“Ah, here is the pair of the hour,” Remus exclaims brightly as he stands and walks around the table to greet his guest. “Welcome.”
I turn in my seat and nearly drop the knife in my hand at the sight of their guests standing before me.
Damn, it feels good to be right.
twenty-five
Honestly, there isn’t much in this world that surprises me any longer, and the sight of Marianne entering the dining room isn’t shocking in the least. I’ve known the manipulative snake has been involved in the conspiracy the entire time, but I hadn’t known why.
Or what she had to gain.
“Mother.” Marianne steps forward to embrace Sheila, a smile on her face.
Wait… What?
Flashes of the small box in the cell at the barn come 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 can now say I am surprised.
This is something I hadn’t seen coming, but now that they are both standing before me, side by side, I can see it. The same dirt-colored eyes and fair complexion. The pair are alike in almost every way. From the color of their hair to the shape of their faces. They even share the same slender nose and cut jaw.
How has no one seen those similarities before now?
When all this is over, I am going to get my eyes checked.
“Hello, dear.” Sheila smiles at Marianne before turning her attention to the man who accompanies her. I recognize him from the gala. “Kellan, welcome. Please, have a seat.” She motions to the empty place settings, one of which is next to mine, while the other has been placed beside Remus.
“Thank you for having me,” Kellan tells her graciously, his eyes roaming over my body as he takes his seat. It isn’t a lecherous stare. That’s something I can handle. No, this stare is calculated. I’d seen Elias and Christian make a similar expression dozens of times throughout my childhood when examining the women in the stables. He is appraising me like livestock. “I can see it was certainly worth the drive.”
Whoever this man is, he is Irish. His voice is thick and broguish compared to my father’s, which barely exists beyond the few typical Irish slangs he never rid himself of.
“We are so fortunate you could come down on such short notice.” Sheila waits for her guests to be seated before taking her own. “Please,” she motions to the trays of food set out, “help yourself.”
This is all very Norman Rockwell.
The table descends into silence as Marianne and her guest load up their plates and dig in. I just stare, however, not reaching to touch my food again. My mind shifts into overdrive as it tries to push the pieces of the puzzle together.
Who is Marianne’s father?
Remus? Or someone else Sheila sought company with?
And how did no one notice how similar the pair look when standing next to one another?
“Did you know, Ava,” Sheila’s voice breaks through my reverie. She has cleared her plate and has another glass of herexpensive merlot poured for her as she gazes at me, “that twins run in the McDonough family?”
That explains Seamus and Kiernan.
She waves her hand dismissively before answering her own question. “Of course not,” she chuckles mirthlessly. “Your mother never told you anything about your family. Did she?”
“I’m starting to see why,” I mutter.
“Your grandfather…” She pauses for a moment, her eyes flitting up to the ceilings as she rethinks what she is about to say. “The man you believe to be your grandfather, Seamus, was a twin as well. In fact, you were the first child born to the McDonough clan in over a hundred years who isn’t a twin.”
My eyes dart up to Remus.
I don’t miss the truth bomb Sheila has dropped. It is nuclear. Seamus McDonough wasn’t my grandfather. He wasn’t my mother’s father.
Not her biological one, at least.