Page 13 of A Sonata for the Fiery Lady
“I’m sorry for the lack of information, your honour, but I know of no one that harboured any ill will towards my father. He was a kind, hardworking man whom everyone loved,” Oliver said. His mind wandered then back to what he’d learned after spending an evening at Luthiers.
“I took the time to visit Luthiers the night after his death,” Oliver spoke up, catching the magistrate’s attention. “I wanted to learn for myself if anyone knew of someone out to harm my father. And I know I’m not a constable, your honour, I’m simply a man who wants answers and hopes that no one is after me, too.”
“Understandable, my boy. Go on,” the magistrate assured.
“The madam at the entrance introduced me to the card table my father often frequented. There, I met a few of his acquaintances. They were sympathetic towards his passing, but one fellow mentioned that perhaps my father secretly had large wealth. If he did, however, I never knew about it and have yet to be solicited about the fortune,” Oliver said as he remembered the ringed man.
“Yes, that is very interesting,” Magistrate O’Reilly said as he continued to rub his chin. Oliver watched as his eyes danced around the room, as though in deep thought. “There are many mysterious here, but I’m known for my ability to solve deep secrecies.”
“Like a detective?” Oliver asked, growing more curious about the magistrate.
“I’m no Bow Street Runner, but I do have my fingers in enough men’s pockets that information is easy for me to gather. Come, let us share a meal, and I’ll have Mr Hilton bring in some writing paper. I want you to write out for me all that you know thus far, and I’ll arrange a meeting with this Constable Williams to gain his insight as well. Surely, we can put the puzzle pieces together,” Magistrate O’Reilly said as he rose.
“Thank you, sir. I’m eternally grateful for your willingness to help me. I’d be happy to pay you whatever your fee is,” Oliver said as he stood with the magistrate, feeling truly hopeful that perhaps now he could actually get some answers.
“I’m sure we can find a suitable trade, Mr Quinn. As a sought-after musician, I’d be happy to trade my services for yours. Are you free this Saturday evening? I’ll be hosting a dinner party with all of my favourite clients, to include Lord Stanton himself,” Magistrate O’Reilly explained as he gestured towards Oliver to follow him. The two left the parlour as the magistrate led Oliver further into the house and towards what looked to be a dining room.
“I’d be happy to perform during the dinner party, Magistrate O’Reilly,” Oliver said. “It would be my honour.” And though Oliver was grateful for the magistrate’s help, and offering to share a meal with Oliver, he worried that the magistrate would discover during the dinner party that Lord Stanton had not referred Oliver to the magistrate, that it had been Miss Melisa. Oliver feared the truth being discovered, that he had met alone with Miss Melisa in the park while she’d been unchaperoned. Right then and there, Oliver promised himself never to spend the night walking again because it seemed to inhibit his good judgement.
“Mr Hilton, please have writing paper brought into the dining room along with the afternoon meal for myself and Mr Quinn,” the magistrate said as they met the serviceman in the hallway. “And please have Constable Williams brought by to have a little chat. I’ll also need Mr Pittman, as well.” Oliver watched as Mr Hilton’s eyebrows rose at the mention of Mr Pittman, making Oliver wonder who this man was.
“Absolutely, your honour. I’ll have those two gentlemen called upon at once, and I’ll tell Cook to prepare an extra plate for Mr Quinn,” Mr Hilton replied, resting his eyes on Oliver for a moment, wondering why the man was still here and dining with his master, no doubt.
“Very good, Mr Hilton. This way, Mr Quinn,” Magistrate O’Reilly gestured as they came into the dining room. As they were settled and served, Oliver began to write down his statement on the pieces of writing paper Mr Hilton brought him, along with a quill and pen. Never before had Oliver been exposed to such luxury before as he dined with the magistrate, always viewing from afar the fine cuisine his employers often enjoyed at dinner parties and balls. And thankfully he’d been taught to read and write when he started learning to play the piano or he would have had a difficult time relaying his story.
But as Oliver continued to speak with the magistrate over their meal, he started to wonder that perhaps he had other worries to add on top of the fact that his father had been murdered. Though he’d arranged to meet Miss Melisa in the park the next morning, something he truly looked forward to before having to attend his father’s death, he also knew that he needed to be careful. She was a lady, after all, and an engaged one at that. It wasn’t the most proper thing to do, but in a world where things seemed so uncertain for Oliver, he felt the need to find moments of peace and pleasure when he could get the opportunity.
Chapter 9
When the next morning came, Melisa felt a pinprick of hope in her heart as she looked forward to a part of her day. She’d have to ready herself again, but shortly she could be conversing with Mr Quinn. And though she knew that such a thing would be highly frowned upon if she were ever discovered, and would possibly be gossiped about as being rather scandalous, Melisa could not deny the fact that simply talking with a kind gentleman brought her comfort when she had very little in her home.
The sun was barely rising over the horizon as Melisa quickly got out of bed and began to ready herself for her morning walk. She chose simple clothing for her little adventure, not wanting to be recognized for her wealth, but perhaps mistaken for a maid. Melisa decided not to wear any fancy ribbons in her hair or around her waist, instead settling for a muslin dress and allowing her blonde hair to fall naturally down her back. As she reviewed her work in the looking glass, Melisa figured she could be considered quite common and hoped that the disguise would be in her favour.
With her small reticule hanging from her wrist, Melisa stepped from her room slowly, peeking up and down the hallway to ensure no one was coming. When there was only silence, she shut her bedchamber door and started down the hallway. But the moment she reached the stairs, she heard Miss Thorsten coming up them.
“I’m simply worried that Miss Melisa will try to sneak out of the house again on her own. I fear for her well-being, more so with the engagement to that dreadful Duke,” Miss Thorsten said as though she was speaking to someone else. Melisa quickly ducked into a spare bedchamber, allowing the door to remain slightly open so the click of shutting the door wouldn’t bring any attention to her. Melisa watched from the crack in the door as her heart pounded against her chest. She’d hate to be discovered and receive a tongue lashing from either her lady-in-waiting or her parents if Miss Thorsten snitched on her.
Miss Thorsten walked by then with another maid, a young girl that Melisa didn’t recognize. She figured that the young lady was new. “Why do you think Miss Melisa snuck off yesterday morning? Where could she possibly go on her own?” the mysterious maid asked.
Melisa watched as Miss Thorsten shrugged her shoulders, nearing her bedchamber. “I simply do not know, but I pray she won’t be so foolish again. If Lord and Lady Stanton discovered Miss Melisa missing, I’d be fired for sure,” Miss Thorsten said as they stopped before her bedchamber. Melisa held her breath in her chest as Miss Thorsten pressed her ear up against the door, seeming to listen for any signs of Melisa.
“She must be sleeping still,” the maid said as she watched Miss Thorsten with her eyebrows furrowed together, as though she was curious what the woman was doing.
“I don’t know. I feel I should go inside and check,” Miss Thorsten said as she placed her hand on the handle of the door. Melisa could hear the blood in her head pounding as she tried to breath, fearing she’d soon be discovered.
“Let us not disturb her, Miss Thorsten. I fear she would only be angered. The poor thing has to soon marry a despicable man. Let her rest soundly while she still can,” said the maid as she rested her hand on Miss Thorsten’s, pulling it away from the door. Melisa let out a long breath, feeling quite overwhelmed as she helplessly watched from the other room.
“You’re right, Miss Price. We shall check on her if she hasn’t woken by the time the master has come down for breakfast,” Miss Thorsten reasoned as they continued down the hallway.
Melisa didn’t waste a second more. She stepped from behind the door and rushed down the hallway towards the stairs, taking them quickly till she reached the foyer. She tried to focus on her breathing as she opened the front door and stepped outside, only feeling safe once the door was closed behind her and she could get as far away from the house as possible.
Melisa tried to reason with herself as she made her way down the street, heading for the park where she planned to meet Mr Quinn. Even if her parents discovered she’d been outside by herself, at least she could explain to them that she’d only gone to the park. She wasn’t riding down the street, easily seen by all. She was out early enough that no other member of the Ton would ever know she’d done such a daring thing as to be about town without an escort.
She even chuckled to herself as she stepped through the park’s gates, taking the path that led deeper into the park and away from the main path. Melisa found it rather odd that she’d need any escorts now that she was engaged and had little business to attend to. She was rather capable of taking care of herself and feared little of anything happening so early in the morning.
Her heart began to beat in her chest as she rounded a bend and spotted the bench from yesterday. Already Mr Quinn sat there, a humble meal in his hands of dates and fresh bread.
“Good morning, Miss Melisa,” Mr Quinn spoke as he looked up to see Melisa coming down the path. He made room on the bench as he handed her a handful of dates.
