Sweet Surrender (The Dysarts) by Catherine George Page B

furniture?’
    â€˜Not furniture. Women. Or one woman, to be exact. Who is the Cartier brooch intended for, I wonder?’ Alasdair stopped dead under one of the leafless trees in the middle of the broad pavement. He seized her hands, oblivious of passers-by. ‘Tell me the truth. Are you serious about this man, Kate?’
    She stared at him angrily. ‘Not that it’s any business of yours, Alasdair, but the answer’s no. I’m not committed to anyone else, either. Now, for heaven’s sake let me go. We’re attracting attention.’
    Alasdair kept one of her hands in his as they made for the restaurant. ‘So what’s wrong with commitment?’
    â€˜Nothing. For those who care for it.’
    â€˜But you don’t. Why?’
    Kate eyed him with exasperation. ‘Let’s change the subject or I won’t enjoy my lunch.’
    She didn’t enjoy her lunch anyway, because the first person they saw, sitting alone at a table the waiter led them past, was Jack Spencer.

CHAPTER SIX
    J ACK looked up from the newspaper he was reading and jumped to his feet, his pleasure immediate at the sight of her.
    â€˜Why, hel lo , Kate. Adam didn’t say you’d be here when he recommended this place.’
    â€˜Hello yourself, Jack. Adam mentioned that you’d been in Dysart’s this morning.’ Kate smiled at him brightly, resolving to do her brother an injury the first opportunity she got. ‘Let me introduce you. Alasdair Drummond—Jack Spencer.’
    Alasdair shook the other man’s hand with such cold courtesy that, after a brief enquiry to Jack about the new baby, Kate said goodbye and accompanied Alasdair to the table he’d booked for the lunch she no longer wanted.
    â€˜Does Adam get a commission on the number of customers he introduces here?’ muttered Alasdair, holding her chair for her.
    â€˜It’s a subject I’ll take up with him as soon as I get home,’ promised Kate, amused when Alasdair seated her very deliberately with her back to Jack Spencer.
    â€˜Does your friend live in Pennington?’ he asked.
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Where, then?’
    â€˜I don’t know, exactly. I haven’t known him long. And, unlike you,’ she said, scowling at him, ‘I don’t subject my friends to inquisitions.’
    Kate studied her menu in pointed, brooding silence, then asked for mineral water.
    â€˜You should have come by train and enjoyed a glass of wine,’ said Alasdair.
    â€˜I don’t drink wine,’ she said shortly. ‘I’m not very hungry either, Alasdair. Could I just have soup, please?’
    â€˜Anything you like,’ he said promptly, the ice melting in his eyes. ‘What would you like to do after lunch?’
    â€˜What do you suggest?’
    â€˜I’ll think of something while we eat,’ he promised.
    Halfway through their meal Alasdair told her to look round. ‘Your friend is leaving.’
    Kate turned in her chair, smiled in answer to Jack’s farewell wave, then returned to her soup with more enthusiasm.
    â€˜You can relax now,’ said Alasdair, and gave her a wry look. ‘Your friend was a lot more delighted at the sight of you than I would have been in the same circumstances.’
    â€˜Because I was with you?’ Kate shrugged. ‘He’s just a friend, Alasdair.’
    â€˜And is that how you refer to me?’
    She smiled sweetly. ‘If you mean in conversation with Jack—or anyone else—I have to confess that I don’t refer to you at all.’
    Alasdair sighed in mock sorrow. ‘You certainly know how to deflate a man’s ego, Kate.’
    She laughed suddenly. ‘Sorry, Alasdair. Our farewell lunch hasn’t been much of a success, has it?’
    â€˜Farewell?’ he said, frowning.
    She nodded. ‘School starts on Monday. I’m driving back to Foychurch tomorrow.’
    â€˜It’s not on