Song From the Sea (31 page)

“Oh, everything went from bad to worse,” he said, his mind playing back a myriad of distasteful scenes, but seeing no point in going into the details.

“Harold,” he said as if the word was a bad taste in his mouth, “was my real nightmare.”

“If he was anything like he is now, I can imagine.” Callie wrinkled her nose. “I suppose he was just a smaller version of himself: round, rude, and altogether insufferable.”

Adam had to smile. Callie had a wonderful way with words. “He was all of that and more. Harold's problem was that he didn't do anything very well except torment people. Nigel, Harold, and I shared a tutor. Nigel didn't like Harold any more than I did, and we both worked twice as hard at our lessons as we had to, just to show Harold up. Need I add that Harold was not known for his cleverness?”

“You need not. A few minutes in his ghastly company told me everything I needed to know about his lack of intelligence.”

“Exactly. Harold thought it a particularly good idea to tell his parents whenever I, usually with Nigel's help, had done something forbidden.”

“Forbidden?”

“Oh, nothing serious, just the usual sorts of silly things that young boys get up to, but Nigel and I came up with ways to torture Harold in return for my punishments. We did a very good job, if I do say so myself.”

Callie beamed. “I'm so glad. And I'm so glad you had Nigel. Did he live at Stanton with you?”

“No, but he might as well have, given the amount of time he spent here. Nigel's family lives not too far from here, so he would ride over nearly every day. He came for the lessons, but he stayed to make mischief with me. We learned everything together, Nigel and I,” he said with a fond smile. “My father taught us to ride and fish and shoot, and he taught us about sailing and the sea. Those were good years.”

“And the later years?” Callie asked. “When you were older, I mean. Were you sent off to school?”

Adam nodded. “We both went to Eton—I found it a blessing to be away from my uncle and aunt for long periods of the year, but Harold, naturally, had to come along to school with us, so I never really escaped his presence until he left two years before we did. While he was there, he used his seniority to make life hell. There's a pecking order, you see, and younger boys are subjected to all sorts of ragging from the elder ones. Harold—well, let's just say that Harold took advantage of every opportunity.”

Adam paused as a knock came at the door and Gettis brought in the tea tray, setting it down on the table between them. “Will there be anything else, my lord?”

“No, thank you,” Adam replied. “This will do nicely. Callie, help yourself. In any case,” he continued, picking up a crab patty, “Harold wasn't well liked at school. He was no good at games, he continued to be an indifferent student, and he didn't make friends easily. Why he decided that was my fault, I don't know, but he seemed to think that I used my title to turn people against him, an idiotic notion.”

Callie shuddered as she poured the tea. “He sounds more dreadful by the moment, and something tells me that you're giving me the expurgated version of the story.”

Adam laughed as took his cup from her. “Perhaps I am, but I think you have the general idea. To finish up, Harold went off to Cambridge, where he was sent down after a year. His parents sent him to live in my house in London— did I tell you I have a town house in London? You'll like it, I think. It's on Grovesnor Square.”

“I'm sure I will,” Callie said, nibbling on a chicken sandwich, looking not the least bit interested in his fine piece of property. “But what about Harold? What did he get up to in London?”

“Everything you can imagine. He was supposed to be meeting eligible young heiresses, but instead he got into gaming and betting on the horses and doing a great deal of carousing. He ran up an amazing amount of debt, which, I discovered when I took over my own affairs, had been steadily paid off by Uncle Geoffrey from my funds, which he was overseeing as my guardian.”

Callie gasped. “But that's shocking! Isn't that illegal?”

“Indeed it is, and I imagine I could have caused a great deal of trouble, but I decided to evict them from Stanton instead. Uncle Geoffrey had been siphoning off money for much more than Harold's gambling debts, as he'd made a great hash out of his own inheritance. He'd also made a great hash out of running Stanton.”

Callie mutely shook her head. “You must have been truly livid when you discovered all this,” she said after a moment.

“I was extremely annoyed, yes. I'd just finished my time up at Oxford, so I came directly to Stanton to live full time. I removed the old steward and installed Nigel in his place, for Nigel knew every nook and cranny of Stanton, and I knew I need never doubt his loyalty. Anyway, farming's in his blood. Together we put the place to rights as it was in my father's time, and it's run like clockwork ever since.”

“And then you married and you were finally happy,” Callie said, looking down into her cup.

“And then I married and I was finally happy,” Adam agreed, thinking for the thousandth time how fleeting and cruel happiness could be. Still, those days had been good, and he found to his surprise that he didn't really mind talking about them. “Caroline was shy,” he said with a soft smile, remembering how difficult she'd found being mistress of Stanton at first, not accustomed to giving orders or making decisions on her own. “She was young, and she'd been brought up in a sheltered environment, so she was a little taken aback by all the things that happen on a working estate.” He chuckled. “The first time she saw a bull mate a cow I thought she was going to keel over in shock. I had to support her all the way back to the house.”

“It sounds as if she had a very sweet nature,” Callie said, still gazing into her teacup, and Adam suddenly realized that Callie felt uncomfortable.

“She had a very sweet nature indeed,” he said, wondering how to put Callie at ease. He supposed that it was natural for her to feel disconcerted, listening to him talk about his first wife, but he didn't want the subject of Caroline to be a source of discomfort for her any more than he wanted the memory of Caroline to stand between them like a great, unanswered question, for that would only make Callie unhappy. “She was very different from you,” he said gently. “She was a self-contained woman, not given to freely expressing her emotions. She disliked any sort of conflict, would avoid it any way she could. Sometimes I felt as if I were pulling teeth to get her to tell me what was on her mind.”

“But you like that—someone who's peaceful and doesn't aggravate you all the time.”

Adam considered. “Caroline was like a drink of clear, soothing water after all the turbulence of the years I spent living with my relatives, when there wasn't a peaceful moment to be had. But if you mean that you think you aggravate me, let me put your mind at rest. I enjoy the stimulation of someone who isn't afraid to match me word for word, someone who takes a position and passionately sticks with it from sheer courage of conviction. You do that, Callie, and I don't think I've ever known anyone like you. You don't defer to me—anything but—and I know I can trust you to tell me exactly what you think.” He laughed. “You'll tell me whether I want to hear it or not, and I find that refreshing.”

“Do you really mean that, or are you just trying to make me feel better?” she asked, regarding him anxiously, as if his answer meant everything in the world to her.

“I really mean it,” he said. “You mustn't worry that you are so different to Caroline, if that's what is troubling you. Those days are gone, and you and I will find a different way together, that's all.” He had no idea what that way would be. How many different ways did he know how to live? He hadn't managed to do a very good job of living at all, not since Ian and Caroline had been taken from him. But now that he had decided to go on without them, he supposed he would have to apply himself to the job, if just for Callie's sake. That was only fair, given that she was going to have to settle for a life without her precious ideal of romantic love.

“Thank you for telling me,” Callie said, the corners of her mouth beginning to tremble. “I needed to hear that.”

He abruptly put his cup down on the tray and moved over to sit next to her, taking her cup and placing it next to his. “Have you been worrying, Callie? If you have, it's my fault, for I should have put your mind at rest before this. You are a desirable and beautiful woman, and I thought you understood that I found you those things. Perhaps, being a man, I didn't let you know in an adequate fashion, and for that I apologize.”

Callie turned her face away. “I only want you to be happy, Adam,” she said, her voice muffled. “I thought that maybe I wasn't enough of a lady to make you a proper wife, that I might have said or done things I oughtn't, or omitted to say and do things I should have.”

Adam turned her face toward him with one finger. “What's all this about being a lady?” he said, genuinely astonished. “I haven't the first regard for that sort of behavior. I had enough of it in the drawing rooms of London, believe me, where people never say what they mean and rarely behave according to the standards they so smugly hold up to the rest of the world. Let us have no more talk of that, for I couldn't bear it if you turned yourself into the sort of woman who thinks so highly and so completely of herself that she hasn't the time to think of anyone or anything else.” He dropped his hand and took her by the shoulder. “A true lady thinks of others before herself, and doesn't behave as if she's better than everyone else around her. In that, you are exemplary.”

“Really, Adam?” she said, gazing up at him, looking thoroughly shaken but infinitely relieved.

“Really. I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true. You will make a perfect mistress for Stanton. The servants already think you walk on water, in case you haven't noticed. I've been feeling a tad put out that they don't treat me with the same adoration. Deference, perhaps, but then I pay their wages. But adoration? Definitely not.”

Callie sniffled, and he immediately produced a handkerchief for her use. He never knew when she was going to produce tears, but he'd learned to be prepared.

“I think you're wonderful,” she said, her voice trembling. She took his handkerchief and wiped her eyes.

“I was under the impression that you thought me a heartless wretch,” he said, taking the handkerchief back from her and running it under her sweet little nose for good measure. That was usually the next thing to start dripping.

“You are anything but heartless, and you're certainly not a wretch,” she said indignantly. “Except when you mean to be, but I generally know the reason. It's just that these last ten days you've been so distant, and so I thought that maybe you weren't so happy about marrying me after all, and that you regretted asking me. And then I thought that was because I wasn't anything like Caroline and that I'd behaved very badly in bed by being too enthusiastic, but Nellie said that wasn't the problem, that it was a
good
thing to be enthusiastic.”

Adam listened to this torrent of confession in disbelief, but when she came to the part about Nellie, he sat straight up. “You told Nellie Bishop about—about that?” he said in a strangled voice.

“Of course I did. Who else could I ask? She was very sensible and she wasn't in the least bit shocked, and you needn't worry, because she won't tell anyone. I had to talk to someone, Adam, because I was so confused, and Nellie's my friend.”

“You might have come to me,” he said, feeling a little put out, but recognizing at the same time that he hadn't exactly given her a chance. “Er, what exactly did Nellie say to you?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

“She said that men don't want to have a woman lying under them behaving as if they have something better to do.”

Adam couldn't help himself. He threw his head back and roared with laughter. He laughed so hard he thought his sides might split. “Ah—ah, Callie,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath without much success. “That's—that's perfect. I think I'd like to meet your friend Nellie. She sounds as refreshing as you are.” He burst into laughter again. “Well, just so you know, Nellie is exactly right,” he said, making an attempt to sober. “It is a very good thing to be enthusiastic, and you have no problem with enthusiasm, trust me. The day you start behaving as if you have something better to do will be the day that I will begin to think you've tired of me and taken a lover.”

“I would
never
do such a thing,” Callie said, punching his arm, which he really should have expected, since she seemed to punch him without reservation whenever she was offended by something he'd said.

“That's very good.” Adam rubbed his hand over his bruised muscle with a wince, although he had to admire her. Callie had a powerful fist. “I won't be taking any lovers, either. I have a feeling I'm going to have my hands full until the day I'm carted off in my coffin, and you, madam, are going to be either so exhausted that you expire with me or die shortly thereafter from lack of attention.”

“Oh, well,” Callie said, grinning. “I don't know about that. Should you die before me, I might then consider taking a lover. Now that I've had a taste of physical bliss, I'm not sure I would care to go without it.”

Adam collapsed against the back of the sofa, taking her with her. He turned and covered her face with kisses that he'd longed to give her, then took her sweet, soft lips beneath his own, kissing her until they were both breathless.

He didn't hear the knock or the door opening until it was too late.

“Sir Reginald Barnswell has arrived, my lord,” Gettis announced.

Without any further ado, Sir Reginald walked straight into the room.

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