The conversation began again as the cousins sipped their tea in restrained civility.
"To answer your questions," Fogg said, "Melody's maiden name was Anderson, late of Alexandria, Egypt, born in Kent. She is distantly related to the Earl of Yarborough from when the Anderson family name had been attached to that title. It is about the same sort of connection that we have to the Earl of Derby. She is old gentry, the same as us. Her father, Major Charles Anderson, was an army officer assigned to Alexandria. He died two months ago."
"Rebecca, this marriage was a surprise to me as well," Phileas said, uncomfortably. "Melody was threatened during our voyage. An Arab tried to carry her off while we were visiting a marketplace in Tripoli. A second attempt was made later aboard our ship the night before we reached Oran. I intervened both times, and was injured in each time, coming to her aid. She does not know what could have caused it."
He took another sip of tea, wishing it had something more in it. "That second time–the circumstances created a scandal," he said, looking at his teacup. "I stumbled into Melody's room, trying to get her out of sight after fighting off her kidnapper. We crashed to the floor together. A moment later, the room was full of people, and I was being accused of accosting the girl. I forced Melody to agree to a deception to cover the situation and keep me out of irons so I could protect her."
"The next morning…" Fogg stumbled, stammered through the rest of the story. "I… I honestly don't remember a great deal of what happened over the next several days. M…Melody tells me being e…engaged had not been good enough for the c…captain. H…he insisted w…we marry, while there was a minister aboard to see it done. A s…special license was ob…tained and our… marriage at sea was accomplished. In my s…crambled state, I… agreed to it."
"Then it can be annulled. You only married Miss Anderson to watch over her." Rebecca moved to his side, all sympathy. She hadn't heard him stammer like that in years. Sham weddings were not an unknown tactic in spy craft. Rebecca had, to date, pretended to be a married woman four times and a widow three times to accomplish missions. "Have you started the annulment process yet?"
"No, and that… isn't going to be possible." Phileas said. He stood, turned his back to her.
Rebecca took several moments to digest that.
"Oh?"
"My bit of subterfuge took on a life of its own while I was recovering from my injuries. Melody and I are fully man and wife. I still don't recall just how that came about, but she will be remaining Mrs. Melody Fogg."
Phileas said it with conviction, and a note of finality, like the sound of a nail being driven into a coffin. There was no use fighting it anymore. What was done was done. For good or ill, he had married the girl, and he would have to live with it.
Rebecca bit her lip, then swallowed twice, gave up the losing effort and laughed out loud.
Phileas turned back to her, treating his cousin to a withering frown for her mirth in the face of his discomfort.
It didn't help. Rebecca laughed even harder.
"Not know how it came about?" She shouted, laughing hysterically. "Oh, come Phileas, I'm sure you know good and well how one goes about consummating a marriage. Are you saying you can't remember the doing?"
"That is exactly what I am saying, and I fail to see the humor in this," Phileas said.
"No," Rebecca said, bringing her reactions back under control. "I don't suppose you would. But… Lord, Phileas. Before now, to say you weren't the marrying kind would have been putting it mildly. To think that you agreed to go through a ceremony and then let your, umm… natural inclinations take over… It is just priceless." Saying that got the better of her again. Rebecca lost herself to the absurdity of it all and burst again.
Seeing how Phileas was still not prepared to see the humor in it, Rebecca fought valiantly to regain her composure, stood, and gave her stiff and incensed cousin a hug.
"I'm sorry, Phileas. I… offer my congratulations. Your bride appears to be a fine young lady. I'm sure she will be good for you. And I might even help you get those references."
Phileas accepted the apology and the good wishes, but not gladly. Rebecca questioned him further. "Phileas, is there something more?"
"No," he said in a low tone staring at the floor. He took his seat again.
She sat beside him, taking a hand. He was clearly still upset about something.
"Yes," Phileas said with a long sigh. "You are quite right when you say I am not the marrying kind. And yes, the situation is completely absurd. I honestly didn't consider marriage back when I was beginning my career. Father discouraged it because of the dangers I faced."
"Yes, he gave me the same lecture," Rebecca said, taking on a more serious attitude. "Marriage is best set aside until after one rises to a supervisory position, after one gives up the travel and the constant risk taking." She repeated from memory.
"That was it, yes," Phileas said, nodding. "But, I never allowed myself to be moved to a desk, that or father didn't choose to decrease my field work. That is irrelevant now," he said, pushing down the old urge to complain about the man. "The point is, I have given little thought to marriage, and when I have, it has been some future possibility I had plenty of time to see to."
"And now, it's a fact, and you aren't happy about it, are you?" Rebecca said.
She wouldn't be happy about being forced into marriage with someone she didn't know, either. More so now than when she had been young, and Sir Boniface had still been alive. In the back of all young people's minds was the knowledge that their parents had full authority over their future. Had he wanted to arrange her or Phileas's marriage, Sir Boniface could have by right.
"And now, I'm… I had thought that I had waited too long," Phileas said. "I have, for over a year now, settled myself to accept that. I expected I would remain a bachelor for the rest of my life. Even made my final arrangements understanding that I would leave no direct heir. And now, to have a marriage forced on me… to a girl half my age that I've no…" He couldn't speak the rest. Not even to Rebecca would he say the rest.
Rebecca added what he meant without his voicing it. Phileas didn't want to be married. He didn't consider this young woman right for him and there might also be the possibility he had no feelings for her, no honorable ones anyway. He might even be worried that she felt as forced as he did. That or he felt she caused this to happen, to gain a wealthy husband. Yes, there was that.
Rebecca wouldn't take that happening to her cousin lightly. If Melody Anderson proved to be a female fortune hunter, she would rue the day she set her sights on Phileas Fogg.
"Phileas," Rebecca said, laying a hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to look at her. "I think you should take this a little at a time until you get used to the idea. I'm sure, even half dead, no one could have forced you into saying vows you didn't want to say."
Phileas would have thought so too, which was why this situation bothered him so.
"At any rate," Rebecca said, "as you said, it is done. You are married to a very pretty young lady who doesn't seem to want to escape. It appears she has been making herself at home."
Between the smell of bread and the minor changes Rebecca had seen thus far, she would say Melody Anderson Fogg had been making a good show of accepting her position.
Phileas didn't acknowledge her last comment or share his thoughts further. As close as he and Rebecca were, how he would deal with his reluctant bride would be a private matter. Instead, he ended the uncomfortable conversation with a teasing complaint.
"You will be pleased to know that Melody has been taking good care of me in my recovery. She is a tyrant of a nurse, nearly as bad as you. I'm not given a moment's peace if I don't follow her directions. She has taken over the running of the house and will no doubt soon have Passepartout twisted about her finger by dinner."
"Just what you deserve," Rebecca said, grinning.