reaction with a totally jaundiced eye. He had been seeing this reaction to his mother’s looks all his life, had found it to be the height of embarrassment when introducing her to schoolfriends, followed by university friends—the fact that she was old enough to be their mother making no difference! Old or young, men were always bowled over by the way his mother looked.
Darcy, he could see, looked slightly green as she also noted the young man’s response to Margaret Fraser.
‘Shall I pour the tea?’ his mother offered lightly once they were alone again.
She could damn well answer his question, was what she could do!
‘Go ahead,’ he told his mother dryly. ‘And while you’re at it, tell us whether or not you’ve heard from Daniel.’
Was it his imagination, or did his mother’s grasp of the teapot tremble slightly as he repeated the question…?
If it did, she quickly brought it back under control, graciously leaning forward to hand Darcy her cup of tea. But Logan wasn’t fooled for a minute; his mother might be a wonderful actress, but he had known her too long to be taken in!
‘Well?’ he pressed again once she had given him his own cup of tea.
His mother gave Darcy a small smile. ‘He was like this as a child, you know,’ she remarked. ‘Dogged!’ She shook her head. ‘He had learnt to walk by the time he was nine months old, could talk by the time—’
‘Mother!’ Logan interrupted her, heated colour on the hardness of his cheeks. ‘I’m sure Darcy has absolutely no interest in hearing when I walked, talked, or, indeed, any of those other normal childhood achievements!’
His mother raised dark brows. ‘Is it my imagination or are you a trifle tetchy today, Logan?’
A trifle—! One day he really was going to wring her neck for her! ‘No, it isn’t your imagination, Mother,’ he bit out through gritted teeth. ‘As I have already explained to you, I do not appreciate being dragged into this mess!’
‘Then, my dear Logan,’ his mother returned calmly, putting one slender hand on his arm, ‘why don’t you just leave Darcy and I to it? I’m sure we both appreciate the fact that you’re a busy man. I can easily get a taxi back later. I’m sure we can manage without you—can’t we, my dear?’ She turned to Darcy.
Logan also turned to Darcy. He was only here because of her, and he didn’t appreciate being dismissed by his mother as if he were some errand boy who had completed his job! If Darcy now did the same thing—!
Darcy pulled a face. ‘I’m sorry, Logan, I really didn’t think…Of course you must go. I’m sure you have other things you need to do.’
‘Fine.’ He slammed his teacup down on the table before standing up. ‘I’ll leave, then.’ Without waiting for further comment from either of them he turned and strode out of the hotel.
To blazes with the pair of them! He had done as Darcy had asked him, his mother had accepted him accompanying her to the hotel, and now he had been dismissed by both of them!
He was so angry he almost forgot he had driven here, that his car was still parked in the basement of the hotel. Which only served to increase his anger; between the two of them, his mother and Darcy were making a complete mess of his ordered life—and him!
Darcy watched Logan leave with a certain amount of dismay, concerned that he had left in a temper, and not exactly relishing the idea of being alone with his mother, either. But, by the same token, she didn’t think the two of them would talk frankly with Logan present, which was something they needed to do.
‘I shouldn’t worry too much about Logan,’ his mother cut gently into her thoughts. ‘He has a hot temper—which he hates. Logan likes to be in control, you see,’ she explained affectionately. ‘But a temper is often something beyond our control. However, as I said, don’t worry, his temper is hot, but it quickly goes cold again.’
It seemed quite strange to be sitting here discussing Logan with someone who knew him so intimately; not only did Margaret know when he had walked and talked, she had also been the one to care for his every need as a baby. It was hard to envisage a totally helpless Logan…!
‘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 wished 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 e´clair 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
