Chapter Sixteen I Do Not Want to Be Set Free #2
"Ownership. That's exactly the word." He laughed again.
"I never could care for her that way, though heaven knows I tried, once, when everyone kept telling me it was time I settled down.
But the thought of having her around permanently was — unbearable, honestly.
The plain truth is, you're the only woman who's ever actually held my heart.
I didn't even know what I was missing until now.
This — whatever this is, this gift of loving you — it's worth more than anything else life's ever handed me.
And that it came to me this way, entirely unplanned, unlooked for — it feels almost too good to be real. "
He drew her close again, drinking in her face as though he could never quite get enough of it.
"And to think you're actually willing to be my wife." He folded his arms around her once more.
A discreet knock announced Henry's return, and Graham collected himself enough to remember lunch needed ordering.
He opened the door with an unguarded, happy smile. "Come in a moment, Henry. This is my wife. I'd like you to look after her wishes from now on exactly as faithfully as you've always looked after mine."
Henry's whole face lit with genuine pleasure as he bowed to Calie. "That's wonderful news, sir — my warmest congratulations to you both. You won't find a finer man anywhere than Mr. Graham, ma'am. I couldn't be happier for you both."
Lunch arrived in Henry's finest style, silver and china set with quiet, practiced care, his face glowing with unmistakable approval every time his glance fell on the new lady of the house. Calie stood by the window holding the small miniature, asking soft questions.
"This is your mother? How lovely she was. And she died so young — you never even knew her?"
She reached for his hand in the shelter of the deep window alcove, and though they both assumed Henry hadn't noticed, he had — and simply busied himself with the salt cellars and celery, smiling privately to himself, before slipping out to the florist next door and returning with a dozen white roses arranged in a small crystal pitcher — one of the very few things Graham still owned that had belonged to his mother, and which had, until that moment, never once held flowers.
?
It was after lunch, once Henry had cleared away and gone, that Graham said, "I wonder what's become of Gregory Hostetler. Do you think he means to make trouble?"
Calie's hands flew to her throat.
"Oh! I'd completely forgotten him. He'll do something, surely — he'll carry out every threat he ever made, I'm certain of it. Mother might already be frantic. What can we possibly do?"
"Don't be frightened," Graham said gently, drawing her close.
"He can't do anything truly dangerous, and if he tries, we'll silence him fast enough.
What he wrote you was blackmail, plain and simple — a crime, not just cruelty — and he's nothing more than a coward who'll run the instant he's exposed.
He counted on you not knowing enough law to fight back. I promise you, I can handle him."
"Do you truly think so? But Mother — oh, it could kill her, if he says the wrong thing to her directly. He's capable of anything when he's crossed. I've known him too long to doubt that."
"We should call your mother right now, and put her mind at ease before anything else. It was thoughtless of me not to do it the moment we got here. Besides, I want to ask your brother if he knows whether the wedding license has been mailed in yet.”
Calie's whole face brightened. "Oh, of course — why didn't I think of it sooner! What a wonderful thing the telephone is."
They went to the phone table together.
"Shall I place the call, or you?" he asked.
"You call first," she said, eyes shining, "and then I'll speak to Mother. I want her to hear your voice again — she'll know at once that everything's truly all right, just from hearing you."
"And how do you account for the fact that you didn't believe I was all right yesterday afternoon? I used that very voice to the best of my ability, and it did precisely nothing for me then."
"That was entirely different — there were the letters to account for. Mother and Jeff don't know a single thing about those."
"And what will you tell them now?"
She considered this a moment, brow furrowed. "Perhaps you should find out first how much they already know," Graham suggested. "If Gregory hasn't shown up yet, we might wait and write instead — or better, go up tomorrow and explain the whole thing in person."
"Oh, could we really?"
"I believe we can manage it. A wedding trip wasn't exactly on the Secret Service's schedule for me, but I imagine I can arrange something, especially since I may be called as a witness in the Halifax matter regardless. I'll need to speak with the Director first."
"Oh, how perfectly wonderful. Call them, then, and say something pleasant, and I'll speak to Mother after."
She gave him the number, and after a moment a voice answered from New York.
?
"Hello — is this Jefferson Hawthorne?" Graham said.
"This is your new brother-in-law. How's everyone holding up?
... Your mother's recovered from all the excitement?
... Good. What's that — you've been trying to reach us in Chicago?
We're not in Chicago, actually — changed our plans entirely and came to Washington instead.
The Harris Apartments. I'm afraid it's entirely my fault we haven't called sooner — I've kept Calie rather busy.
She's very well, and happy, I think. She'll want to tell you herself.
We'll try to come up tomorrow for a visit.
I want to meet you properly too — there's a good deal we owe you both an explanation for. Here's Calie."
Calie took the receiver, eyes shining, voice trembling with barely contained joy.
"Jeff, dear, it's so good to hear you. Is everything all right?
I've been having the most wonderful time, and I've got something marvelous to tell you.
Everything kind you said to me on the platform — all of it's true, and he's even nicer than you thought.
Yes, I'm very happy. Is Mother truly all right?
Not fretting? You promised to tell me the truth.
She thought I looked sad — well, I did, but that's entirely finished now.
Put her on, would you? I want her to hear it from me. "
She glanced up at Graham. "I'm going to tell her before Gregory gets there and worries her."
He answered by bending to kiss her, arm tightening around her waist. "Whatever you think best, dearest."
"Mother?" Her whole face lit at the sound of the voice on the line.
"I'm safe, and so happy, and I'm sorry you've worried — we won't let that happen again.
Listen, I have something wonderful to tell you.
Mother — I did not marry Gregory Hostetler.
I did not marry Gregory Hostetler at all.
He's a wicked man, Mother, I'll explain everything when I see you, that's why I looked so sad all these months.
I was married, yes, but not to him. He's — oh, Mother, you can't imagine how different he is.
He's right here beside me now, and he's every bit as dear as I'm telling you.
What's that — did I mean to marry Gregory?
No, Mother, never — I was miserable about it the whole time, and I know I made you worry too, though I tried so hard to hide it.
I'll explain it all properly. You'll understand completely once you know everything.
No, nothing to worry over now — everything's wonderful, more wonderful than I ever imagined life could be.
His name? Oh—" She glanced up at Graham with sudden, comic dismay, having entirely forgotten, and he whispered it against her ear.
"Caleb—"
"It's Caleb, Mother! Isn't that a lovely name? Yes, the first name. The last—"
"Graham," he supplied again, smiling.