even as the judgmental thoughts crowded his mind he pulled himself back.
He was the last person who should judge. His choices—misguided and full of his own foolish vanity—had resulted in far more heartache and pain than he could have ever imagined.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, his sister’s name on the readout. “Kenzi. Prompt and efficient as always.”
“Excellent. I can see by your nasty and condescending tone Grandfather convinced you to take on Dr. Magnini’s situation.”
“You knew damn well he would.”
“And you knew damn well you would, too.”
He sighed, the stiff set of his shoulders relaxing slightly. Whatever else she was—and royal pain in the ass frequently sat on the top of the list—his sister had his back. She also understood him, likely better than any other member of his family. “She’s in deep, Kenz.”
The tart lemons faded from her voice and underneath the professionalism he heard the camaraderie they’d shared since they were small. “Grandfather knows she needs help and I’d wager he didn’t have all the specifics when he not so gently encouraged us to take this job.”
“Or more likely chose not to share them.” He caught her up quickly on what he’d gleaned at dinner—both the information Isabella shared as well as his overarching suspicions about her situation—before going in for the kill. “She’s got some serious research on her side. Thinks that’s the reason people are after her.”
“You think she’s legit? Grandfather’s got an eagle eye but even he can get rusty from time to time.” Kensington broke off, the line going quiet, before she continued. “I looked into her background.”
Liam knew the circumstances of her father’s downfall would have pinged for Kensington almost immediately so it was some surprise when a ready defense leapt to his lips. “She shared her background with us already and made no attempt to hide who her father was.”
“He’s a nasty piece of work.” The sound of light tapping on her keyboard had a small smile curving his lips. Whatever else she was—nearly all of it good—his sister was a dog with a bone when it came to information. “I’m sending you what I’ve found. Check your email.”
“Aye aye.” The faint beep alerted him the message had arrived.
“Liam—”
His sister hesitated, very un-Kenzi-like. That silence did more to catch his attention than the loudest shout. “What is it?”
“This isn’t a joke. She’s going to have problems. Serious ones, if her father’s any indication. Add on how she’s chosen to build her career and you’ve got someone whose choices are very personal.”
“Isn’t that the very definition of the choices we make for ourselves?” Liam wasn’t sure why—first his grandparents and now his sister—but where he normally let things slide off, something in her words lodged in his gut. So the good doctor had something of an ax to grind in her rush to get over her past. Until she’d made the monumental mistake of making the information public, she was well within her rights to figure out where she came from however the hell she pleased.
“Just be careful of her motivations.”
“You can stop your worrying. She appears normal enough, for a poorly dressed scientist who seems somewhat oblivious to the world around her.”
An image of the woman standing on his grandparents’ front stoop leaped into his thoughts, a slightly manic look in her eyes as she spun toward him with her wet umbrella. The mania that filled the deep green of her eyes did battle with what could only be described as an absent-minded quirk of her eyebrows.
“You sure did notice a lot for an hour’s visit.”
The impression in his mind of those vivid green eyes faded as he keyed back into all the things Kensington wasn’t saying. “That’s my job.”
“And I’m doing mine. Look at the file and let me know your impressions. Anything else you want me to dig into, just let me know.”
“Got it.”
“Give Grandfather and Grandmother a kiss for me. I’ll talk to Grandfather in the morning.”
“You always do.” An image of her sister’s daily conversation over oatmeal and blueberries with Alexander filled his thoughts and he sought to lighten the mood he’d managed to weigh down. “Maybe you can break with tradition tomorrow and toss a few raspberries in your oatmeal. You know. Shake it up a little.”
“I’ll take it under advisement.” He didn’t quite get a laugh, but he did hear the smile through the three thousand miles that separated them.
They disconnected and Liam took a few minutes to skim through Kenzi’s email. He’d spend more time with it later, but the base facts matched what he’d gleaned at dinner.
She’s going to have problems. Serious ones, if her father’s any indication.
Liam read through the list of her father’s grievances—spying and treason the least of his offenses—and fought another roll of judgment as he imagined the power of Isabella’s research.
And the danger that would be unleashed if it got into the wrong hands.
He had to help her. It’s what they did with the House of Steele.
And maybe, just maybe, if he found a way to fix Dr. Magnini’s problems he might gain some salvation from his own.
* * *
Penelope Steele patted the foil into place around some of Seamus’s famous chocolate chip cookies. They were her grandson Campbell’s favorite, but the rest of her grandchildren had eaten more than their fair share through the years. She’d tried repeatedly to replicate the recipe, but had never found a way to get the proper mixture of gooey chocolate chips and rich, vanilla-tinged dough.
So she’d left Seamus to his expertise and had honed hers to a sharp point.
“You don’t need to do this, Mrs. Steele. Dinner was a feast.”
“Nonsense. A little sweet after the interrogation you received this evening is only fair.”
“Your family’s taking on my...circumstances. They deserve to have their questions answered.”
“Yes, well, my grandchildren sometimes need to realize when a job is more than a job. I know you don’t know us, Isabella, or have any reason to trust us. But Alex and I have known your grandparents for years. We want what’s best for you.”
The young woman blinked, the words an obvious surprise. “Thank you.”
“I mean it. Your grandfather has kept us updated on your work through the years. He’s so proud of what you’ve accomplished.” Penelope laid it on with a trowel, pleased to see Isabella’s stiff, stoic demeanor fade as talk shifted to her grandfather.
“He’s been so supportive. So understanding.”
Penelope heard the
