Cecilia wasn't terribly concerned with her level of volume. She didn't care if the entire house heard her, because at this point, they were edging into territory she honestly felt like the house had a right to know. She wasn't sure what Rhett was going for; she kept returning to the sensation that she and Rhett were having two different conversations. Her, with the person in front of him. Him, possibly with some voice in his head, because he wasn't making any damned sense. So it went without saying that she didn't care if Marco caught them, because she didn't feel she had anything to hide.
"Great, so you say. I still don't trust you and I'm still going to follow you for the next twenty-four hours. That doesn't mean we have to talk to each other. I'm getting pretty tired of hearing about how you're screwed no matter what you do." She put a hand on her hip and looked over Rhett's shoulder at Marco, also shaking her head at the offer. "Peachy," she said, tone dry. "And no thank you. It's too early for me." God knew she might need one later.