feelings, even if she did not know what you were saying.
You have such very expressive eyes, Kate. They are the
mirror to your heart.”
Kate flushed hotly. Were they? she wondered uneasily.
And if so, had Marc read their message last night, and seen
her helpless love for him? Humiliation and shame burnt in
her chest. She made herself eat her breakfast, although it
almost choked her.
Marc tapped on the door as they finished. He was
looking alive and vital this morning, his blue sweater and
casual dark blue slacks very neat compared with the clothes
he had worn last night. He grinned at Kate. “How are you?
You look very pretty.”
She became hotly aware of the scantiness of her
nightdress and looked around for her dressing-gown.
“Come back, later, my son,” his mother said sternly.
“Kate is en deshabille, and not ready to receive male
visitors.”
“I only came to tell her that her fiancé has arrived. I sent
for him this morning.” His grey eyes danced challengingly.
“I thought she might want to see him.”
Kate felt her nerves jump, but she kept her face under
control. “Thank you,” she managed to say stiffly.
His mother went slowly to the door. “Come down when
you are ready, my dear,” she said gently. “There is no
hurry.”
The door closed and Kate was alone. Now there could be
no doubt left in her mind about Marc’s feelings towards her.
If he had cared about her at all would he have sent for
Peter? Was this his way of telling her that he was not