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It wasn’t a name I recognized.
“Whether you like it or not, she is our granddaughter, dear,” he chided her gently. Sheila harrumphed indelicately.
“And soon she won’t be our problem any longer.”
That certainly had my attention.
“There you go again.” Remus sighed. “Giving away the plot.”
Before I had a chance to ask what the hell either one of them was talking about, the doorbell rang.
“It would appear our guests have finally arrived.” My grandmother let out a pleased smile. I looked over at her.
“Who did you invite?” I hissed. “Voldemort?”
All right, so I was deflecting. Using humor to counteract the raging heartbeat that thrummed beneath my ribcage. There was only one man I could think of that they would have walking through those pocket doors. I’d escaped him—twice—and I would be damned if I let him take me again. Because if he did, there wouldn’t be any escaping.
While the two of them were focused on awaiting their guest, I slowly slid the heavy silver knife off the table and gripped it tightly in my hand. Christian or not, I wouldn’t let anyone take me. Not without a fight.
“Ah, here is the pair of the hour,” Remus exclaimed brightly as he stood and walked around the table to greet his guest. “Welcome.”
I turned in my seat and nearly dropped the knife in my hand at the sight of their guests standing before me.
Damn, it felt good to be right.
CHAPTERTWO
Honestly, there wasn’t much in this world that surprised me any longer, and the sight of Marianne entering the dining room wasn’t shocking in the least. I’d known the manipulative snake had been involved in the conspiracy the entire time, but I hadn’t known why.
Or what she had to gain.
“Mother.” Marianne stepped forward to embrace Sheila, a smile on her face.
Wait…What?
Flashes of the small box in the cell at the barn came back to me. A baby’s tooth, a lock of hair, a photo of a baby with a woman I hadn’t been able to identify. All right, I could now say I was surprised.
This was something I hadn’t seen coming, but now that they were both standing before me, side by side, I could see it. The same dirt-colored eyes and fair complexion. The pair were alike in almost every way. From the color of their hair to the shape of their faces. They even shared the same slender nose and cut jaw.
How had no one seen those similarities before now?
When all this was over, I was going to get my eyes checked.
“Hello, dear.” Sheila smiled at Marianne before turning her attention to the man who’d accompanied her. I recognized him from the gala. “Kellan, welcome. Please, have a seat.” She motioned to the empty place settings, one of which was next to mine, while the other had been placed beside Remus.
“Thank you for having me,” Kellan told her graciously, his eyes roaming over my body as he took his seat. It wasn’t a lecherous stare. That was something I would have been able to handle. No, this stare was calculated. I had seen Elias and Christian make a similar expression dozens of times throughout my childhood when examining the women in thestables. He was appraising me like livestock. “I can see it was certainly worth the drive.”
Whoever this man was, he was Irish. His voice with thick and broguish compared to my father’s, which barely existed beyond the few typical Irish slangs he never rid himself of.
“We are so fortunate you could come down on such short notice.” Sheila waited for her guests to be seated before taking her own. “Please,” she motioned to the trays of food set out, “help yourself.”
This was all very Norman Rockwell.
The table descended into silence as Marianne and her guests loaded up their plates and dug in. I just stared, however, not reaching to touch my food again. My mind had shifted into overdrive as it tried to push the pieces of the puzzle together.
Who was Marianne’s father?
Remus? Or someone else Sheila had sought company with?
