“Callie, I thought you’d enjoy the opportunity to stay at home with Seamus. Of course, we’ll hire a nanny to help you. Perhaps I can persuade Mrs. Goodhope to move to the country.”
“You’ve planned everything, haven’t you? But not once did you ask me what I wanted.” Callie rose to her feet. With her hands balled into tight fists, she stood over him, glowering. “I like Oakwood Farm and I agree that it’s an ideal place for Seamus. And I’d enjoy not having to work while he’s so young. But I do not approve of your resuming your life in London. Not as long as you and I are legally married. If you’re going to—” Callie cut herself off and clenched and unclenched her fists, barely restraining the desire to throttle Burke. “Do not expect me to welcome you with open arms when you come to visit us. I will sleep alone in my bed and don’t you dare try to—”
Burke shot out of the chair and grabbed Callie by the shoulders. His big hands clamped over her bones, the pressure tight and his grip filled with tension. “If you’re determined to make things difficult, then so be it. I’ve never forced my attentions on a woman, and believe me, Mrs. Lonigan, I have no intention of starting with you.”
Chapter 13
On Friday evening, Leland pulled the Rolls up in front of the manor house at Oakwood Farm. Lights shined brightly from all the downstairs windows, giving the stately mansion a warm, inviting appearance. When Burke had rung Callie nightly, he’d been as cordial to her as her frosty demeanor allowed. They had limited the topics of their conversations to Seamus and mundane matters such as the weather. He’d been surprised that she hadn’t asked him about the import-export business or about how his effort to disentangle himself from the arms trade was progressing. He sensed that something was bothering Callie—something more than their precarious relationship. She seemed to be angry with him, but he didn’t know why. His decision to stay in London during the week to give her and Seamus time to adjust to him being a part of their lives as a husband and a father had for some odd reason upset her. Did she think he wanted to spend time away from his son, considering the fact that he’d missed the first fourteen months of the boy’s life? And did she think he preferred sleeping alone every night instead of sharing a bed with her?
“We’ve arrived, sir.”
When Leland spoke, Burke realized that the man had probably been standing there holding open the car door for several minutes.
“So we have. But I don’t see a welcoming committee rushing out to meet me.”
“It’s quite cold this evening,” Leland said. “Perhaps they’re waiting for you in the foyer.”
“Perhaps.”
The November wind chilled him the moment he emerged from the Rolls, his overcoat draped across his arm. He walked hurriedly toward the house, taking the steps two at a time. The moment he reached for the knob, the door swung open. But the face that greeted him was not the face he longed to see.
“Good evening, sir,” Mrs. Mayfield said as she reached to take his coat. “A bit nippy out tonight.”
“Yes, it is. How are you Mrs. M.? Did everyone have a good week?”
“A jolly good week, sir. Miss Callie, if I might be so bold as to say so, is a kind, lovely lady. And Master Seamus is a delight. Me and Bob are enjoying having the lad about, running and laughing and making this old house feel like a real home.”
“Thank you.” Burke glanced into the parlor. “Where are Mrs. Lonigan, er, Miss Callie and Seamus?”
“I’m afraid Seamus is asleep, sir. He’s had such a busy day playing and romping with the dogs. The wee one fell asleep while eating his dinner, he did.”
“And Miss Callie?”
“I served her tea in the library about fifteen minutes ago. She had my Bob build a fire in there. Said she was sure you’d want your dinner in the library this evening. I can bring it in whenever you’re ready.”
Burke nodded. “Serve it in about twenty minutes. I’d like some time alone with my wife first.”
Mrs. Mayfield’s fat, rosy cheeks darkened to scarlet. “She’s missed you, sir. Despite the joy little Seamus gives her, I could tell that she was lonely for you.”
“Hm.” Burke thought it best not to reply to his housekeeper’s observations. How could he explain to the dear woman that it was highly unlikely his wife had missed him? If she’d been lonely then it was probably because Enid had dashed off on Wednesday, back to London. During one of their brief telephone conversations, Callie had mentioned that her cousin had become bored with country life.
He approached the library and found the door open and Callie standing by the massive fireplace. Her gaze met his, an odd look of fury and expectation at war in her eyes. What had created that indignant feeling in her? he wondered. He believed that he had done everything possible to make the best of a bad situation. Why was she so upset with him? And was he misreading the expectation he thought he saw in her eyes? Was it simply his own hope for a warm welcome that made him think she, too, might be longing for a tender greeting?
“Hello, Callie.” His arms ached to open wide and invite her into his embrace. But he waited, hoping for a response from her.
“Good evening.” Her tone was neither cool nor warm, but a hint of a smile twitched her lips. “How was the drive down from London?”
“Uneventful,” Burke replied as he walked into the room. “I actually dozed off for about fifteen minutes.”
“Did you have a tiring week?”
She hadn’t moved an inch. Indeed, she seemed to be glued to the spot. Taking the initiative, he approached her, but when he noticed her visibly tense, he stopped himself from touching her.
“Business as usual. Everyone at the office asked about you and sent their best.”
The tension between them vibrated like a live wire, exposed and quite dangerous. He had missed his wife, had wanted desperately to be with her and had thought of little else while he’d been in London.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, staring directly at her.
Callie averted her gaze, quickly staring into the glowing fire. “We…that is, Seamus has asked about you. And I—I…”
Unable to refrain any longer, Burke reached out and clasped Callie’s hand. Her whole body went rigid, but she didn’t try to pull her hand from his. “We must talk. I have some things to tell you about myself, about the life I’ve lived for nearly twenty years.”
“As an arms dealer?”
Burke tugged on her hand. She followed him to the sofa and they both sat. When he released her, she folded her hands together and placed them in her lap.
“What I’m about to tell you, I share with you in strictest confidence. In order to share this information with you, I had to get permission from my superior, and he gave his permission only after thoroughly investigating you.”
Callie looked at him, puzzlement written plainly on her face. “You’ve totally confused me. You have a superior? I’m afraid I don’t understand. You own an import-export business, which is a front for your arms dealing. Am I wrong?”
“Yes and no.” Burke had known explaining his complicated life to Callie wouldn’t be easy. After all, where outside of novels and motion pictures did the average person come in contact with secret agents? “I suppose the best place to start is at the beginning.”
“The beginning of what?”
“The beginning of my life as a, er, an agent for the United States government.”
“What!” Callie leaned away from Burke, as if she was suddenly unsure of who he was and was wondering if he were dangerous.
“My stepfather, Gene Harmon, was a career soldier, and he had numerous friends in Washington, D.C. He introduced me to some men, movers and shakers on the capitol scene, and these men recruited me shortly after I graduated from college. The organization to which I belong was established during the American Civil War by President Lincoln and has an identity so guarded that even most members of the government don’t know it exists.”
Callie stared at Burke as if he’d suddenly sprouted an ext
ra head. Her eyes widened in disbelief.
“This organization has tentacles everywhere,” Burke continued.
“In U.S. and foreign affairs and even in the private business sector. Because I was born in England and my biological father lived here, I was chosen for my particular position. The organization bankrolled my import-export business. My home in Belgravia, my apartments in Paris and New York and my villa in Italy belong to SPEAR.”
“SPEAR?”
“Stealth, Perseverance, Endeavor, Attack and Rescue,” Burke explained. He had always been proud to be a part of the organization and had lived by its code of honor. But now, he wanted out of the arms business. He wanted a life with Callie and their son, and he knew, without her telling him, that the only way Callie would ever remain his wife was if he stayed out of the line of fire. And the only way to be the kind of father he wanted to be to his son was by staying married to his son’s mother. He was determined to spare his son the pain he’d known as boy.
Callie continued staring at Burke, her mouth slightly agape and a look of total bewilderment in her eyes.
Burke blew out a deep breath. “I know I’ve given you a lot to digest, but as my wife, as Seamus’s mother, I felt you had a right to know the truth.”
“You’re not a multimillionaire and you don’t own Lonigan’s Imports and Exports. Is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“And you aren’t an arms dealer?”
“No.”
“Then…then what was all that business with Simon?”
“I can’t go into any details with you. I’m sorry. But I can tell you that the entire situation with Simon was directly related to my work for SPEAR.” He searched her eyes for any sign that she understood, accepted and believed what he told her. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand what you’ve said, but I must admit that I’m overwhelmed. I had no idea…”
Burke couldn’t stop himself from touching her. Just the gentlest of brushes. His knuckles across her cheek. She sucked in her breath and drew back from him, her eyes round and wide with a hint of fear in them.
“No, please, Callie, don’t be afraid.” His hand hovered in the air, not touching her but within inches of her face. “You’re safe. Seamus is safe. Neither of you has anything to fear from me or my work as a SPEAR agent.” Even as he voiced the proclamation, he knew he wasn’t being totally honest. Not with himself and not with her.
“I can be a father to my son. A real father. But I don’t want to have to go through legal channels to gain my rights. I want you to trust me enough to willingly let me be a full-time father to Seamus.”
“I—I don’t know.” Callie eased to her feet and looked at Burke. “You’ve given me a great deal of information. I need time to think about everything and come to terms with what you’ve told me.”
“Take all the time you need.” Burke stood. Forcing himself not to reach out and take her in his arms, he simply looked at her. So beautiful. So tempting. His wife. And yet not his wife at all.
“Before you make any decisions about our future, you should know that although I’m not a multimillionaire, I am a wealthy man. Oakwood Farm belongs to me. And I do receive a healthy salary from Lonigan’s Imports and Exports. You and Seamus will never want for anything.”
“Your money has never interested me,” she said. “Not that night two years ago and not now. But your lifestyle does interest me. You’re an agent for a government organization and your first loyalty is to them, not to me. Not even to Seamus. And you’ve spent the past twenty years as a playboy bachelor. I will not be the wife of a philandering husband!”
Before Burke could fully comprehend what her outburst was all about, Callie ran from the room, almost colliding with Mrs. Mayfield, who held a tray containing Burke’s dinner.
“Callie,” he called after her, but she sidestepped the housekeeper and fled. “Damn!” he muttered under his breath.
“Shall I bring in your dinner, sir?” Mrs. Mayfield waited in the doorway, a look of concern on her face.
“Yes. Certainly. Place the tray on my desk.”
“Yes, sir.” She did as he had bid and turned for a hasty retreat.
“Mrs. Mayfield?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Why don’t you sleep in tomorrow. Take the weekend off,” Burke suggested. “Miss Callie and I can take care of things here.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you. But what about Master Seamus? He doesn’t have a nanny yet and the lad wakes quite early. He’ll have you up with the chickens.”
“I won’t mind,” Burke assured her. “I’m looking forward to spending the entire weekend with my son.”
“Very well, sir. But you will ring me if you need me.”
Burke dismissed the housekeeper with a nod and a smile. He realized that he had his work cut out for him persuading Callie to accept him as her husband and Seamus’s father. For some reason, she seemed to believe he intended to continue living the carefree life of a bachelor. Perhaps if he explained to her that he had told Jonah he wanted to retire, she would see that he was sincere. But he didn’t dare tell her and then have her disappointed if Jonah refused his request. Callie had been right when she’d said that as long as he was a field agent his first alliance was to SPEAR. Not to her and Seamus.
Burke woke to the sound of Seamus crying. It took several minutes for his brain to register the noise. After all, he wasn’t accustomed to having a baby in the house. He shot out of bed and headed for the door, then realized he wore only his underpants. After grabbing his robe from a nearby chair, he slipped into it and tied the belt securely around his waist. By the time he reached Callie’s door, Seamus had quieted. Burke hesitated for a couple of minutes, then knocked softly and without waiting for a reply opened the door and walked in.
Wearing cotton pajamas of a pale yellow with a tiny peach-colored rosebud design, Callie sat in the middle of the bed with her legs spread apart. A wide-eyed Seamus bounced up and down between them. When the child teetered and almost fell, Callie caught him in her arms and hugged him to her breast.
Burke cleared his throat. In unison, mother and child turned to stare at him. Seamus smiled and said, “Dada.” Callie gave him a rather harsh what-do-you-want? glare.
“Good morning,” Burke said as he trekked across the room and pulled back the curtain at the window overlooking the large garden. “The sun’s up. The sky is clear. And Jack Frost paid us a visit during the night.” He pecked on the frost-coated windowpane.
“Why are you up so early?” Callie asked as she tried to restrain Seamus, who was reaching out for his father.
Burke grinned. “I didn’t want to miss a minute of the day with my son.” And with his mother, he thought.
Burke came to the bed, reached down and lifted Seamus into his arms. “You’re certainly an early riser, little man.”
“Meck,” Seamus said.
Burke’s brow wrinkled. “What did he say?”
“Milk,” Callie interpreted. “He’s hungry. If you’ll give him to me, I’ll take him downstairs and—”
“I can take him to the kitchen and feed him,” Burke told her. “If you’d like to go back to sleep—”
Callie jumped out of bed. “What do you know about feeding a child? He’ll want milk and cereal and some fruit. But before he’s fed, he needs changing.”
“Ah, yes, a nappie change.” Burke hoisted Seamus high into the air over his head. The child squealed with delight. “I think I can handle that job, too.”
“Very well. His diapers are there in the top drawer.” She pointed to an antique highboy on the far side of the large bedroom.
“What would you like for breakfast?” Burke asked as he retrieved a nappie from the highboy. “I’ve given Mrs. M. the day off, so I’ll be preparing our meal.”
“You’re going to cook?” Callie smiled.
Burke loved her smile. It had been awhile since he’d seen a genuine smile on her lovely face. Despite the remnants of
lingering anger and distrust he still felt over Callie having kept Seamus’s existence a secret from him, he couldn’t deny that he cared about her. And he wanted her. If only she would cooperate with him, then perhaps they could build a good life together. After all, they were highly compatible in bed, and with a bit of work they might find that they would do all right in other areas, too.
“Nothing special,” he said. “Perhaps toast and tea.”
“You change Seamus’s nappie,” Callie told him as she lifted her robe from the foot of the bed. “I’ll go downstairs and prepare breakfast for us.”
She left father and son alone and rushed out of the bedroom, along the hall and down the stairs. The house seemed chilly, so she paused long enough to adjust the thermostat, then hurried into the room she had begun to think of as Mrs. M.’s kitchen. She wanted to prepare a delicious meal for her men. She would like Burke to tell her what a good cook she was and how glad he was to be home with her and Seamus—where he belonged. She longed for him to promise that his days as a London playboy were over and so was his life as an undercover agent.
She shuddered at the thought of how often Burke must have been in danger as an agent for the secret organization to which he belonged. Would he be able to exchange the excitement of undercover work for the placid life of a gentleman farmer?
Callie wanted to believe that a leopard could change its spots, but Burke had made her no promises about altering his lifestyle. He might not be an arms dealer, but he was a secret agent. And he planned to continue living in London while she and Seamus stayed in Kent. Surely she wasn’t fool enough to think he would be willing to give up the beautiful, sophisticated women in his life just for her.
“Oh, Burke, if only you truly loved me the way I love you. Then perhaps we’d have a chance to make our marriage work.”
The day had been a page taken from Burke’s childhood fantasy, only in this version, he was the father. Nothing could ever change the fact that his own father had never acknowledged him and had allowed him to grow up a bastard. But he intended to make sure that Seamus always knew he was loved and wanted. As soon as he worked through his problems with Callie, Burke would legally claim his son. Nothing was more important to him.
Her Secret Weapon Page 18
