He removed her cape and handed it to Pierre. "What's important is that you're here now," he said quietly, pulling out her chair. Sitting down as well, he lifted a hand toward the waiter.

"Yes, sir?"

"I believe my dinner companion will have a- glass of white wine?" he ordered, questioning Mildred at the same time. She nodded. "And I'll have some as well."

"Any particular preference?"

Daniel smiled. "Surprise us."

The waiter smiled as well and turned away. Mildred examined Daniel's face. "You look tired."

"I suppose I am, at that."

"I should have insisted on our having dinner at my place," Mildred told him. "What you need is a good, home cooked meal."

"Oh, my. It's been awhile since I've had one."

"You will tomorrow night. How did it go today?"

"Didn't Laura tell you after I left? I really thought that you would have gotten a full listing of all my faults, in minute detail."

"She wasn't happy," Mildred confided. "But I don't think she wants to confide me to about this. Thinks I'm too close to you and might tell you something I shouldn't."

"I'm sorry about that, my dear. I should have considered that she might do something like that. The last thing I want to do is endanger your relationship with either Harry or Laura."

"I'll survive," Mildred assured him. "She said that you seemed to be casing the joint all afternoon. And that you seemed particularly interested in the Crucifix."

"It is a remarkable piece," Daniel agreed. "Solid gold, jewels-to the right buyer worth a king's ransom."

"That's what Mr. Steele said," Mildred told him. "He showed me a picture of the Crucifix."

"Ah, but photographs don't do it justice. You'll see for yourself at the showing."

"Me? I'm not on the guest list," she reminded him.

"Ah, but Laura, Harry and I are on it. And I'm sure that Mr. Davis won't mind my escorting such a lovely woman for the evening."

Mildred shook her head. "I'd be out of place, hob-nobbing with all of those people on that list. Do you know that he's invited a Princess?" Mildred asked.

Daniel waited for the waiter to pour their wine before reaching over to cover Mildred's hand with his. "You'll outshine them all, Mildred," he guaranteed her. "I can't see you out of place anywhere. Be it a party with the so-called 'rich and famous' or in a bowling alley." He frowned, remembering something she'd told him. "The showing is Saturday evening- I seem to recall something about a bowling tournament or such that night?"

Mildred winced. "Yeah." She looked at her wine glass for a moment. "They'll just have to get along without me. It's not like they haven't done it before. With my job, I never know what's going to be happening."

"So you'll go to the showing with me?"

"If you're sure I won't- embarrass you."

"You could never do that, my dear."

The waiter came for their order, and Daniel consulted Mildred on what they should have. Once they were alone again, he refilled their glasses and picked his up. "Daniel, - do you have any family? I mean, real family. Brothers, sisters, cousins-" Daniel choked on the wine, picked up the napkin that lay beside his hand. "Daniel? I'm sorry. I-"

He shook his head, recovering his breath. "Just a- surprise that you'd be so direct in your question. I wasn't expecting it, I suppose. Why do you ask?"

"Mr. Steele said that you were very certain when you assured Dr. Becker that your illness wasn't hereditary- said you'd never mentioned any family to him."

"He never asked," Daniel reminded her. He'd known that allowing Harry to sit in on that consultation was a mistake from the start. But he'd had no reason to ask the younger man to leave.

"Because he didn't want to have to answer questions about his own background," Mildred said.

"So he thought the two were similar," Daniel nodded, turning his glass by the thin glass stem.

"But they weren't?" Mildred asked, continuing to press for an answer to her question.

"No. Not at all." He looked at her, "Why is it suddenly so important to find out about my past now?"

"He just thinks that maybe you should- contact your family- if you have any, that is. Let them know that you're ill-"

Daniel shook his head slowly. "There's nothing they could do about it, Mildred."
"Then you DO have family somewhere."

"A cousin or two," Daniel acknowledged with a sigh. "I've made my peace with the only one I care to. I consider Harry and Laura to be my family now." He grasped her hand. "Among others."

"Don't try and charm me, Daniel Chalmers. You're not going to distract me from this."

"I'll tell you this much: My father was the younger son of a member of the peerage," he confessed. "As such, he had no hope of inheriting a title- and compounded that accident of birth by marrying a young woman that his father considered wholly unsuitable. A commoner. Not even an Englishwoman. She was Canadian. They met while my father was touring the family holdings there."

"Your mother?" Mildred asked.

Daniel nodded shortly, forcing himself to keep the anger at bay. "She died of influenza when I was six. After that, my father fell into a well of alcohol induced self pity. Disinherited by his father, a dead end job as a bartender that he hated-"

"A son that he ignored?" Mildred suggested.

"Most of the time," Daniel said. "He was killed trying to cross a street in a drunken stupor when I was ten."

"Oh my. So you- were all alone?"

"Not quite. My grandfather, in his infinite wisdom, finally took an interest in the grandson that he had heretofore ignored. Of course, his idea of taking care of me was to ship me off to school, and therefore out of his sight."

"And you got tossed out," Mildred recalled.

"Several times," Daniel recalled with a smile at last. "I lost track of the schools he sent me off to before finally washing his hands of me. Said he shouldn't have expected too much of someone with such common blood in his veins."

"The snob," Mildred snorted. Then her features turned serious. "But you didn't have to - I mean, why did you do that? Just to get back at your grandfather for some reason?"

Daniel's fingers tightened on the wine glass. "He ignored my father's request for help when my mother was ill. She might have lived if-"

Mildred reached out and placed her hand over his, stopping him from snapping the fragile crystal. "Let it go, Daniel," she said gently, and Daniel knew she wasn't just talking about the glass. "That's not your real name, is it?"

"I think we've had enough revelations for one night, don't you, my dear?" he asked, as their dinner arrived. "Does it really matter what my name is?" he asked when she attempted to speak again. "After all, a rose by any other name-" He picked up his fork. "The trout looks delicious, don't you think?"

***

Remington handed Laura her glass of wine, then sat down beside her on the sofa to look at the flickering flames in the fireplace. "you're quiet this evening," he pointed out.

"Just thinking."

"About Daniel?" Remington asked.

"No. About why you're embarrassed for people to know that we're- together."

"Embarrassed?" Remington questioned, staring at her. "Laura, what the devil are you talking about?"

"This afternoon," she reminded him. "In the elevator, remember?"

"Ah. The secretaries from that law firm. I never said that I was embarrassed, love."

Laura looked down at the glass in her hands. "Is it because I'm not- I mean, -"

Remington lifted her chin with gentle fingers until he could see her face. "You're not- what?"

"Tall, blonde, - " She made a vague movement with her hands and her eyes searched his. "Your- usual type."

Remington put his glass on the table, then took hers and placed it along side. "Laura, that was the old me. Before I discovered that my tastes have changed. For the better, I think. Thanks to your influence." He touched her cheek. "You're beautiful. No other woman could even come close." His lips met hers and he put his arms around her, pulling her close. "I was just worried that you might be upset by people in the building saying that you and I are- involved. Implying that the only reason -"

Laura's arms were around his neck. "Maybe I don't care anymore. Maybe I want the entire world to know that I'm in love with you."

"And to hell with what that can do to your hard fought struggle to remain independent? To prove that you're just as good detective as any man?"

"*WE* know the truth. That's all that matters, isn't it?"

Remington refused to allow her to pull his head down as he looked at her. "Is it? Are you certain that you're ready for clients to treat you as if you're simply a secretary? Or someone I keep around because we're- involved?"

"Most of them think that anyway," Laura pointed out. "As long as we maintain our professionalism in the office, they'll-"

Remington sighed. "Then let's take it one step farther, eh?" he suggested.

"What do you mean?"

"Marry me." He felt her withdrawal immediately, but refused to let her move away. "What's wrong? I thought you wanted everyone to know about us?"

"I do," Laura said. "But- marriage. Why risk messing up what we have right now?"

"I thought you always wanted proof of my commitment to you and our relationship."

"Proof, yes, but not necessarily marriage," Laura said slowly, picking up her glass. "Marriage doesn't guarantee that you'll still be here in ten years- or fifteen, or even twenty. It certainly didn't keep my parents together."

"Laura, how many times do you think I've asked a woman to marry me?" Remington asked.

She glanced at him, then back at her drink. "I- I've never thought about it, I suppose. Felicia-"

Remington shook his head, laughing softly. "Not likely. Felicia would have run like a scalded cat if I'd suggested such a thing. So would I, if truth be told."

Laura thought for a moment. "Anna?" she asked in a quiet voice that he had to strain to hear.

"No. I've never asked that question of any other woman except you." He turned her face toward his. "Do you want to know why?" When Laura didn't respond, Remington sighed and smiled at her. "Because I couldn't see myself spending the rest of my days with any of the women I've known. I was content to drift along, from woman to woman, because none of them could hold my attention for very long. But you're different. I'd never met anyone like you before I came here to steal the Royal Lavulite. Your honesty, your independence, your charm, all conspired to make me think- for the first time- that I had finally found a home, a place where I belonged." He took her hand and brought it to his chest.

"Marriage doesn't give any guarantees," Laura insisted.

"No," he admitted. "It doesn't. There are no guarantees. But marriage would be a symbol- an outward display of our intention to spend the rest of our lives together."

"I'm just not sure that marriage is- necessary at this moment," Laura said. "Can't we just- give it a little more time?" she pleaded with him, slipping her hand inside his unbuttoned shirt. "Enjoy just- being together?"

He pressed her hand over his heart, then lifted it. "Okay. But just remember that you hold my heart- right here," he said, pressing a kiss into her palm before closing her fingers over it. "And, believe it or not, it's rather fragile." Laura's eyes shone brightly. "Come on, Miss Holt," he said at last, standing and holding out his hand. "Let's go to bed."

***

Daniel smiled at the young nurse who showed him into the consultation room, but as soon as the door closed behind her, he moved restlessly to the window that overlooked the parking area, trying to shake off the feeling of worry that had kept him awake most of the night. Coming to Los Angeles had been a mistake. He had known that Harry would somehow find out about his illness. Now, he had to worry about Harry ferreting out his other secrets. Perhaps it would be best if he were to simply leave, before the proverbial other shoe dropped. No, that wouldn't work, either. Because Harry would follow him, unwilling to allow his former mentor to die alone. What he had told Mildred last night wasn't enough for her to find anything specific. But if she took that information back to Harry or Laura, the truth would come out. Or part of it, anyway. And from that, it was a short hop to the rest.

"Good morning, Mr. Chalmers," Dr. Becker said with a smile as he entered the consultation room. "How are we doing this morning?"

Daniel lifted an eyebrow at the question. "WE are as well as could be expected, I suppose, all things considered."

Becker indicated one of the chairs in the room as he sat down. "The test results gave me some important information. And I might have some good news for you."

Daniel noted with interest the cautious optimism in his doctor's eyes. "Indeed?"

"There's a new drug that's in testing right now. It's experimental, but I think I can get you in on the testing phase. If you're willing to take the chance."

He'd lived his entire life on chances, Daniel mused. Could he take one more?

***

A telephone rang in the business offices of the UCLA Medical Center, and was quickly answered by a young woman with a pile of folders in front of her. "Business office. This is Megan. Can I help you?"

"This is Miss Groggins of Vigilance Life and Medical- I'm calling in regards to one of our policy holders who's filed a claim for services rendered by the Medical Center."

"What's the patient's name?"

"Daniel Chalmers."

Megan typed the name into her computer. "What do you need to know, Miss Groggins?"

"I need to verify some information in his file- standard procedure. We've had some fraudulent claims lately and are following up on cases at random. I have February 20 as his birthdate-"

"You do?"

"What date did he give you?"

"Uh, March 5, 1926."

"Oh, that's right," Miss Groggins said with a self directed laugh. "I was reading the wrong line. February 20 is the date that Mr. Chalmers began coverage with us. They really need to change these forms, you know? Too many dates to close together."

Megan joined the laughter. "I know what you mean. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, I think that's enough. Thank you for your help." Mildred hung up the telephone and turned toward her own computer. Daniel's story of the previous evening hadn't been quite enough. At least she knew to concentrate on titled families in England, but she needed more. When Mr. Steele came in, she'd have a little more to tell him- if her computer would give up the information.

***

"The office, Fred," Remington said as they entered the limo.

Laura turned to look at him. "I thought we were going to Mr. Davis and have a look around?" she reminded him. "See if we can find what Daniel might be after."

Although Remington was 90% certain that Daniel's interest in Gerald Davis' collection was part of a ruse to help Laura, he knew that he had check it out, just on the off chance he was wrong.

"Change of plans, Fred," Remington said. "Gerald Davis' house."

To Be Continued . . .

---

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Original content ©2001 by Nancy Eddy