Chapter 9

Laura woke not more than a hour later to a rather insistent knock on their bedchamber door. "Tell them to go away," she muttered as she tried to snuggle closer to Remington's chest.

"In order to do that, love, I'm going to need to get up," Remington said gently as he tried to slide off the bed without moving Laura too much.

"Damn," she swore, "get rid of them."

Remington stood, straightened his shirt before moving to the door. Opening it just a crack, he said, "Mickeline? What is it? Mrs. Steele isn't feeling well and we wish to not be disturbed."

"I understand that, your Lordship, however there is a solicitor here. Says he's from London. Rather insistent fella," Mickeline said apologetically.

"A solicitor? From London?" Remington repeated.

"Yes, sir," Mickeline nodded in affirmation.

"Ah, take him to the study. I'll be down in a minute. Thank you, my good man," Remington said, nervously running a hand through his hair. Closing the door, he moved back to sit on the edge of the bed, "Laura, love, the solicitor Mildred mentioned is here. I'll meet him, you stay here and rest."

Laura's eyes opened slowly. She was processing what he just said. "The solicitor is here? Now?" she said groggily.

"Appears so," Remington answered as he ran his fingers lightly down her cheek. "I'll tell you all about it after. Get some rest. You need it, love," he said as he leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

"No, no, you need me… I can sleep later," Laura groaned as she slowly sat up, trying to clear the sleepy fog from her head.

"Are you sure? I can…" Remington started to argue but Laura cut him off.

"I know you CAN do this by yourself but I want to be there, just in case," she said, running her hand along his arm. "Just give me time to splash some water on my face."

As Laura headed to the bathroom, Remington checked his appearance in the mirror. He brushed his hair back with his hands, buttoned his shirt higher and straightened it out. Laura emerged, looking more awake, her own hair straightened out, the gauze headband noticeably absent. "Laura, where is your...?" he motioned toward her head.

"I'll be fine for a bit. Besides, its making my head itchy," Laura admitted. "Ready, Mr. Steele?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, Mrs. Steele," Remington said, taking her hand as they walked down the steps toward the study where they could hear Mickeline talking.

"Ah, here they are now, Mr. and Mrs. Steele. This is James Cartwright, solicitor for Carter, Faulker, Judge, Taylor and White in London, my Lord," Mickeline made the introductions.

A rather tall, lanky gentleman rose to stand before them. He had dark hair, cut short, sharp features and dark brown eyes. Dressed in a brown, three piece suit, he had an air of authority about him. He spoke with a clipped accent, "Mr. Steele, Mrs. Steele. I have been sent to serve you with the announcement for the reading of the Last Will and Testament for one Daniel Chalmers. You know of him?"

"Yes, yes I do," Remington answered.

Mr. Cartwright stepped forward, handing Remington a thick, sealed, light grey envelope. "The reading will be held on Thursday evening, six o'clock sharp. Should you not be able to attend, please notify the office immediately. I'll be expecting your presence," he said before turning abruptly to Mickeline. "Please show me out. My business is completed."

Remington nervously turned the envelope over in his hands several times as he leaned against the arm of the couch. Laura watched, debating what to say.

"Do you want me to open it?" she asked softly.

"No, no, I'll do it. I'm just not sure… I knew this day was coming… " Remington tripped over his words. Deciding he couldn't find the right words, he slowly tore the envelope open. Pulling the stack of papers out, he skimmed the pages, but stopped as unshed tears blurred his vision. He dropped his head and hands, unable to hide his emotions any longer. Laura stepped forward, pulling his head to her shoulder, wrapping her arms around his back. Remington held her as the tears fell silently, absorbed into Laura's sweater.

They held each other for what felt like an eternity before he finally cleared his throat as he lifted his head. "Laura, I… ah… thank you, love," he whispered, his voice faltering still.

"Shhh, Rem, there's no need to thank me. Do you want me to read these?" Laura said softly as she indicated the papers in his hand. Remington gently shoved the stack toward her, his hands shaking slightly, unable to look at them again. Laura took them, and read quietly, "Dear Mr. Steele. Your presence is requested for the reading of the last will and testament of the deceased, one Daniel Chalmers. Should you be unable to attend, please reserve council with one of our attorneys to represent you for any decisions regarding the estate of Daniel Chalmers as well as any holdings should you be the recipient of any property, investment or residuary estates. Included with this proclamation is a list of all attorneys in our practice as well as the named executor for the deceased, Daniel Chalmers." Flipping the pages, Laura stopped as she read the last page. "Rem, Daniel named you his executor. 'I, Daniel Chalmers, name my son, Remington Steele as sole executor for my estate.' Now we know why the solicitor was so insistent in getting in touch with you."

Remington pulled his mouth tight, then ran his hands across his lips, wiping away the remaining tears that streaked his cheeks. Shaking his head he said, "I don't know what to say, Laura."

"There's nothing to say. I think Daniel said it all. He named his son," Laura said as she put her hand on his chest in comfort.

"But how do we know he's telling the truth? How do we know he wasn't lying to all of us, eh? I've no proof, other than his word, that he is, was, who he said he was," Remington's mood changed quickly from grief to anger. He pulled himself to his full height then, stepping away from Laura began pacing, a sure sign he was agitated.

"We don't know, do we? We don't know if he was really your father or if he took it upon himself to think of himself as your father. We might never know the truth, but maybe, just maybe there's something here," Laura held up the papers in her hand, "something in his estate, his loft, that is proof. Maybe he's hidden something away all these years. Something you've never seen."

"But why wait, Laura? Why? So I can be tortured by… by… his memory? By all the could have beens? Why didn't he tell me twenty years ago, dammit, when he found me on the bloody streets of London?" Remington paced, frustrated, angry, each question a turn of his body, each thought a stab with his hands to the space around him.

Shrugging her shoulders in defeat, Laura tossed her hands in the air, "I don't know. I don't know why he waited. But I do know one thing. He loved you. He loved you so much he protected you all these years, protected your heart."

'My heart, Laura? What… how can you say that? How can you say the man that spent twenty years building the ultimate con protected my heart? Bloody hell, he almost destroyed it, he damn well did. If he had told me, gave me any indication way back when…" Remington was borderline furious, punctuating each word with a jab or swing of his hand, the muscles in his jaw flexing furiously.

"If he had, I never would have met you. There would be no Remington Steele, no us. We can't change the past, Rem, but we can plan the future. Our future, together," Laura stood up in front of him, her hands on his chest to stop him from pacing, to try to calm him.

"You're right, Mrs. Steele, you're right," he said sounding almost defeated.

"I don't want to be right," she answered him.

"Then what is it that you do want?" Remington asked.

"I want you to know that I love you and we will get through this, like everything else. It's just another test for us, but we'll pass it with flying colors," Laura smiled weakly, hoping he would respond.

Sighing, Remington hugged her closely as he said, "Any test taken for you, my bride, is well worth it."