?' he finally answered evasively.

Fergus's mouth twisted. 'She was sitting at the table with you when I

arrived, the two of you were obviously deep in conversation about

something.' He shrugged broad shoulders. 'I don't think that is the behaviour

of complete strangers.'

'Or even perfect ones,' Logan returned dryly, lifting up a dismissive hand as

Fergus seemed about to snap a reply at what he perceived as Logan's

facetiousness.

Maybe it was, but the remark had reminded him too much of his

conversations with Darcy for him not to have made that connection...

'She works for the outside catering company of Chef Simon,' he answered

his cousin economically. 'We met yesterday when she catered for a

luncheon at my office.'

'That's all there is to it?' Fergus pressed.

'Yes, that's all there is to it!' Logan echoed impatiently. 'But even if it

weren't—since when have you been my keeper, Fergus?' he charged.

Fergus seemed about to bite out a reply himself, but then thought better of it,

drawing in a controlling breath instead. 'When did you last see Aunt Meg?

Your mother,' he added softly.

Logan's mouth quirked. 'I know who she is, Fergus,' he replied caustically.

'Well?'He sighed. 'Fergus, I am not someone standing in the witness box

suffering your own particular brand of cross- questioning!'

'I don't do that for a living any more, Logan, and you know it,' his cousin

dismissed.

'Then you're giving a good impression of it,' Logan barked.

'I can assure you, I have my reasons for asking,' Fergus returned calmly.

'Have you seen anything of Aunt Meg during the last three weeks or so?'

Logan shifted impatiently. 'My mother is in her mid- fifties, and I am in my

mid-thirties; neither of us feels the need to report back to the other on a

regular basis!'

'Logan, I'm not criticising your actions as regards your mother—'

'I should hope not,' he rasped, eyes narrowed. 'Because if you were I would

feel compelled to ask when you last saw Aunt Cate. Your own mother,' he

added pointedly.

Fergus was prevented from answering immediately as the waitress arrived

with their starters.

The fish Logan thought he had ordered turned out to be Chef Simon's pate!

He was losing it, he decided, if he couldn't even remember what food he had

ordered. And all because of a young girl who reminded him of one of the

deer on his grandfather's estate; extremely nervy, they had glossy red coats

and huge limpid eyes, too.

'Do you want to get to the point, Fergus?' he asked his cousin more amiably

after tasting the pate and finding it was delicious.

'The point is, you haven't spoken to your mother recently?' Fergus also

seemed more relaxed after tasting the deep-fried Brie that was his own

starter.

Logan shrugged. 'Not for several weeks, no,' he confirmed.

'Then your being here this evening is just a coincidence?' His cousin

grimaced.

'I've already said so, haven't—? What do you mean, coincidence?' Logan

said. 'What does my mother have to do with Chef Simon?' He felt sure he

wasn't going to like the answer to that particular question!

Fergus drew in a deep breath. 'Well, as you know, I've been to see

Grandfather— Oh, no!' he groaned, glancing towards the door. 'That's all

we need!'

Logan had turned too, aware that something momentous seemed to be

taking place at the entrance to the restaurant. A short silence amongst the

other diners was quickly replaced by the babble of excited voices as they

easily recognised the woman who had just swept into the room.

The actress, Margaret Fraser.

At the very same moment, Logan easily recognised the woman who had just

entered the restaurant, and also became aware of Darcy finally bursting out

of the kitchen— perhaps he had been premature in his assumption the

couple in the kitchen were kissing and making up...? Her eyes were

glittering with unshed tears, her face was fiery-red— whether from anger or

those unshed tears, he wasn't sure.

Darcy glanced to neither left nor right as she strode purposefully towards

the doorway, although she stopped in her tracks as she too recognised the

woman standing there looking so regally beautiful.

'You!' Darcy burst out with audible disgust, grey eyes definitely gleaming

with anger now. 'Well, I hope you're satisfied,' she continued. 'You have