Song From the Sea (32 page)

T
hinking she would die of mortification, Callie jumped to her feet, blushing furiously and straightening her disheveled dress. Adam calmly stood and walked across the library, his hand outstretched to greet Sir Reginald.

“You made excellent time,” Adam said, not sounding the least flustered that he'd just been caught in a passionate embrace; Callie had to admire his aplomb. “I only received your letter this afternoon. Welcome to Stanton Abbey. Your reputation precedes you.”

“Thank you,” Sir Reginald said. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I, er, I hope I did not arrive at an inconvenient time.” He passed a hand over his shiny scalp.

“Not in the least,” Adam said smoothly. “I think you for coming with such alacrity. As you can imagine, Miss Melbourne has questions that she is anxious to have answered.” He brought Sir Reginald over to Callie. “Allow me to introduce my fiancée, although you must have gathered quite quickly that this is Miss Melbourne.”

“Sir Reginald,” Callie said, blushing even more furiously as she dropped a curtsy and offered him her hand.

“Miss Melbourne,” he said, regarding her gravely, but his eyes, beneath a bushy pair of gray eyebrows, held warmth. “I have long wanted to meet you. Your father wrote last autumn that you would be coming to England at some point soon. Actually, he wrote to me periodically over the years, keeping me informed about his activities, and yours. He was very proud of you.”

“Was he?” Callie said, longing to hear more about her father and the life she'd shared with him. She felt slightly overwhelmed, but filled with joy at the same time. Here at last was someone who could actually tell her something about her past, and that alone gave her a sense of connection to Sir Reginald.

“He was indeed. I gather that you are a very well educated and well traveled young woman with many talents.”

“I—I confess that I don't really know,” Callie said, feeling foolish. “I believe Adam—Lord Vale, that is—informed you that my memory is impaired.”

“Lord Vale told a most extraordinary story in his letter. I experienced deep alarm when I read it. Forgive me for being so familiar, but your father was a most gifted correspondent and his letters came alive to the reader. I feel as if I've known you since you were a very small child and couldn't help an avuncular fear, given the nature of your accident and the injury you suffered.”

“Thank you for your concern, but as you can see, I am perfectly well, save for my inability to remember much of anything before I fell.”

“Shall we sit down?” Adam said. “We have much to discuss. May I offer you some refreshment, Sir Reginald? We have just had tea, but perhaps you would care for something a little stronger.”

“I would be grateful. I am not accustomed to traveling at such a speed, but I felt an urgent need to reassure myself that Miss Melbourne was not only in good hands, but also in good health.” He settled his bulk in one of the armchairs with a contented sigh.

Before Adam even had a chance to ask, Gettis appeared with one of the footmen. Between them they whisked away the tea tray, replaced it with another tray containing sherry and biscuits, and vanished as silently as they'd come.

“I imagine,” Sir Reginald said, taking a sip of sherry with an expression of pure pleasure, “that you will first want to know the details of your father's will, Miss Melbourne. He mentioned in his last letter that he had made an agreement with Lord Geoffrey Carlyle. The terms went thusly: that should you and Mr. Harold Carlyle wish to marry after a period of acquaintance, your inheritance would pass to Mr. Carlyle. Your father did not, however, make any binding provision that you inherit based on that particular marriage, stipulating only that your money be given into your hus-band's keeping whenever you did choose to marry. If you do not choose to marry, your money remains yours to do with as you wish. That sum, which your father invested wisely, is now approximately fifty thousand pounds.”

Adam choked on his biscuit. “Fifty
thousand
pounds?”

“That is correct. It is not a sum to be taken lightly.”

“Tell me, Sir Reginald,” Adam said, recovering his equilibrium, “was Lord Geoffrey aware of the amount of Callie's inheritance?”

“Yes, he was,” Sir Reginald said shortly.

“Well, well,” Adam said with a slight smile. “No wonder Harold and Mildred were in such a state when they realized that Callie and her money had slipped through their fingers. Is there anything else we should know?”

Sir Reginald inclined his head toward Callie. “That is the gist of the will. In other words, Miss Melbourne, you are free to marry whom you please. You are under no legal obligation to marry Mr. Carlyle, whatever he might have led you to believe. You are under no obligation to marry at all. You are a very well-off woman in your own right.”

Adam shot her a broad smile. “What did I tell you, Callie? Harold has no claim on you, and never did. I, on the other hand, have a very serious claim that I intend to exact as soon as humanly possible, and it has nothing to do with your fifty thousand pounds.”

“I think I'll exact my claim on you as well,” Callie said, lightheaded with relief. “And I give you the fifty thousand pounds with the greatest of pleasure, for I'm sure I don't know what I'd do with such a sum.”

“You can try to give me the fifty thousand, sweetheart, but you won't have much success, for I intend to ask Sir Reginald to keep it in a trust for you and our children.”

Callie's heart nearly stopped. Adam had mentioned children, and he'd mentioned them as naturally as if he'd been talking about the weather. But then children were a natural consequence of lovemaking, and as he had just assured her that he planned to do plenty of that, maybe he was being practical again.

Sir Reginald took another sip of sherry, ate a biscuit, and nodded with satisfaction. “I confess that I also came down to Stanton to be certain in my own mind that you, Miss Melbourne, had not chosen to marry Lord Vale simply because you felt alone in the world and frightened, given your loss of memory, but I believe I have seen that is not the case.”

“It is not,” Callie said. “I am marrying Lord Vale of my own free will and because I—” She'd nearly said “because I love him with every fiber of my being,” but stopped herself just in time. “Because I think we will have a full life together.” She glanced over at Adam, who regarded her with a quizzical expression, as if he'd expected her to say something very different. “I might not remember my past,” she added, “but that doesn't mean that I cannot create a bright and happy future.”

“Well said,” Sir Reginald replied in a gruff voice. “In that case, I give the marriage my blessing. You don't legally need it, as you have reached your majority, but I'd like to think that I may act in loco parentis. I believe your father would have been happy with the match.”

“Sir Reginald,” Callie said, “have you any idea why my father would have wanted me to marry Harold Carlyle in the first place? Lady Geoffrey said that my father and her husband were old friends, but my father couldn't possibly have known what sort of man he really was, or how awful his wife and son are.”

“I can tell you that your father and Lord Geoffrey were at university together. I can also tell you that your father never returned to England once he'd taken you and your mother to Italy. Your mother suffered from ill health, you see, and could not tolerate the English climate.”

“I don't suppose,” Adam said, his lips twitching with amusement, “that they lived in Ravello for some years?”

“How on earth did you know that?” Sir Reginald asked. “Yes, they lived in Ravello until Mrs. Melbourne died seven years later. At that time, Mr. Melbourne, who was heartbroken by the loss of his wife, took his eight-year-old daughter and moved to the island of Corfu, where they settled in a villa called Kaloroziko.”

“Kaloroziko,” Callie said softly. “It means ‘good roots. ’

The villa was Italian in style, and had a high white wall with scarlet bougainvillea tumbling over it.”

They both looked at her in surprise. “I sometimes remember images,” she said. “That was the first image I had after I woke up. Did we live there from then on?”

“Yes. Your father, who was an accomplished botanist, used it as his base, making his travels from there and nearly always taking you with him. You have visited many interesting places, Miss Melbourne. Your father came to rely on you as his assistant.”

She nodded. “You've explained so many things—why I seem to know about plants and how to use them for healing, for example, and why languages like Italian and Greek come so easily to mind.”

“Your father made every effort to educate you as fully as he could, but he wrote that you were a natural linguist and picked up languages as easily as if they had all been whispered to you by the angels at your birth. I know that sounds fanciful, but your father was like that, a man of deep spirituality who took what he learned from various cultures and religions and applied them to his own life. He also once mentioned—and forgive me if this sounds odd—but he said that you had an extraordinary ability to communicate with God's creatures, that they never showed any fear around you, or you around them. I was curious about that.”

“The gull, Callie,” Adam said quietly. “And then the swans and the bees.”

“Yes,” she said. “I know. I suppose it does seem a curious talent, but it's as natural to me as breathing. My father sounds as if he was a fascinating man.”

“He was one of the most unique men I have had the privilege to know. You have much of him in you.”

Callie, deeply touched, blushed. “Thank you, Sir Reginald.

I would like to think so, for I believe that we carry the legacy of those we loved inside us, that it connects us to them forever, even after they are gone. Would you mind telling me how he died? I know only that he became ill.”

“Yes. He developed a tumor of the brain. I know nothing more, as the last communication I had from him was the letter I told you about. He wanted to put his affairs in order while he still could, for he knew he didn't have much time left to him. And to answer your earlier question, he made the arrangement with Lord Geoffrey to put his mind at ease about your future. He loved you very much and was concerned about your being left alone and far away from the land of your birth.”

“Given what you have told us about Mr. Melbourne, I cannot believe that he knew anything at all about Harold Carlyle's true nature or reputation,” Adam said. “If anything makes sense, it is that my uncle likely painted a completely false picture of his son, not to mention his own financial position. Mr. Melbourne would have had no reason to doubt his friend's word, would he?”

“That is a logical supposition. I cannot say that I was happy with his plan, but given what I knew of Miss Melbourne, I hoped that once she met Mr. Carlyle she would discover that he didn't suit her.”

Callie couldn't help smiling. “You were correct. From the moment Mr. Carlyle and his mother accosted me in the street I felt very sure that neither of them suited me in any regard. You have put my mind at rest in many ways, Sir Reginald, and I thank you for your candor.”

“Not at all, but if I might continue to be candid, may I ask if you have acquired the special license, Lord Vale? Although you cannot be faulted in any regard for keeping Miss Melbourne here at Stanton—”

“The sooner we are married, the better,” Adam finished for him. “I am aware of the need for haste, and as it happens, the license arrived today.”

“Excellent. I am not one to hold with gossip, but you know the damage wagging tongues can do.”

“Having lived with wagging tongues in the form of my aunt and cousin, and for too many years, I do know full well. Furthermore, if tongues are going to wag, they are sure to come from that quarter. I would be honored if you would act as witness at our wedding, Sir Reginald. You are as close to family as Miss Melbourne has, discounting Lord Fellowes, of course, but he doesn't know her as you do, even if you only know her through her father's letters.”

“I would be honored,” Sir Reginald said, looking terribly pleased. “What a delightful idea. Shall we say this evening, if it's not inconvenient and you can arrange for the vicar? I'm afraid that I must start my journey back to London tomorrow, for I have to appear in court at the end of the week.”

“Callie?” Adam said, turning to her. “Is this evening too soon?”

The next minute wouldn't be too soon as far as Callie was concerned. She wanted to be Adam's wife more than anything in the world, and now that they knew for certain no impediment to their marriage existed, she was fully ready. “How quickly can you organize the vicar?” she asked, her heart thumping with excitement.

Adam grinned at her, his eyes the color of the summer sky and just as bright. “Give me an hour or so. He shouldn't take too long to persuade. The butler will show you to your room, Sir Reginald. You, Callie, will want to prepare yourself. I'm off to the vicarage, and I'll be back before you know I've gone.”

He was as good as his word. Callie had just enough time to wash, change her dress, and let Jane dress her hair.

“It's so exciting, miss,” Jane said, cleverly weaving in roses and baby's breath that Roberts had produced from the garden. “I'm sure you're as lovely a bride as ever was, even if you didn't have time to manage a proper wedding dress. I think the pale green ever so becoming on you, and his lordship's eyes will light up when he sees you, for you have roses in your cheeks every bit as pink as the ones in your hair. Just so you know, Cook is flying around the kitchen organizing a dinner worthy of the great occasion, Mrs. Simpson is already in floods of happy tears and seeing to the linens, and Mr. Gettis is instructing the footmen on what he expects from them, my Michael included.” She paused only to draw breath. “I'm to be wed soon, too, miss. I think you and his lordship's happiness must have put ideas into Michael's head, for he asked me just the other day and I was that thrilled to accept him.”

“That's wonderful, Jane,” Callie said, only barely hearing her, preoccupied with her own imminent nuptials and the upcoming prospect of her wedding night, which was just as exciting to contemplate. She couldn't wait to be back in Adam's arms where she belonged. “Oh!” she said as Jane's words finally sank in. “That's the best of news! I'm very happy for you both.”