He relaxed a little. “I understand you might still be a bit raw over what happened between you and Peter.”

“No, you don’t understand at all what happened between me and Peter. To be honest, that has nothing to do with my refusing you. I don’t love you, Channing, and I’m very much in love with someone else.”

His fair skin flushed dark red. “Then I find it worse than insulting that you would pretend an affection for me.”

“I do have an affection for you,” she said wearily. “But that’s all I have. I can only apologize if I failed to make that clear before this.”

“I don’t believe an apology covers it, Sydney.” Stiffly he rose to his feet. “Please give my regrets to your mother.”

Straight as a poker, he strode out, leaving Sydney alone with a miserable mix of temper and guilt. Five minutes later, Margerite came out of the ladies’ room, beaming. “Well now.” She leaned conspiratorially toward her daughter, pleased to see that Channing had given them a few moments alone. “Tell me everything.”

“Channing’s gone, Mother.”

“Gone?” Bright eyed, Margerite glanced around. “What do you mean gone?”

“I mean he’s left, furious, I might add, because I declined his proposal of marriage.”

“Declined?” Margerite blinked. “You— Sydney, how could you?”

“How could I?” Her voice rose and, catching herself, she lowered it to a whisper. “How could you? You set this entire evening up.”

“Of course I did.” Frazzled, Margerite waved the oncoming waiter away and reached for her wine. “I’ve planned for months to see you and Channing together. And since it was obvious that Mikhail had brought you out of your shell, the timing was perfect. Channing is exactly what you need. He’s eligible, his family is above reproach, he has a beautiful home and excellent bearing.”

“I don’t love him.”

“Sydney, for heaven’s sake, be sensible.”

“I’ve never been anything else, and perhaps that’s been the problem. I believed you when you came to see me this morning. I believed you were sorry, that you cared, and that you wanted something more than polite words between us.”

Margerite’s eyes filled. “Everything I said this morning was true. I’d been miserable all weekend, thinking I’d driven you away. You’re my daughter, I do care. I want what’s best for you.”

“You mean it,” Sydney murmured, suddenly, unbearably weary. “But you also believe that you know what’s best for me. I don’t mean to hurt you, but I’ve come to understand you’ve never known what’s best for me. By doing this tonight, you caused me to hurt Channing in a way I never meant to.”

A tear spilled over. “Sydney, I only thought—”