Steeling a Dream:
Part 3: House of Steele (R)
Part 3: House of Steele (R)
Steeling a Dream:
Part 3: House of Steele
Part 3: House of Steele
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Steele Holting On
Chapter Six: Introductions
As June turned into July, Roselli helped them process the adoption paperwork in time to register Siobhán
for a nearby all-girls college prep school. Testing determined that she needed only to focus on American
government and the higher sciences as her math, language arts and history knowledge were nothing short
of phenomenal. As Siobhán told Laura, “When you’re locked up in a house, it’s easy to find time to
study.” The school placed her as a junior because of her young age but gave her the option of either
graduating in a year or staying for two in order to take additional electives to round out her education.
Construction began on the penthouse, and Siobhán danced with excitement over the plans for turning the
space into three bedrooms and a playroom. Remington worked with the architect to preserve a certain
portion of the other apartment so that she had the “old” master bedroom and bath for her use. To give
Siobhan that privacy, the Steeles had decided to give up the idea of a separate children’s bathroom and
expand the existing one instead. The workout space and play area would separate Siobhán’s rooms from
the new children’s rooms. The only untouched area of that corner of the penthouse would be the current
guest bedroom where Siobhán was staying. The rest would be torn out and completely rebuilt.
At the moment, the work next door left the family undisturbed. Unfortunately, Remington figured out
that the walls were going to come down between the two places just about the time Laura started her last
trimester. Remembering Kate in those days had him more than a little nervous.
And speaking of Kate … Remington discovered that managing the press was easy. Managing Laura’s
family was much, much harder.
That week, Laura called her mother and broke the news. Naturally, Abigail came to see the girl for
herself and spent the entire luncheon she insisted on having with the new family asking questions that
even Mr. Steele found difficult to deflect. Abigail's obvious enchantment with the girl gave Laura hope
for their future relationship.
Of course, Mr. Steele could do no wrong in Abigail's eyes. Laura received a pointed reminder as she
walked her mother to the car.
“Now, Laura. I don’t want you to be holding all this against Remington. He’s a good man. You know
that men have their little flings when they are young. I’m certain he was simply sowing his wild oats
before he settled down with you. She’s a pretty girl, and I expect you to treat her well.” Abigail dug in
her purse for her keys before giving her daughter a hard look.
Laura rolled her eyes. “Mother, I told you that I’m legally adopting her. Siobhán is mine too.”
Abigail looked her up and down. “Yes, well, you were a moody, irritable teenager. I hope she has a
better temper than you.”
“Mother, I like her. She’s a sweet young woman. I’m glad she’s come to live with us.” Laura tried
once again to reassure her mother.
“I just don’t want you running off Mr. Steele and his daughter the way you ran off Wilson.” As usual,
Abigail missed the hurt in her daughter’s eyes at that remark and kept talking. “He’s a good catch, treats
you very well, and I won’t have you ruining it over this. You’ve invested a good couple of years in this
marriage. Don’t throw that away.”
Pressing her lips together in determination to keep her composure, Laura crossed her arms and stepped in
front of her mother. “Mom, I love Remington. And he loves me. Siobhán is his, which makes her
mine.”
Abigail patted Laura's cheek before getting into her car. “Yes, Laura, I know. But don’t blow it, dear. I
like having another granddaughter. She’ll be an excellent addition to the family. Have a nice day.” She
pulled the door shut and drove away, leaving her daughter standing on the curb in frustration.
“That went rather well,” Remington commented lightly as he and Siobhán caught up with Laura.
Laura clutched her own arms as she turned and tilted her head back, swallowing back tears and slowly
blowing out her breath. “I can never satisfy her.”
Having missed the conversation between mother and daughter, Remington reached for her hand. But
Laura saw the worry in Siobhán’s face and cleared the frustration from her own. “Siobhán, my mother
berated me about making certain that I treat you well. She wants what’s best for you.” She mustered up
a smile and a laugh. “In fact, she said that she likes having another granddaughter.”
Siobhán’s frown cleared, and the trio stepped into the waiting limousine.
Donald and Frances welcomed the Steeles into their home on Friday night. Danny goggled over his
exotic grey-eyed cousin with her Irish accent and willowy figure. He’d recently discovered girls, and
having a beautiful one dropped on his doorstop fired his imagination for weeks.
Frances took one look at Siobhán, noting the obvious similarities between the girl and Remington, and
nodded knowingly before complimenting Laura in private on her aplomb in dealing with the “situation.”
In the privacy of their bedroom that night, Laura quietly vented her frustrations to Remington. Pacing
about the room, she said, “What bothers me more than anything is that both Mom and Frances accepted
the idea that you have a nearly grown daughter without a second thought. Donald looked annoyed, but
Frances essentially shrugged and said ‘boys will be boys.’ ”
“Laura, you told me that this is how they would react.”
“I know; I know. I just wish they wouldn’t be so predictable. I’ve got to quit expecting more from them
than I should.” Raking her fingers through her hair, she added, “I guess I need to learn to deal with this
now. It’s only going to get worse when it hits the press.”
Remington sat on the edge of the bed, catching her fingers as she walked across the room again. “I’m
sorry, love.” He knew Laura’s relationship with her mom was tenuous on the best of days. It had
improved with marriage and pregnancy but obviously had suffered a major setback with all this.
Annoyed at his apology, she retorted, “Rei, we’re doing this for Siobhán. It’s not about you. No one
can change the fact she looks just like you. I only wish my family was a little more astute.” Shaking her
head again, she added, “None of this is any different from when I was at home. Kate was the only one
who could tell when I was pulling something over on Mom or Frances.”
“How did Kate take it when you told her this afternoon?”
Laura slanted a wry glance at Remington. “They’re coming in a month. Be prepared to answer
questions.”
The Policeman’s Ball on Saturday was an ideal place to break the story, and the media bought it without
issue. Remington and Laura entered the room first, her pregnancy obvious in a white column dress that
clung in just the right places. She wore a stunning red diamond pendant that rested just where her belly
started to curve. Siobhán followed, escorted by Kaleb Carter and wearing a pale grey dress that accented
her silver eyes and slim figure.
Remington had asked Kaleb to escort his daughter since he trusted no other to keep his hands off her.
The press had a field day with his not-very-subtle protective nature, finding it amusing that the former
playboy worried over a stunning debutante. Remington played the media well as he gave the appropriate
explanations. He kept the focus on him making much of both his pregnant wife and “daughter” during
the evening. Siobhán wasn’t allowed to dance with anyone but him or her escort, and Laura was amused
to see a hint of defiance in her “daughter’s” expression by the end of the night as she turned down yet
another good-looking young man who asked for a turn on the dance floor.
Laura breathed a sigh of relief as Remington’s defensive instincts were, for the moment, not focused on
her and the baby--or the rather expensive jewelry she wore. All in all, it was a wonderful evening. She
danced with several police officers including Detective Jarvis and the police commissioner. The rest of
the time, Remington swayed with her on the dance floor and murmured innuendos into her ear while
keeping an eye on Siobhán.
Katy and Murphy flew down at the beginning of August and weren’t so easy to deceive. Given the state
of the penthouse--which Murphy found a great many things to rib Remington about--they elected to stay
with Abigail even though Siobhán offered to sleep on the sofa for the weekend. When they came to visit,
Siobhán was fascinated by both sets of twins. When the younger ones were awake, she played with
them until they were ready to drop again. While they slept, she peppered Kate and Laura with questions
about growing up together.
After a while, Laura distracted the teen by asking Kate for her opinion on how to outfit the nursery.
Wanting to be helpful, Siobhán took it upon herself to take notes. While she wrote, Kate watched both
her and Laura, tapping her cheek thoughtfully. Laura knew by that look that there was a conversation to
be held later.
Murphy and Remington sneaked out while the ladies were occupied and found a table at the bar next
door. After the last weekend they’d had together, where Michaels had knocked some sense into his head
after he'd panicked over Laura's pregnancy, Steele knew he owed his brother-in-law a debt of gratitude.
The bartender nodded when they arrived and sent over a couple of drinks via the blonde waitress.
Remington could see Murphy's irritation, assumed it was directed at him as usual, and settled
comfortably in his chair to be berated.
“A daughter, Steele? One you’ve managed to keep hidden for fifteen years? And now you spring her on
Laura when she’s pregnant? Right. Tell me another one. I’m not buying it.”
Remington leaned back and took a quick drink from his bottle. “You tell me, then.”
Murphy eyed him and mentally sifted through the few facts he had. “She looks too much like you not to
be related.” He thought for a moment, sipping his beer. “I’ve seen your mother’s picture. You both
look like her. But she can’t be your sister through your mother.” He took another swig. “You
mentioned cousins once. She’s your cousin. Why do you have custody?”
Steele kept his face composed. Laura hit that one dead in the middle. “Keep going. This sounds
interesting.”
Murphy grinned, knowing he was on the right track. “She’s Irish, and you haven’t had contact in a while
or Laura would have mentioned it to Kate. Her parents aren’t here, but she’s not grieving. So either
they’ve been gone a while or they aren’t dead. Or one of each.” He caught the barest flicker in Steele’s
eyes. “The latter. One dead, one gone. The dead one is a while back. The other … why would the
other allow you to adopt? Why would her parent give consent for adoption--not just guardianship? You
changed her name to yours, put out this story and staked your reputation on it. To protect her from
what?”
Remington was amused at Murphy’s thought process. It had been a long time since he’d seen his brother
work through the clues of a mystery in this manner, reminding him why the man made a good detective.
Murphy worked the facts in a loop in his head until they made sense. It wouldn’t be long now.
“The parent wants to protect the child by getting her out of Ireland and changing her name. No one
knows you’re related. The parent will be … in jail perhaps? … for a while--maybe a long while--and has
to appoint a guardian. But he doesn’t. He signs away parental rights in your favor. Whom do you know
with enemies that might go after a daughter while he’s in jail? Who has gone to jail recently in Ireland
that might know you and think it would be safe to give you custody of his daughter? Who thinks you
have that kind of power to protect her?”
Remington drank deeply from his own glass and flicked his eyebrows at Murphy, who drew his own
together in a scowl. “It can’t be O’Callaghan. He has a daughter, but he’s dead. His wife is dead.
Johnny Carlisle has the girl because he kidnapped her. Carlisle’s been arrested in Bermuda. It was in the
paper … a couple of weeks before Laura told Kate about Siobhán.”
Murphy sat back, stunned. “Wait a minute. Either you’re related to O’Callaghan--but I can’t imagine
you would take in his daughter under any circumstances out of respect for Laura. But what about
Carlisle? Is Carlisle really her father? He could sign consent. Crap. You’re related?”
Impressed by his brother-in-law’s deductions, Steele nodded. “Carlisle. Siobhán and I are second
cousins. But she’s mine now, Murphy. And no one will think different.” His voice was firm, and he
tapped the table for emphasis.
Murphy nodded, thinking it through. “It makes sense. It also explains why Laura is so calm about the
situation. Kate figured Laura would have a conniption and couldn’t figure it out. Damn, Steele. She
looks just like you. It’s a little weird if you ask me. So what’s it like having a teenager in the house?”
Relieved at Murphy’s apparent acceptance of the situation, Remington relaxed. “Odd. Very odd.
Siobhán alternates between being intensely private and incredibly chatty, but she’s intelligent, and I don’t
mind the latter much. She reads voraciously and is fascinated by the telly. It’s apparent that she’s used
to entertaining herself but likes company. She enjoys going anywhere with us at all and has excellent
manners. Daniel would be pleased by her deportment. Laura thinks she’s so damned grateful to be out
of the cage she was in that she’s afraid to rock the boat right now.”
“That would make sense. You’re lucky she’s not an angry kid.”
“No--that she’s not. In that, she and I are polar opposites. At her age, I fought against anyone and
anything. In retrospect, I wonder how Daniel managed to get through to me.” He shook his head and
played with the bottle, remembering the arguments they’d had. “Daniel was like a damned terrier. Once
he had hold of me, nothing I did would shake him loose. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he never gave
up on me.”
Murphy saw the sadness in his friend’s eyes and changed the subject. “What do you do with her while
you work?”
“She comes with us most of the time. Laura likes having her along while she does a bit of legwork.
Siobhán throws off the scent just by being there, doesn’t ask questions until the interview is over, and
then peppers Laura with intelligent questions and observations. Taking her along lets Laura slow down
without having to admit she needs to do so. When we’re at the office, Siobhán hangs out on my couch
and reads.
“I do like taking her to the movies. We made a deal: for every old movie I make her watch, I have to
take her to a new one. So far we’ve seen Big, A Fish Called Wanda and Die Hard on her end and Love
Affair, Casablanca and Gone with the Wind on mine--although she says I owe her one because the latter
was in two parts.” Remington shook his head in amusement, remembering the teen’s earnest arguments
about that one.
“Does Laura go with you?”
“When she can, but she’s working like a fiend these days knowing that soon she’ll have to take some
time off. I think she’s rather glad the baby is due around the holidays. It’s a slow time of year
anyway.” He paused for a quick sip. “I feel for the girl. Laura was right when she said Siobhán was
terribly lonely. Sometimes Siobhán stays at the flat, but not often. She tells me she’d rather take a book
and be in our company than be alone with a whole house full of toys. She does miss walking about on
Carlisle’s land though, so we have Sunday outings to the beach.”
Remington grinned at the memory. “Laura looks adorable in a swimsuit now. Rather like a pregnant
fairy when her hair is curling from the sea water and it’s dripping down her back.”
Seeing the image in his head, he reached for a napkin and borrowed a pen from a passing waitress,
sketching as he talked of Laura, the baby and their last trip to the obstetrician. Murphy watched in
fascination as Steele turned quick, bold strokes into a portrait of Laura in just a few minutes. He laughed
when Remington drew in a pair of ethereal wings and a forest background where he had her standing on
a tree limb.
“Don’t let her see that. It completely ruins her image of the independent woman capable of holding her
own against any man,” Murphy warned.
“I think I’ll hang it in our bedroom.” Remington held up the napkin and admired it while drinking his
beer.
Late that evening, Siobhán nibbled on a curl while listening to Kate and Laura talk. Murphy had taken
the boys back to Frances’ house to put them to bed, giving the twins a chance to visit without the boys
interrupting every five seconds. Remington took advantage of the situation and met with his trainer at the
fencing academy for a refresher. It had been a while since he’d made it over there and knew he was out
of form.
Laura and Siobhán took up opposite ends of one sofa and snacked on a fruit, cheese and cracker tray
that Remington had left for them to munch on. Kate sat on one of the cushy chairs, dangling her feet
over the arm and picking through the green grapes to find a red one hiding underneath before casually
asking, “So tell me, Siobhán, exactly how are you and Remington related?”
Siobhán blanched and looked to Laura who collapsed in gales of laughter. Laura reached up and patted
her daughter on the arm. “It’s okay. That’s the problem with twins--it’s nearly impossible to put
anything past them.” She turned to Kathleen. “Siobhán is biologically Remington’s second cousin
through his mom and her dad. They shared a great-grandmother.” Tilting her head, she asked, “What
gave it away?”
Kate sucked on another grape. “Sorry, Siobhán--it’s the fact that you still aren’t comfortable calling him
‘Dad.’ At first, I thought it was because you hadn’t seen him in a while, but then I realized that you didn’
t think of him as your father in the first place. I will admit, though, that Murphy’s knowing smirk when
he came back from the bar was the nail in the coffin.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head in
amusement. “We’ve known each other for a decade, and he still thinks he can put one over on me.”
Seeing the teen’s frightened expression, Kate sat up to reassure her in sincere tones. “Siobhán, I won’t
tell anyone. As far as I’m concerned, you belong to Remington and Laura. Why you came to live with
them is none of my business--even though my curiosity is driving me nuts. You’re one of my nieces
now. I only pointed it out to you because when school starts, you should be prepared. The other kids
are going to ask you questions, and you’ll need to have answers ready.”
Siobhán chewed on her hair again, and Laura scooted over to sit next to her. The girl looked at her.
“What kind of questions will they ask?”
Laura was as honest as she could be. “At very minimum they’ll want to know why you and your dad
have Irish accents and I don’t. They’ll probably start asking questions about your mom, where you lived
in Ireland, where you went to school and what you did for fun. It’s not meant to put you on the spot.
They just want to get to know you, and asking about where you’re from is an obvious question.”
“What should I tell them?”
“Stick to the truth whenever possible. I don’t like telling you to lie, Siobhán, but you’re old enough to
understand that for a few years, you don’t have a choice.” Laura tapped her fingers on her drawn-up
knee, thinking it through. “Try this: explain that your mom worked in the UK--say the antique business--
and she traveled a lot. That’s why you had a governess and stayed close to home. If you talk of your
travels with Johnny, pretend it was your mom taking you instead of Johnny. That way, everything else
can be truthful.
“But don’t make up stories, Siobhán. After a while, you’ll lose track of what you told to whom, and you’
ll be branded a liar. If you tell only one or two lies and stick to those like glue, then they’ll pass muster."
Laura found a piece of cheese and popped it into her mouth. “Better yet, watch Remington. He’s a
master of not answering questions in such a way that you don’t realize he’s avoiding the topic. We’re
doing the same thing with you. We’re not hiding the fact that you just now came to live with us, or that I’
m not your mother. Mostly, we gloss over the date your mom passed away; if anything, that’s the lie we
tell--that she passed away recently instead of ten years ago.”
Kate spoke up, “Siobhán, when a new person asks you where you are from, it’s simple to say that you
grew up in Ireland, your mom died, and you came to live with your dad. Most kids will shy away from
asking any more questions about your background when they hear about your mom. They don’t have to
know that it wasn’t recent. You can change the topic by asking about their shoes or purse or whatever.
They won’t expect you to know all the cool trends and places to hang out, so they’ll be happy to
expound on that instead.”
Siobhán nodded, wondering if she would remember all the right things to say.
3 November 2009
Chapter Seven: Quickening
As June turned into July, Roselli helped them process the adoption paperwork in time to register Siobhán
for a nearby all-girls college prep school. Testing determined that she needed only to focus on American
government and the higher sciences as her math, language arts and history knowledge were nothing short
of phenomenal. As Siobhán told Laura, “When you’re locked up in a house, it’s easy to find time to
study.” The school placed her as a junior because of her young age but gave her the option of either
graduating in a year or staying for two in order to take additional electives to round out her education.
Construction began on the penthouse, and Siobhán danced with excitement over the plans for turning the
space into three bedrooms and a playroom. Remington worked with the architect to preserve a certain
portion of the other apartment so that she had the “old” master bedroom and bath for her use. To give
Siobhan that privacy, the Steeles had decided to give up the idea of a separate children’s bathroom and
expand the existing one instead. The workout space and play area would separate Siobhán’s rooms from
the new children’s rooms. The only untouched area of that corner of the penthouse would be the current
guest bedroom where Siobhán was staying. The rest would be torn out and completely rebuilt.
At the moment, the work next door left the family undisturbed. Unfortunately, Remington figured out
that the walls were going to come down between the two places just about the time Laura started her last
trimester. Remembering Kate in those days had him more than a little nervous.
And speaking of Kate … Remington discovered that managing the press was easy. Managing Laura’s
family was much, much harder.
That week, Laura called her mother and broke the news. Naturally, Abigail came to see the girl for
herself and spent the entire luncheon she insisted on having with the new family asking questions that
even Mr. Steele found difficult to deflect. Abigail's obvious enchantment with the girl gave Laura hope
for their future relationship.
Of course, Mr. Steele could do no wrong in Abigail's eyes. Laura received a pointed reminder as she
walked her mother to the car.
“Now, Laura. I don’t want you to be holding all this against Remington. He’s a good man. You know
that men have their little flings when they are young. I’m certain he was simply sowing his wild oats
before he settled down with you. She’s a pretty girl, and I expect you to treat her well.” Abigail dug in
her purse for her keys before giving her daughter a hard look.
Laura rolled her eyes. “Mother, I told you that I’m legally adopting her. Siobhán is mine too.”
Abigail looked her up and down. “Yes, well, you were a moody, irritable teenager. I hope she has a
better temper than you.”
“Mother, I like her. She’s a sweet young woman. I’m glad she’s come to live with us.” Laura tried
once again to reassure her mother.
“I just don’t want you running off Mr. Steele and his daughter the way you ran off Wilson.” As usual,
Abigail missed the hurt in her daughter’s eyes at that remark and kept talking. “He’s a good catch, treats
you very well, and I won’t have you ruining it over this. You’ve invested a good couple of years in this
marriage. Don’t throw that away.”
Pressing her lips together in determination to keep her composure, Laura crossed her arms and stepped in
front of her mother. “Mom, I love Remington. And he loves me. Siobhán is his, which makes her
mine.”
Abigail patted Laura's cheek before getting into her car. “Yes, Laura, I know. But don’t blow it, dear. I
like having another granddaughter. She’ll be an excellent addition to the family. Have a nice day.” She
pulled the door shut and drove away, leaving her daughter standing on the curb in frustration.
“That went rather well,” Remington commented lightly as he and Siobhán caught up with Laura.
Laura clutched her own arms as she turned and tilted her head back, swallowing back tears and slowly
blowing out her breath. “I can never satisfy her.”
Having missed the conversation between mother and daughter, Remington reached for her hand. But
Laura saw the worry in Siobhán’s face and cleared the frustration from her own. “Siobhán, my mother
berated me about making certain that I treat you well. She wants what’s best for you.” She mustered up
a smile and a laugh. “In fact, she said that she likes having another granddaughter.”
Siobhán’s frown cleared, and the trio stepped into the waiting limousine.
Donald and Frances welcomed the Steeles into their home on Friday night. Danny goggled over his
exotic grey-eyed cousin with her Irish accent and willowy figure. He’d recently discovered girls, and
having a beautiful one dropped on his doorstop fired his imagination for weeks.
Frances took one look at Siobhán, noting the obvious similarities between the girl and Remington, and
nodded knowingly before complimenting Laura in private on her aplomb in dealing with the “situation.”
In the privacy of their bedroom that night, Laura quietly vented her frustrations to Remington. Pacing
about the room, she said, “What bothers me more than anything is that both Mom and Frances accepted
the idea that you have a nearly grown daughter without a second thought. Donald looked annoyed, but
Frances essentially shrugged and said ‘boys will be boys.’ ”
“Laura, you told me that this is how they would react.”
“I know; I know. I just wish they wouldn’t be so predictable. I’ve got to quit expecting more from them
than I should.” Raking her fingers through her hair, she added, “I guess I need to learn to deal with this
now. It’s only going to get worse when it hits the press.”
Remington sat on the edge of the bed, catching her fingers as she walked across the room again. “I’m
sorry, love.” He knew Laura’s relationship with her mom was tenuous on the best of days. It had
improved with marriage and pregnancy but obviously had suffered a major setback with all this.
Annoyed at his apology, she retorted, “Rei, we’re doing this for Siobhán. It’s not about you. No one
can change the fact she looks just like you. I only wish my family was a little more astute.” Shaking her
head again, she added, “None of this is any different from when I was at home. Kate was the only one
who could tell when I was pulling something over on Mom or Frances.”
“How did Kate take it when you told her this afternoon?”
Laura slanted a wry glance at Remington. “They’re coming in a month. Be prepared to answer
questions.”
The Policeman’s Ball on Saturday was an ideal place to break the story, and the media bought it without
issue. Remington and Laura entered the room first, her pregnancy obvious in a white column dress that
clung in just the right places. She wore a stunning red diamond pendant that rested just where her belly
started to curve. Siobhán followed, escorted by Kaleb Carter and wearing a pale grey dress that accented
her silver eyes and slim figure.
Remington had asked Kaleb to escort his daughter since he trusted no other to keep his hands off her.
The press had a field day with his not-very-subtle protective nature, finding it amusing that the former
playboy worried over a stunning debutante. Remington played the media well as he gave the appropriate
explanations. He kept the focus on him making much of both his pregnant wife and “daughter” during
the evening. Siobhán wasn’t allowed to dance with anyone but him or her escort, and Laura was amused
to see a hint of defiance in her “daughter’s” expression by the end of the night as she turned down yet
another good-looking young man who asked for a turn on the dance floor.
Laura breathed a sigh of relief as Remington’s defensive instincts were, for the moment, not focused on
her and the baby--or the rather expensive jewelry she wore. All in all, it was a wonderful evening. She
danced with several police officers including Detective Jarvis and the police commissioner. The rest of
the time, Remington swayed with her on the dance floor and murmured innuendos into her ear while
keeping an eye on Siobhán.
Katy and Murphy flew down at the beginning of August and weren’t so easy to deceive. Given the state
of the penthouse--which Murphy found a great many things to rib Remington about--they elected to stay
with Abigail even though Siobhán offered to sleep on the sofa for the weekend. When they came to visit,
Siobhán was fascinated by both sets of twins. When the younger ones were awake, she played with
them until they were ready to drop again. While they slept, she peppered Kate and Laura with questions
about growing up together.
After a while, Laura distracted the teen by asking Kate for her opinion on how to outfit the nursery.
Wanting to be helpful, Siobhán took it upon herself to take notes. While she wrote, Kate watched both
her and Laura, tapping her cheek thoughtfully. Laura knew by that look that there was a conversation to
be held later.
Murphy and Remington sneaked out while the ladies were occupied and found a table at the bar next
door. After the last weekend they’d had together, where Michaels had knocked some sense into his head
after he'd panicked over Laura's pregnancy, Steele knew he owed his brother-in-law a debt of gratitude.
The bartender nodded when they arrived and sent over a couple of drinks via the blonde waitress.
Remington could see Murphy's irritation, assumed it was directed at him as usual, and settled
comfortably in his chair to be berated.
“A daughter, Steele? One you’ve managed to keep hidden for fifteen years? And now you spring her on
Laura when she’s pregnant? Right. Tell me another one. I’m not buying it.”
Remington leaned back and took a quick drink from his bottle. “You tell me, then.”
Murphy eyed him and mentally sifted through the few facts he had. “She looks too much like you not to
be related.” He thought for a moment, sipping his beer. “I’ve seen your mother’s picture. You both
look like her. But she can’t be your sister through your mother.” He took another swig. “You
mentioned cousins once. She’s your cousin. Why do you have custody?”
Steele kept his face composed. Laura hit that one dead in the middle. “Keep going. This sounds
interesting.”
Murphy grinned, knowing he was on the right track. “She’s Irish, and you haven’t had contact in a while
or Laura would have mentioned it to Kate. Her parents aren’t here, but she’s not grieving. So either
they’ve been gone a while or they aren’t dead. Or one of each.” He caught the barest flicker in Steele’s
eyes. “The latter. One dead, one gone. The dead one is a while back. The other … why would the
other allow you to adopt? Why would her parent give consent for adoption--not just guardianship? You
changed her name to yours, put out this story and staked your reputation on it. To protect her from
what?”
Remington was amused at Murphy’s thought process. It had been a long time since he’d seen his brother
work through the clues of a mystery in this manner, reminding him why the man made a good detective.
Murphy worked the facts in a loop in his head until they made sense. It wouldn’t be long now.
“The parent wants to protect the child by getting her out of Ireland and changing her name. No one
knows you’re related. The parent will be … in jail perhaps? … for a while--maybe a long while--and has
to appoint a guardian. But he doesn’t. He signs away parental rights in your favor. Whom do you know
with enemies that might go after a daughter while he’s in jail? Who has gone to jail recently in Ireland
that might know you and think it would be safe to give you custody of his daughter? Who thinks you
have that kind of power to protect her?”
Remington drank deeply from his own glass and flicked his eyebrows at Murphy, who drew his own
together in a scowl. “It can’t be O’Callaghan. He has a daughter, but he’s dead. His wife is dead.
Johnny Carlisle has the girl because he kidnapped her. Carlisle’s been arrested in Bermuda. It was in the
paper … a couple of weeks before Laura told Kate about Siobhán.”
Murphy sat back, stunned. “Wait a minute. Either you’re related to O’Callaghan--but I can’t imagine
you would take in his daughter under any circumstances out of respect for Laura. But what about
Carlisle? Is Carlisle really her father? He could sign consent. Crap. You’re related?”
Impressed by his brother-in-law’s deductions, Steele nodded. “Carlisle. Siobhán and I are second
cousins. But she’s mine now, Murphy. And no one will think different.” His voice was firm, and he
tapped the table for emphasis.
Murphy nodded, thinking it through. “It makes sense. It also explains why Laura is so calm about the
situation. Kate figured Laura would have a conniption and couldn’t figure it out. Damn, Steele. She
looks just like you. It’s a little weird if you ask me. So what’s it like having a teenager in the house?”
Relieved at Murphy’s apparent acceptance of the situation, Remington relaxed. “Odd. Very odd.
Siobhán alternates between being intensely private and incredibly chatty, but she’s intelligent, and I don’t
mind the latter much. She reads voraciously and is fascinated by the telly. It’s apparent that she’s used
to entertaining herself but likes company. She enjoys going anywhere with us at all and has excellent
manners. Daniel would be pleased by her deportment. Laura thinks she’s so damned grateful to be out
of the cage she was in that she’s afraid to rock the boat right now.”
“That would make sense. You’re lucky she’s not an angry kid.”
“No--that she’s not. In that, she and I are polar opposites. At her age, I fought against anyone and
anything. In retrospect, I wonder how Daniel managed to get through to me.” He shook his head and
played with the bottle, remembering the arguments they’d had. “Daniel was like a damned terrier. Once
he had hold of me, nothing I did would shake him loose. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he never gave
up on me.”
Murphy saw the sadness in his friend’s eyes and changed the subject. “What do you do with her while
you work?”
“She comes with us most of the time. Laura likes having her along while she does a bit of legwork.
Siobhán throws off the scent just by being there, doesn’t ask questions until the interview is over, and
then peppers Laura with intelligent questions and observations. Taking her along lets Laura slow down
without having to admit she needs to do so. When we’re at the office, Siobhán hangs out on my couch
and reads.
“I do like taking her to the movies. We made a deal: for every old movie I make her watch, I have to
take her to a new one. So far we’ve seen Big, A Fish Called Wanda and Die Hard on her end and Love
Affair, Casablanca and Gone with the Wind on mine--although she says I owe her one because the latter
was in two parts.” Remington shook his head in amusement, remembering the teen’s earnest arguments
about that one.
“Does Laura go with you?”
“When she can, but she’s working like a fiend these days knowing that soon she’ll have to take some
time off. I think she’s rather glad the baby is due around the holidays. It’s a slow time of year
anyway.” He paused for a quick sip. “I feel for the girl. Laura was right when she said Siobhán was
terribly lonely. Sometimes Siobhán stays at the flat, but not often. She tells me she’d rather take a book
and be in our company than be alone with a whole house full of toys. She does miss walking about on
Carlisle’s land though, so we have Sunday outings to the beach.”
Remington grinned at the memory. “Laura looks adorable in a swimsuit now. Rather like a pregnant
fairy when her hair is curling from the sea water and it’s dripping down her back.”
Seeing the image in his head, he reached for a napkin and borrowed a pen from a passing waitress,
sketching as he talked of Laura, the baby and their last trip to the obstetrician. Murphy watched in
fascination as Steele turned quick, bold strokes into a portrait of Laura in just a few minutes. He laughed
when Remington drew in a pair of ethereal wings and a forest background where he had her standing on
a tree limb.
“Don’t let her see that. It completely ruins her image of the independent woman capable of holding her
own against any man,” Murphy warned.
“I think I’ll hang it in our bedroom.” Remington held up the napkin and admired it while drinking his
beer.
Late that evening, Siobhán nibbled on a curl while listening to Kate and Laura talk. Murphy had taken
the boys back to Frances’ house to put them to bed, giving the twins a chance to visit without the boys
interrupting every five seconds. Remington took advantage of the situation and met with his trainer at the
fencing academy for a refresher. It had been a while since he’d made it over there and knew he was out
of form.
Laura and Siobhán took up opposite ends of one sofa and snacked on a fruit, cheese and cracker tray
that Remington had left for them to munch on. Kate sat on one of the cushy chairs, dangling her feet
over the arm and picking through the green grapes to find a red one hiding underneath before casually
asking, “So tell me, Siobhán, exactly how are you and Remington related?”
Siobhán blanched and looked to Laura who collapsed in gales of laughter. Laura reached up and patted
her daughter on the arm. “It’s okay. That’s the problem with twins--it’s nearly impossible to put
anything past them.” She turned to Kathleen. “Siobhán is biologically Remington’s second cousin
through his mom and her dad. They shared a great-grandmother.” Tilting her head, she asked, “What
gave it away?”
Kate sucked on another grape. “Sorry, Siobhán--it’s the fact that you still aren’t comfortable calling him
‘Dad.’ At first, I thought it was because you hadn’t seen him in a while, but then I realized that you didn’
t think of him as your father in the first place. I will admit, though, that Murphy’s knowing smirk when
he came back from the bar was the nail in the coffin.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head in
amusement. “We’ve known each other for a decade, and he still thinks he can put one over on me.”
Seeing the teen’s frightened expression, Kate sat up to reassure her in sincere tones. “Siobhán, I won’t
tell anyone. As far as I’m concerned, you belong to Remington and Laura. Why you came to live with
them is none of my business--even though my curiosity is driving me nuts. You’re one of my nieces
now. I only pointed it out to you because when school starts, you should be prepared. The other kids
are going to ask you questions, and you’ll need to have answers ready.”
Siobhán chewed on her hair again, and Laura scooted over to sit next to her. The girl looked at her.
“What kind of questions will they ask?”
Laura was as honest as she could be. “At very minimum they’ll want to know why you and your dad
have Irish accents and I don’t. They’ll probably start asking questions about your mom, where you lived
in Ireland, where you went to school and what you did for fun. It’s not meant to put you on the spot.
They just want to get to know you, and asking about where you’re from is an obvious question.”
“What should I tell them?”
“Stick to the truth whenever possible. I don’t like telling you to lie, Siobhán, but you’re old enough to
understand that for a few years, you don’t have a choice.” Laura tapped her fingers on her drawn-up
knee, thinking it through. “Try this: explain that your mom worked in the UK--say the antique business--
and she traveled a lot. That’s why you had a governess and stayed close to home. If you talk of your
travels with Johnny, pretend it was your mom taking you instead of Johnny. That way, everything else
can be truthful.
“But don’t make up stories, Siobhán. After a while, you’ll lose track of what you told to whom, and you’
ll be branded a liar. If you tell only one or two lies and stick to those like glue, then they’ll pass muster."
Laura found a piece of cheese and popped it into her mouth. “Better yet, watch Remington. He’s a
master of not answering questions in such a way that you don’t realize he’s avoiding the topic. We’re
doing the same thing with you. We’re not hiding the fact that you just now came to live with us, or that I’
m not your mother. Mostly, we gloss over the date your mom passed away; if anything, that’s the lie we
tell--that she passed away recently instead of ten years ago.”
Kate spoke up, “Siobhán, when a new person asks you where you are from, it’s simple to say that you
grew up in Ireland, your mom died, and you came to live with your dad. Most kids will shy away from
asking any more questions about your background when they hear about your mom. They don’t have to
know that it wasn’t recent. You can change the topic by asking about their shoes or purse or whatever.
They won’t expect you to know all the cool trends and places to hang out, so they’ll be happy to
expound on that instead.”
Siobhán nodded, wondering if she would remember all the right things to say.
3 November 2009
Chapter Seven: Quickening