A swift glance into Keith's face told her this was so. His lips were set tight. There was a strange look in his face. Hand in hand they had come up, and her fingers pressed his tighter now.
"What is it?" she asked.
"It is John Keith's home as he left it four years ago," he replied.
The suspicious break in his voice drew her eyes from the chateau to his own again. She could see him fighting. There was a twitching in his throat. His hand was gripping hers until it hurt.
"John Keith?" she whispered softly.
"Yes, John Keith."
She inclined her head so that it rested lightly and affectionately against his arm.
"You must have thought a great deal of him, Derry."
"Yes."
He freed her hand, and his fists clenched convulsively. She could feel the cording of the muscles in his arm, his face was white, and in his eyes was a fixed stare that startled her. He fumbled in a pocket and drew out a key.