Her mother answered the doorbell, undoubtedly puzzled over who might be calling at such a dreadfully late hour. It was almost ten o’clock. She saw her wayward daughter first and instantly froze. “Tessa,” she said. “What have you done?”
Then she saw Blaize. Her mouth remained open but no words came out. After all, Tessa reasoned, her mother liked men to be handsome. Blaize Callagan was probably the most handsome man she had ever seen. He did have this effect on women.
Tessa herself was still being strongly affected by him. Very strongly. He claimed he was faithful to one woman at a time, and he had better stay that way, she thought grimly. She had a few ideas of her own on how that could be accomplished.
Tessa took a deep breath and got on with introductions. “Sorry it’s so late, Mum, but this is Blaize Callagan, and he doesn’t work by the clock. He wanted to meet you and Dad. He thinks now is as good a time as any. In fact, he wouldn’t consider any other time, so it’s not my fault. Blaize, this is my mother, Joan Stockton.”
“My pleasure, Mrs. Stockton,” Blaize said, flashing his dazzling smile as he offered his hand.
Joan swam slowly out of shock. “Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear,” she gasped. Her hands went to her hair to primp, in case the permanent wave was not just so. Then she touched her lips in horror at the thought her lipstick might have faded. Her hand dropped to her throat. “And to think I’ve already taken off my pearls.”
“You look fine, Mum,” Tessa assured her, knowing how much it meant to her mother to always look her best.
Tessa was distracted by an oddly grateful glance from her mother. With a bit more firmness in her manner, Joan managed at last to take Blaize’s hand. “Well, uh, you’d better come in, Mr. Callagan.”
At least her mother hadn’t quite melted on the spot, Tessa thought. Of course, that wouldn’t have been right or proper. Joan Stockton fluttered, waving an invitation, and Blaize instantly got Tessa moving into the house.
She gave her mother a quick hug on the way to the living room. “It’s okay, Mum,” she whispered. “You’re looking good. You always do.”
“Thank you, Tessa.” She sounded truly grateful.
Her father was in his favourite armchair, watching a Sunday night movie on the television. “Mortimer...” her mother warned stridently. “You won’t believe this, but we have a visitor.”
He looked up, saw Tessa and Blaize, and hurriedly rose to his feet. “If you like,” he suggested brightly, “I could turn the television off.’’
His wife confirmed that the idea was a good one. “Yes, Mortimer, do that.”
He stabbed his finger at the remote-control device on the armrest of his chair, straightened up then looked questioningly at his youngest daughter.
“Dad,” Tessa began again. “This is Blaize Callagan. My father, Mortimer Stockton.”
Her father looked Tessa’s new man up and down as Blaize stepped forward to offer his hand. Her father wasn’t the same with other men or women as he was with his wife. From a man he would never take a backward step. Only his adored wife had any right over the way he thought and how he thought it.
Tessa was proud of her father. He might have been a carpenter all his life, but he was a true craftsman with all the confidence and dignity that being a master of his job gave him. He took Blaize’s hand strongly, but he did look somewhat overwhelmed by the presence of the man who had come among them.
But she had won today, Tessa reminded herself with deep satisfaction. She had set the terms and Blaize had gone for the white.
“Mr. Stockton,” he said warmly. “I realise this is a rather late hour to be calling on you...”
“It is a bit,” her father managed. “But where Tessa is concerned... well, that’s fine.”
“Very well said, Mr. Stockton. It’s what I expected of you.” Blaize was putting on his most genial soothing manner. Tessa had seen it at work during the mealtimes at the conference. “Tessa has to come first,” he said. “That’s precisely what I thought. I’m glad we agree about that.”
Which surprised her mother and father no end.
“Well...” said Joan Stockton uncertainly. She had never thought like that and she couldn’t see where it was leading to.
Blaize took over. “I understand from Tessa that you’ve had an upsetting weekend. With the cancellation of the wedding.” He shot a sympathetic look at Joan Stockton. “That was too bad.”
“Oh, very bad,” said Joan.
“So I thought it best not to waste any time correcting such a distasteful situation,” Blaize said helpfully.
Joan Stockton looked confused. “What can be done?” She slid into one of her nervous anxiety moods. “There is nothing that can be done,” she answered herself rhetorically.
“Oh, yes, there is, Mrs. Stockton,” Blaize assured her. He turned to her husband. “Mr. Stockton, there are a lot of fools in this world, but I’m not one of them. I want to marry Tessa. I’ve come to ask for your permission. Tessa has consented to marry me, and I’d like your blessing on that. And yours, too, Mrs. Stockton. I want to get this right, straight from the start.”
He flashed his dazzling smile.
Tessa saw her mother go weak at the knees.
“Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.” She fanned herself. She was definitely suffering a hot flush.
Mortimer glanced at his wife for help. Joan Stockton was beyond giving it. She was totally bewildered. All her sacredly held principles on how a woman should act had been shattered by Tessa. She didn’t know whether this new marriage proposal was the work of the devil. Mortimer Stockton got no help from his wife.
He took a momentous decision. For the first time since he was married, he took an independent stance. He looked hard at Tessa, refusing to be swayed by the man at her side. “Well, sweetheart, do you want this man, or are you being railroaded into marriage?”
Tessa had to tell the truth. It meant too much to her father. “I guess it’s a bit like you and Mum, Dad. I need him.”
Mortimer Stockton nodded sagely. He understood that. His eyes lifted to the man his daughter needed. “Then, Mr. Callagan... Blaize... it’s fine by me,” he said firmly.
“Thank you, sir,” Blaize said respectfully.
Mortimer Stockton relaxed. “Tessa’s a good girl,” he said.
Tessa smiled. She loved her father dearly.
“I appreciate that, Mr. Stockton,” Blaize said, “and she’s the right one for me.” He drew her forward into the crook of his arm, taking up the stance of a man in firm possession. “Tessa and I are agreed that the wedding should go ahead in six weeks’ time. The only difference will be that I’m the groom. If we have your approval.’’