‘Not now.’

He stared. ‘What?’

‘What Mark needs now is for us all to sit down to supper and be friendly-or at least act friendly. Explanations can come later. Then I’ll tell you what I want to know.’

From his frown she guessed that this wasn’t how people usually treated him. And she seemed to have the gift of reading his thoughts, for she could follow the lightning process by which he worked out how to turn this to advantage.

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Then if you’ll have supper with Mark I can do some work.’

‘No, you can have supper with us,’ she said firmly. ‘How often do you and he eat together?’

‘Not often, but I have things to do.’

‘Indeed you have, some more important than others. The most important is to be with your son.’

His lips tightened. ‘Miss Wharton, I’m grateful for the trouble you’re taking for Mark, but this is not your decision-’

‘Oh, but it is. Let me make it clear to you how much my decision it is. If I can give up my evening for your son, so can you. Either you agree to be there for supper, or I’m leaving, right now. And you can explain my absence any way you like.’

Now he was really angry. ‘I’m not in the habit of being dictated to, in my own home or anywhere else.’

She was too wise to answer. She merely followed her instincts and met his eyes. Anger met anger. Defiance met defiance. Mark, returning, found them like that.

‘Lily says she’s laid supper on the terrace,’ he said. ‘Shall I tell her you’re coming?’

For a moment she thought Justin would refuse and walk out. But at last he smiled at his son.

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘Lead the way.’

Mark instantly took Evie’s hand and almost dragged her out on to the terrace overlooking the garden. It was a pleasant place with red flagstones and wooden railings, expensively designed to look rustic. Here a wooden table had been set for supper.