Everything I Need, page 22
Anthony’s heart sank. He’d been afraid she’d say that.
But Melody was worth fighting for and the things that were important to her were crucial to him.
“Nothing like that,” Anthony assured his grandmother. “But…the thing is…”
She stiffened.
Tony, much to his surprise, gave him an encouraging nod that she thankfully didn’t seem to notice.
Much to Anthony’s further surprise, the encouraging nod gave him strength.
He took a deep breath.
“When Pa died,” he said, referring to his grandfather, “I promised I’d come home and help out. And I have done. For years now.”
One of her brows shot up.
“But, Granny, maybe you’ve noticed that I’m not exactly setting the world on fire with my speeches to gardening clubs and my patronage of recycling programs and the like. And I think you can probably find someone else to christen your new ships for you. I’ll be around for big events, of course, but I’m fairly confident that the world will continue to turn if I were to, say…practice law in New York instead.”
“What’s this insubordination all about?” she asked sharply.
He hesitated, not wanting to make Melody the object of Granny’s ire.
But, on the other hand, anyone who’d ever had a passing acquaintance with him could surely see that he was happier than he’d ever been in his life, and the cause was obvious.
“When a man gets married, he has to do what’s best for his wife and children. As you know.”
Tony, still out of the Queen’s line of sight, gave him a thumbs-up.
Anthony blinked furiously, trying not to smile at this crucial juncture.
“I do know,” Granny said in her craggiest voice, eyes glinting as she watched him closely. “Too bad you have neither wife nor children at the ripe old age of thirty-five.”
“That’s about to change.”
Granny’s lips twitched with a smile that didn’t seem to want to be repressed as she dabbed her mouth, wiped her hands, grabbed her handbag and stood, forcing the men to surge to their feet with her.
“About bloody time,” she said, heading for the door. “Come, dogs. We’ve got to meet Dr. Harrison.”
The dogs jumped up and streamed after her, the blue-collared puppy yapping the loudest in his excitement.
“Hang on,” Anthony said, overtaken with a vague feeling of horror at the thought of an unsuspecting, un-showered and jet-lagged Melody opening the door and being presented with the Queen. “What about protocol? Aren’t there rules for this? You can’t just pop in on her, can you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she deadpanned. “Has she got some previous engagement that’s more important?”
“Well, no, but…” Anthony stammered as she swept out, looking at Tony with a desperate but silent plea for help.
Tony held up his hands and backed up a step. “Not getting involved, son. I’m just glad old Annie’s decided to terrorize someone else for a while.”
From out in the corridor came the unabashed sound of the Queen’s cackle of amusement.
“What else do you expect?” she called. “I have so few pleasures in life.”
20
A few minutes later, Anthony let himself back into the cottage and left the door ajar, taking off his jacket and tie and rolling up his shirtsleeves as he went. He felt an unsettling combination of nerves and euphoria. Now that the dam had broken, things were moving at a breakneck pace. Which was of course the pace he’d have chosen for his relationship with Melody if he’d been in charge this whole time, but still.
This all seemed a bit too good to be true.
The dogs swarmed in after him, tails wagging as they yapped at each other and generally made nuisances of themselves tearing about the sitting room and exploring. It might have been his imagination, but he swore he saw that troublesome blue-collared puppy lift a leg and pee on one corner of a rug that, if not priceless, was certainly worth more than Anthony’s hide, at least as far as Granny was concerned.
Ah, well. He had bigger fish to fry at the moment.
There was no sign of Melody.
He cleared his throat and sent up a silent prayer for the best.
“Melody?”
“Hey!” He heard her hurried footsteps down the hall. She sounded wide awake, which was good. He’d been half afraid she’d be buried deep in bed in a jet lag-induced coma. “You’re back!”
“And I’ve brought company,” he said darkly.
Melody appeared in the doorway, looking bright-eyed, pink-cheeked and good enough to eat.
Having showered, she’d piled her wet hair into one of those sexy trailing ponytails that left tendrils around her face and changed into a casual but lovely blue dress that thankfully skimmed her knees. God only knew how many times he’d listened to Granny chastise his female cousins for showing the world their wrinkly little knees. Granny probably wouldn’t be wild about Melody’s strappy open-toed sandals, but queens who unexpectedly showed up on people’s doorsteps could not be choosy.
“I see that,” Melody said with delight, stooping to greet the beagles as they bounced over to say hello. The blue-collared puppy, having satisfactorily emptied his little bladder, now leaned his front paws on Melody’s shins and stared up at her for a closer look. “And who are these little guys?”
“Granny’s dogs.”
“And how was your coffee with Granny?” she asked, now squatting to scoop the dogs closer. A couple of them tried to jump up and lick her face, making her laugh.
“Very interesting.” He opened the front door wider, with the desperate hope that what he was about to do wouldn’t ruin his relationship with Melody forever. “But don’t take my word for it. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
And in swept Granny.
She really played it up, too, giving her chin that regal hike she always favored when she opened Parliament in full regalia every year and settling her boxy black bag into the crook of her elbow. The twinkle of amusement in her eyes was a dead giveaway that she was enjoying herself, but he didn’t expect poor Melody to realize that this first time out of the gate.
“My grandmother,” he told Melody. “Granny, this is my girlfriend. Dr. Melody Harrison.”
Granny held out one bejeweled hand. “How do you do?”
Melody’s expression cycled through paralytic shock, horror at being caught letting dogs lick her face, punishing fury at Anthony for letting her be caught unawares like this and then, finally, gracious resignation and excitement during the time it took for her to rise, smooth her dress back into place and smile as she pressed Granny’s hand.
And then Melody, to his utter delight, executed a ramrod straight and graceful bob of a curtsy.
“Your Majesty,” she said, towering over the petite queen. “How do you do?”
Granny looked around at Anthony, her raised brows echoing Anthony’s surprise.
“She curtsies,” Granny said in a stage whisper.
“Who knew?” he said wryly with an approving wink at Melody, whose cheeks flushed with pleasure. He’d been a hundred percent certain he wanted to marry her for a long time now, but if not, the curtsy would have sealed the deal.
“One never knows with Americans,” Granny said. “Some of them feel that a bow or curtsy is tantamount to reverting to colony status with Britain and paying taxes on their tea shipments.”
Melody grinned. “Well, I am staying in your house and you’re the only queen I’ve ever met. Seems appropriate.”
Granny beamed at her. “And where did you learn to do it so well? I have several family members who could do with a lesson from you.”
Melody laughed, then tilted her head as she thought it over. “I have no idea, now that I think about it. Probably Downton Abbey.”
Granny exchanged another excited glance with Anthony before turning back to Melody.
“You’re a fan?” Granny asked.
“Who isn’t?”
“Favorite character?”
“Lady Violet, of course.”
“Oh, I don’t like her,” Granny said, nose crinkling with distaste. “She’s far too imperious. Who does she think she is? The Queen?”
They all burst into laughter. Anthony watched his two favorite women with great excitement and tried to blend into the background while they got to know each other.
Granny eased closer to Melody and put a hand on her arm. “You’re a doctor, I believe?”
“Yes, ma’am. Pediatric surgeon.”
“And your parents are doctors as well?”
“Yes. My father is an orthopedic surgeon and my mother is an OB/GYN.”
“Well, at my age, I’ve closed up shop down there, so your mother is of no use to me, but perhaps your father could take a look at my knee one of these days. It’s never been right after I took a nasty fall hunting a few years ago.”
“I’m sure he’d be thrilled, ma’am.”
“Your sister has had a bit of trouble this week, I believe?”
Melody hesitated.
“Yes. She’s going through a rough period right now, but I think it’s temporary.”
“We all have our rough spots, don’t we?” Granny said ruefully. “My great-uncle Rupert took forty years with his.”
“At least,” Anthony said.
Granny spared him a quick glance before refocusing on Melody. “You’ve met the dogs, I see. I’d heard a nasty rumor that you were a cat person.”
Melody shot Anthony a quelling look. “Have you been running your mouth?”
“Constantly,” Granny interjected before he could say anything. “You’re all he can talk about. It’s quite remarkable, really.”
Anthony ducked his head, the better to hide his burning cheeks.
“Now who’s running off at the mouth?” he muttered.
The women laughed.
“Let’s just say that I see the benefits of both dogs and cats,” Melody said.
Granny nodded with tremendous satisfaction.
“A true diplomat. You should fit in nicely. I’m thinking of giving the pair of you the little male, there, when he’s a bit older. With the blue collar. The one who’s currently chewing on the leg of that priceless end table. Every good home needs a dog or two. And I understand that you have a very fine dog park in Journey’s End, so he should be happy there.”
There was a long pause while Melody looked dumbstruck and Granny waited.
Then Melody’s breath hitched and her questioning gaze flew to Anthony.
He shrugged, doing his best to remain a cool cucumber until the conclusion of the interview.
Melody blinked back a tear or two and smiled at Granny.
“That’s incredibly generous, ma’am. Thank you. We’ll take very good care of him.”
“See that you do. Don’t get so busy with your growing careers that you forget to feed him. There’s nothing worse than a dead puppy lying about the place. His name is Winston Churchill. You must promise not to change it.”
“Wow. That’s quite a name for a dog.”
“He’s the pick of the litter, so he needed a strong name. It was either that or Harry Potter. And I thought he needed a bit more gravitas.”
“True,” Melody said, laughing.
“And I’ll expect regular updates on his progress. And pictures. They’ve given me a smart phone, so you can text me. Here. Let me show you.”
Anthony smothered a laugh while his grandmother pulled out her phone and Melody oohed and aahed over the bedazzled case with the royal crest on it.
“Well, dear,” Granny told Melody, putting the phone away and shutting her little handbag with a conclusory snap. “I’ll get out of your hair and let you go about your day. I hope you’ll forgive me for popping in unannounced, but my curiosity got the best of me. I had to come and meet the woman who’s had such an extraordinary effect on young Hamlet, here.”
“I’m not Hamlet,” Anthony said, frowning. “If anything, I identify much more with Macbeth. He was someone who knew how to deal with a troublesome monarch.”
They all laughed.
Then Granny took Melody’s hand, sobering.
“You mustn’t be a stranger. We expect to see you both very often.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And I’m sorry about your not coming to the investiture tomorrow.” Granny made a face. “But protocol must be observed with these things and you and I haven’t officially met yet. Which reminds me. I’m going to issue a formal invitation to tea. And when you come, you must pretend we’ve never met. Otherwise my private secretary, Tommy, will never let me hear the end of it. And I have so little joy as it is. I snuck over here just now. He thinks I’m napping with a headache.”
“I completely understand, ma’am,” Melody said gravely.
“When we meet again, none of this ma’am stuff. You must call me Granny. And I shall call you…Mellie. After my mother’s favorite beagle when I was a child. I hope you don’t mind. But at my age, I don’t really care if you do.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Melody said, laughing. “I’m honored.”
“We kiss each other on both cheeks when we see each other for the first time. People accuse Brits of not being affectionate, but that’s not the case.”
“Well, I hope you’ll forgive me if I slip up and try to hug you one of these times. I know I’m on British soil, but sometimes my American exuberance slips through.”
“I’m aware,” Granny said dryly. “It’s a terrible trait. Bubba does it all the time, despite my best efforts to discourage it.”
“Bubba?” Melody shot him an incredulous look. “That is quite the nickname. I may have to use it.”
“You will not,” he told her with as much dignity as he could muster with his cheeks and ears burning.
Melody turned back to his grandmother. “I will try to keep control of my American exuberance and not hug you too often.”
“Well.” Granny gave Melody a long and thoughtful look, dimpling up at her. “I might overlook it this one time. As you’re new.”
Melody started to reach for her, then seemed to think better of it. “What about a kiss? Would a kiss be too much?”
Aggrieved sigh from Granny. “If you must, Mellie.”
Grinning widely, Melody bent, kissed Granny’s cheek and pulled her in for a true hug, which the Queen returned with interest.
Watching them, Anthony almost expired with happiness.
When they pulled apart, Granny patted Melody’s cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
Granny cocked her head and cupped her ear.
“Granny,” Melody added, color flooding her cheeks.
Crisp nod from Granny, who turned and snapped her fingers.
“Come, dogs. Anthony, you may walk us out.”
Shooting Melody a silent raised-brow look, he followed Granny to the threshold, where she snapped her fingers again and turned back to Melody. “I’m glad you enjoyed the tea. You write a very fine thank-you note.”
“Thank you for sending it,” Melody said. “I feel so special. I didn’t know what I was missing this whole time. Now I’m a tea snob. I refuse to use any old tea bags anymore.”
“There’s plenty more where that came from.”
“Good,” Melody said, grinning with delight. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
“And there’s something one should always remember when the press gives one a hard time, Mellie. An Eleanor Roosevelt quotation. Perhaps you know it?”
Melody looked startled, but quickly mastered her quivering chin as she nodded. “‘No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.’”
“Precisely, dear,” Granny said with tremendous satisfaction.
Another nod, then Granny and her furry entourage went to the door, where she stood and waited for Anthony to swing it open for her. Then they walked outside and down the gravel path to where her unmarked car and security officer were waiting. The dogs leapt inside and took their places at the windows.
Granny paused, eyes twinkling. “She’s an exquisite choice. I’m very pleased.”
Anthony breathed a huge sigh of relief. As someone at the bottom of the line of succession, he didn’t need his grandmother’s permission to marry, but it certainly didn’t hurt.
“So am I. Only pray I can get her down the aisle before she comes to her senses and realizes she’s far too good for me.”
“This should help you out, dear,” she said, handing him something from her purse.
By now, Anthony felt quite overcome. He opened his arms and started to pull her in for a hug, but she prevented that by holding up her hand for him to kiss.
“That’s enough American affection for the day,” she said, pressing her lips together to quash her smile as she patted his cheek. “One mustn’t overdo.”
21
Anthony hurried back inside, his overjoyed brain buzzing with half-formed plans about how to proceed from here. A checklist. He needed a checklist.
First off? He needed to wrap up the charity events he’d already committed to, which were scheduled for the next several months. He needed to sign up for the New York bar exam, sign up for a review class to help him pass said bar exam and see about getting a job. He and Melody needed to discuss where they’d live and make an appointment to see her dream house, which was probably perfect for their needs at this point. He needed to select a date to actually move so that he and Melody no longer had to endure any more of these excruciating good-byes and separations, bearing in mind that he couldn’t very well pack up all his stuff and check it with the baggage when they went back for Baptiste and Samira’s wedding, much as the idea appealed to him at the moment.
All important considerations, no doubt.
But one item in particular loomed large, knocking everything else to the side:
Making Melody his wife.
Honest to God, he felt his soul grin at the idea.
The proposal would have to wait a bit, obviously, what with his investiture tomorrow and the quick fly-back to Journey’s End for the rehearsal dinner and wedding at the end of the week. And while he was no genius or professional when it came to romantic gestures, even he knew that one couldn’t go around getting engaged and thereby trampling on someone else’s big day. Plus, some of his married friends had regaled him with their proposal extravaganzas, which often included weeks of intense planning culminating in grand gestures that often involved things like doves, butterflies, decoy cars and surprise getaway weekends to exotic locales.
