Song From the Sea (17 page)

“I—I don't know if I should say,” Nellie said, suddenly looking acutely uncomfortable. “I don't want to go talking out of turn if his lordship doesn't want his business known, but it's not a secret, I suppose. I mean, everyone knows what happened.”

“For heaven's sake, just tell me, Nellie!” Callie felt as if she were about to jump out of her skin with impatience.

“Well … you did know his lordship was married?” Nellie fiddled with her plate, turning it round and round in her fingers

Callie stared at her, the color draining from her face. “Married? I—I had no idea.” She didn't know why the news hit her like a hard blow in the soft pit of her belly. Adam, married? The thought had never crossed her mind that he might have a wife. The stew suddenly felt like a lump of lead in her stomach. “But if he's married, where is his wife? No one's said a word about her, and there isn't a single sign of a mistress about the house.”

“You misunderstand me,” Nellie said gently, regarding Callie curiously. “I meant that he was married once. His wife was killed two years ago, and their little boy with her. The poor lad was only four.”

Stunned, Callie could think of nothing to say. She found drawing breath difficult enough. “H—how were they killed?” she finally managed to stammer.

“It was an accident, a terrible tragedy, or at least that was the verdict at the inquest. A poacher must have been in the woods and fired his gun believing he was aiming at a deer, not realizing that her ladyship and the child were out walking. Whoever fired the gun never was found—he must have taken off as soon as he realized what had happened and hardly surprising, for he'd have hanged for the offense, accident or no.” Nellie shook her head. “His lordship was beside himself with grief. He doted on his family, and to have them taken from him so cruelly nearly undid him, they say.” She sighed heavily. “I've heard it said that a broken heart can take some like that.”

“The poor man,” Callie whispered. “How unspeakably horrible for him.” She could barely conceive of the pain he must have suffered—must still be suffering. No wonder she sometimes caught that bleak expression in his eyes when he thought no one was watching.

“It was that,” Nellie said, her gaze steadily fixed on Callie's face. “Anyway, they say he changed overnight—cut the world off, refused to see anyone. No one up at the house was allowed to mention his wife or son's name, as if they'd never existed. They say he never set foot again in the family chapel where the poor souls are interred, not even once to pay his respects.”

“I'm sure he doesn't stay away from lack of love,” Callie murmured, her heart aching for Adam. “Pain is sometimes too acute to let in even the smallest reminder,”

“Well, that must be why he still doesn't want them mentioned, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you haven't heard anything about it. His lordship's staff is loyal as they come, and they wouldn't go against his wishes. But maybe now you see why I think it's interesting that his lordship bothered to take an interest in you, when he hasn't taken an interest in anything else for so long.”

“I wouldn't say he's taken an interest in me, exactly,” Callie said. “I'm just an inconvenience he feels obliged to house for the moment.”

“Humph,” Nellie said. “Maybe so and maybe not, but from what you've been telling me, he doesn't sound like the same man who could barely be bothered to give anyone the time of day only a few weeks ago. Not that he ever neglected Stanton or his tenants, mind you,” she added loyally. “Not a soul could fault him there—He knows his duty, his lordship does, no matter how heavily his personal troubles weigh on him.”

Leaning her elbow on the table, Callie rested her chin on her folded fingers and considered. She was having a hard time reconciling the Adam she knew with the man Nellie had just been describing, although when she ran back in time to her first meetings with him, he had seemed much colder and far more distant to her. She'd assumed that was because he'd been annoyed with her in the extreme for forcing him to rescue her, not to mention her refusal to be more forthcoming with him.

Looking at the situation from this new perspective, though, she could easily put a different interpretation on it. She had invaded his sanctuary, been an unwelcome intruder in his retreat from the world. He had surrounded himself by high walls, built not of stone but of something even more impenetrable. The determination of the human will was a powerful force, and Adam had used his will to shut out all emotion and protect himself from unbearable suffering.

There was only one very large problem with that line of defense: He'd never heal unless he learned to face his pain and accept his loss.

She knew that as clearly as she knew anything, which wasn't saying much, but in her heart she felt the truth, and her heart was the best compass she had to guide her.

“Good heavens!” she said, suddenly realizing with alarm how much time had passed. “I must be going or Mrs. Simpson will get into a terrible fluster wondering what's happened to me,” she said, standing. “Thank you for listening to me, Nellie, and thank you also for being so direct with me. I am grateful to have a new friend.”

Nellie's tired face lit up with a smile. “I'm happy for it too,” she said. “My door is always open to you, Callie, anytime you care to come through it. You just remember that I have a curiosity to match your own and I'll be wanting to know how things are coming along for you—and anything you care to tell me stays strictly between us.”

“It had better, or I really
will
find myself packed off to an asylum,” Callie said with a light laugh as she walked to the door. “Oh, before I forget …” She quickly rattled off Mrs. Simpson's instructions regarding the contents of the basket. “I shouldn't pay them too much mind, but I thought I'd better tell you in case she asks,” Callie added. “Georgie will be just fine once those molars emerge.”

“Aye, and wouldn't it be nice if your memory was so obliging?” Nellie said, chuckling as she waved good-bye.

The sun slanted from the west as Callie started back, and she walked as quickly as she could, knowing the time had to be past four, which meant she'd already been gone nearly two hours. Mrs. Simpson would be expecting her by now, and Callie still had close to forty minutes to go before she reached Stanton Abbey.

The last thing Callie wanted was for anyone to be alarmed at her absence, and if by some unlucky chance Adam returned to Stanton before she did and found her gone, she'd be in certain trouble for having left without his appointed shadows. Worse, Henry and Michael would be in for a real earful that they didn't deserve.

Ten minutes later Callie stopped. She could see the abbey in the distance, but if she stayed on the winding road she'd be adding an extra three miles or so to her journey. It would be much more sensible, she decided, to cut directly across the fields and make a beeline for home, saving a good half hour. Mrs. Simpson might be worried about bulls, but Mrs. Simpson needn't know that Callie had taken a shortcut. In any case, the fields would be far less dusty than the road, and she knew from listening to Nigel and Adam that most of the land on this side was still in grass.

She turned to the left and climbed easily over the wooden fence that bordered the road. The meadow felt lovely and soft beneath her feet and she hummed as she walked, reveling in the sweet air and the scent of wildflowers. In the distance a herd of cows grazed, and farther to the south she could just make out the faint screech of seagulls circling over the cliffs.

The next fence she came to had a convenient gate built into the far right, and she opened it easily, careful to close and latch it behind her. Ten minutes more and she'd be safely ensconced in the kitchen with a cup of tea and maybe even some rock cakes, if Cook had been baking. Adam would never know she'd been gone.

Adam … she still couldn't absorb the enormity of what Nellie had told her, and she felt vaguely guilty, as if she had made herself privy to a deeply personal tragedy that had nothing to do with her. And yet knowing about his terrible loss gave her a deeper insight into his character that she hadn't had before, and that had to be to the good—or was it? She wasn't entirely sure.

At least now she knew which subjects to avoid, since Adam obviously didn't want any reminders of his loss. Just getting through each day without his wife and child must serve as reminder enough. She really couldn't imagine what the last two years must have been like for him, but if what Nellie said was true, and Callie had no reason to doubt her, Adam had shut himself away with his grief and, Adam being Adam, had refused to let anyone help.

He really was impossibly stubborn.

Then again, so was she, and since she owed Adam a very great deal, the least she could do with the time she had left at Stanton was to help him to see that life was for living, whether he cared to be shown or not.

She wasn't exactly sure how she was going to go about her mission, but she felt confident that something would come to her. Maybe he just needed to be taken out and shaken like a rug that had been sitting about collecting dust.

Callie couldn't help smiling. Somehow she didn't think Adam would appreciate a good shaking. She was absolutely sure he wouldn't appreciate her poking into his business any more than she appreciated his poking into hers—and there was a point.

She really didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to keeping secrets or being evasive. For all she knew she had a terrible tragedy in her past and she just didn't remember how grief-stricken she was. It was one thing to suffer the loss of two people you loved to distraction, and quite another not to remember loving anyone at all.

At least Adam had his memories. Despite the pain it had later brought him, he'd loved his wife and child dearly. She would give anything to know love, even if it was just a memory. She would give anything just to belong somewhere, to someone.

But you do know love
, a voice whispered, as soft as a breeze on her cheek.

Callie came to an abrupt halt, looking around her. She was alone, and yet she'd heard the voice clear as day.

Look, Callie, look deep
, the whisper said again.
Open your heart and look at what it holds.

Callie rubbed her eyes, thinking that she really had lost her mind. Now she was hearing voices that didn't exist.

Listen to your heart, child. Only your heart can show you where you belong…
The whisper faded away until it became no more than the light rustle of leaves in the treetops.

Shaken to her core, Callie sank to the ground. She had no explanation for what had just happened to her, only that she'd felt filled with an overwhelming sense of warmth and peace, as if she'd been enfolded in gentle, invisible, but loving arms. That love still resonated in her heart like a chord that had been struck in perfect harmony, shattering the protective shell she'd built around it and leaving her exposed and very, very vulnerable. Yet at the same time she felt completely and vibrantly alive, as if an essential part of her had been sleeping and was now waking, like a flower opening up to the sun and its warmth after a long winter's rest.

Why then did she suddenly also feel as if she'd just lost her best friend?

She realized that tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she reached up trembling fingers to wipe them away.

Callie!

She vaguely registered hearing her name again from somewhere in the distance, and she cautiously peeped up at the sky from between her fingers, wondering if she was next going to see a host of angels floating overhead with harps and trumpets and … and drums. She didn't know if angels played drums, but she distinctly heard a rhythmic beating coming closer.

Only moments later very human, very strong arms grasped her from behind and pulled her around, crushing her against soft material that smelled distinctly of crisp linen and sunshine and … Adam.

“Thank heaven I found you!” he said, his voice muffled in her hair. “Are you hurt? What happened? Did you fall?”

She managed to pull back from his tight grasp and look up into his face, incredibly happy to see him, solid and real and looking scared half out of his wits.

“I'm perfectly well,” she said, trying to collect her thoughts without much success, too many emotions cascading through her to make sense of them all. “I just—I— um …” She couldn't tell him about the voice without his thinking her completely mad. “I sat down for a little rest.”

“I don't believe you. You've been crying,” he said, the two faint lines between his brows deepening as he lightly touched her wet cheek with his fingers.

“Don't be absurd. I never cry,” she said, blinking rapidly.

“Callie, tell me the truth—are you in pain?” He leaned back and quickly looked her up and down as if making sure that she still had all her limbs in the right places. “Is it your head that hurts?”

She gazed at him, thinking that he looked just like he had the very first time she'd seen him—Saint George, the valiant fighter, his eyes blazing sapphire and trained on her with a fierce, concerned concentration. “My head?” she said, thinking her head had never felt clearer. “No …my head is fine.” Her heart was another matter. It was beating so hard it felt as if it might burst out of her chest and she took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady it. “My head is fine, I'm fine. Everything is fine, Adam.” She smiled at him foolishly. “What are you doing out here?”

“What am I—The question is what the devil are you doing sitting in the middle of a field, on your own and at this hour?” he said, his voice rising to a near-shout as if now, satisfied that she'd come to no harm, he was going to take her to pieces himself. “Do you have any idea how worried I've been?”

“Do you mean you came looking for me?” she said in bemusement, but delighted that he had.

“Yes, I came looking for you,” he said with exasperation. “I was
not
very pleased to return home only to discover that you had gone marching off all the way to Hythe hours ago—and by yourself, of all idiotic things. Anything might have happened, Callie, did you think of that? By God, when I saw you suddenly go down like that, I thought—I thought you must have hurt yourself.” His mouth formed a grim line.