Chapter 3

Phileas found his bride in the first place he looked, the passenger cabin area. It had not been difficult as there were only a few cabins occupied at present and the sound of her crying had been audible through the door. He knocked lightly, received no answer.

I don't need one. As her husband, I may enter by right, can't I? The sooner we make some decisions on how to deal with this mess, the better.

Phileas set himself with a quick tug of his coat and sleeves and opened the door.

On instinct, Phileas's hand flew up to catch an incoming object that had been sent flying at his head as he closed the door. It turned out to be a heavy silver-handled brush. That was the first and last missile Melody threw at him. Phileas lost his temper and all intentions of handling the girl gently. He launched himself in Melody's direction, catching her right arm before she could send a matching hand mirror at him.

"That would be seven years' bad luck, madam," he said. "Not a good way to start a marriage."

Phileas wrestled the mirror out of her hand and forced her down on the bed, holding her arms pressed firmly into the mattress to keep her from hitting him. This girl was not a weakling. She fought him hard. She was slight and short, easy to subdue. Add to that his size and her obvious ignorance in the defensive arts…

Phileas gratefully reminded himself that most women did not have Rebecca's agent's training. This would be much easier on him than any similar altercation with his cousin.

"I feared this!" Melody cried, looking up at him as she continued to struggle against his hold. Her face was streaked with tears. "I didn't expect it to come this way. I told you at the start we shouldn't pretend at romance. I didn't care what anyone on this ship thought. I could deal with it until we reached London."

"Stop that!" Fogg ordered, coming down half on top of her to stop her twisting about. "If you were truly so willing to brave the censor, why are we married?" Phileas demanded.

"Because you insisted!" She shouted back in his face, going still under him. "Because you said I was in danger and that I had to allow you to stay close to me! You were courting me from the moment we met. Ever since we left Tripoli, you have been insistent that I stay close to you. I have half-convinced myself that you really had meant to propose to me that night. It's been so–"

Phileas cut her off. "I insisted? I might have insisted on a sham engagement, but not a full-fledged marriage. No Madam, you are going to have to do better than that."

Phileas pushed himself up off her and pulled her up into a sitting position in front of him, still holding her arms to keep her from running or hitting him. "Now, tell me again how this marriage really took place, and how you came to be my wife, in fact?"

"The captain and the minister insisted on that," she said through fresh tears. She sniffled and went silent. When she had calmed, she said, "The captain and the minister insisted we marry the next day to avoid becoming a scandal. And you agreed to let them get a special license for us. I thought… I thought you knew a way to get around it… to make it not real. But then… the ceremony was real. And I had to sign the papers."

"And now you've forgotten everything and–"

Melody broke down again. She looked up into his face, seeking sympathy, found none. Phileas's face was a study in anger and loathing, all settling on her. The man she had spent the first five days of her married life with was nowhere in sight. Instead of tearing at the injustice of it all, Melody made one more all-out effort to defend herself against his accusations. "Don't you dare think I trapped you. You trapped me. You insisted!"

The stranger's hard eyes told her exactly what he thought of that pronouncement. He didn't just disbelieve, he clearly blamed her for everything. Melody couldn't take it. It was too heartbreaking… too unfair. A new river of tears ran down her cheeks.

Phileas watched without sympathy as her tears washed down the track marks of a previous flood. She is trying to weaken my resolve with women's oldest weapon against men, or I am holding her arms too tightly.

He loosened his hold just in case, belatedly realizing the grip on her arms was making his hands cramp. When he did, Melody jerked free of him and jumped from the bed to the far side of the room. There, she just stood with her back to him, too out of control of herself to venture out on deck. She softly cried and rubbed her sore arms, obviously attempting to draw into herself, away from the glowering man staring at her.

After several moments spent wrestling back his control, Phileas approached his… bride, standing just a step from her trembling shoulders. "Miss," he said more gently. "Please, try to get hold of yourself. What is done is done. We are fully man and wife, and there will be no annulment possible. I may have temporarily forgotten how and why we are in this position, but I suspect it will come back to me in time. Until then…"

"Oh, Lord!" Melody cried out, bringing her hands up to cover her face. "My brother, Charles… He will meet the ship to take me to his home. I wanted you two to meet… to… But if you don't remember… and you're angry with me…"

The lady's crying intensified at the thought of what would happen when her brother discovered this mess.

Phileas gave in. He stared up at the ceiling as if entreating the Almighty.

Yes, there would be this sort of complication. Now, to calm Melody so her brother doesn't kill me on sight.

Phileas gently turned Melody to face him and sat her back down on the bed. "It would be better for all concerned if we pretended that all is well between us," Phileas said, calming his voice and taking on a kindlier tone. "It will put your brother at ease and… Until we get this sorted out between us, I think we should keep our… unique circumstances private."

Melody heard him, agreed, and fought her runaway emotions back under control. "Yes, that would be best. Charles won't like this at all. We haven't seen each other since I left England. He writes to me as if I were still seventeen."

"Beg your pardon, but just how old are you?" Phileas said, handing her a handkerchief.

Melody looked up at him, bemused at the direct question as she accepted his offering. Something about it amused her. She smiled and coughed as she responded with a watery giggle. "You know, you have asked that of me every day since we wed; every time you have had a memory lapse. Most times you remember we were married, but not what my name is or how old I am. And you have always looked so terribly uncomfortable when I've told you. I'm twenty-three."

And I am forty-four. Near twice her age… Not an unusual occurrence in society, but it would make the situation a hard sell to a surprised, protective brother.

Damage control was now paramount.

Phileas guarded his true feelings about this situation and dealt with his bride as gently as he could manage. "Tell me about yourself and your family, please? Remind me of all you have told me. Trust me," he pleaded. "I'll see this comes out right. You have my word as a gentleman on it."

Melody looked up at those words and searched his eyes. He had said those exact words to her just before she had accepted his engagement idea, and then again, the night after the ceremony. His green eyes had the same pleading look to them then that they did now. She wondered what it was about this man that had caused her to lose herself to him so completely.

She then counted them in her heart as she started talking.

"My… father was a major in the Army," she said, giving up the struggle. "He died two months ago in Egypt. I was on my way back to England to live with my brother. He lives in Kent with…"