Page 46 of A Sonata for the Fiery Lady
“Good day, Lady Stanton,” Oliver said in greeting as he bowed to the woman. Even though Oliver now outranked Lady Stanton, Melisa appreciated Oliver showing such kindness.
“Good day, my boy. How much I owe you for saving my daughter from that terrible man. Though I would have not liked you to have travelled so far, I am now pleased with the way things have gone,” Lady Stanton said. Oliver couldn’t help smiling as he nodded his head in agreement.
“We have much to look forward to, now,” Oliver replied as he took a seat next to the settee, taking Melisa’s hand in his.
As the group settled into the room, a tea tray was delivered to the room, allowing everyone to enjoy a morning cup of tea as there things were settled in the bedchambers above. Cook even had a small sandwich tray made up, allowing everyone to eat something other than salted pork.
“I don’t believe I’ll ever set foot on another ship again,” Lord Stanton declared as he bit into his small sandwich, letting out a long sigh of pleasure. The room quickly filled with soft laughter as they watched Lord Stanton enjoy his food.
After a while, the Davone family excused themselves to rest and refresh after their trip. Though Melisa longed to find the comfort of her bed once more, she knew that it would be important to have a few minutes alone with her parents and Oliver. After bidding the family farewell for the time being, Melisa then turned her attention to her parents.
“Father, Mother. You must let us know the state of your affairs. I fear that housing the Davone family may put you out,” Melisa spoke up.
Lord Stanton exchanged a glance with his wife before nodding his head in agreement. “I will not disagree with you there, my dear. Even with the funds you have already returned to me, I fear that we must return to our country seat and sell the townhouse to another,” Lord Stanton admitted in a grave voice.
“I fear that it is too far into winter to be travelling to the country. The chance of being caught in a winter storm is too great. Surely things will be suitable till the spring?” Melisa wondered. But as Lord Stanton shook his head, Melisa feared the worst.
“I’m afraid that many of my business partners ousted me once our reputation turned for the worse. All I have left is our country seat and the land rentals from the farmers and village. It seems that we shall spend the remainder of our days in the country,” Lord Stanton explained sorrowfully. Melisa felt for her parents, knowing how much they preferred to be in town.
“Perhaps there is something I could do to help once I’ve successfully reclaimed my father’s title. I’m sure the Prescott estate is in tragedy with my father being absent for so many years, but I’m certain I’ll have more means to help once all has been discovered,” Oliver spoke up. His words made Melisa’s heart sore with pride as she listened to her husband. It seemed that every day he found some way to remind her just how much she loved him.
“I appreciate your kindness, Lord Quinn. Let us first discover the condition of your own estate before we can focus on mine. After all, there is a solution to this matter, even if it’s a less desirable one,” Lady Stanton said with a small smile.
“Indeed. Let us go and rest for the day since there isn’t much that can be done for the moment,” Melisa agreed.
“Certainly, my dear. You must be exhausted from your travels,” Lady Stanton said as she stood with her daughter. Her mother hugged her once more, a happy smile on her face.
“And I shall call upon Magistrate O’Reilly today. He will want to know we’ve returned and help us arrange a hearing in the royal court to plead your case, Lord Quinn,” Lord Stanton said as he remained seated, obviously tired as well.
“Thank you, Lord Stanton,” Oliver said before escorting Melisa from the room.
“It is hard to believe that it is still morning and I’m already so exhausted,” Melisa said as she walked with Oliver towards the staircase.
“That is because everything is sure to be overwhelming. It’s winter, after all, and neither one of us expected to be returning to England till the spring,” Oliver reasoned as they made their way up the stairs. “But I will say that I’m excited to see your room,” Oliver added in a soft tone.
Melisa couldn’t help giggling as she led him to her bedchamber, opening the door to reveal that all her things had been left the way she’d last seen them. It warmed her heart to think that deep down her parents had loved her after all.
A warm fire burned in the fireplace, the room nice and warm as Oliver closed the door behind them. Already their trunks had been brought up to the room, and Melisa couldn’t help wondering what had become of Miss Thorsten after her departure. She dearly missed the young lady and hoped to see her again soon. But as Oliver closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her as he brought her over to the bed, all that Melisa could think of was spending the next few hours in the arms of passion with her husband.
Chapter 25
As Oliver stepped into the royal courtroom, he felt his palms go sweaty. Never before would he have ever thought that a commoner such as himself would ever need to appear before such men of society. And even with Magistrate O’Reilly by his side, he felt very nervous.
“Hear ye, hear ye!” cried the caller as Oliver approached the central podium. “Lord Quinn, son of the Earl of Prescott, appearing before his royal honour in petition for the title of Earl and the estate of Prescott.” Murmuring sounded throughout the room as Oliver arrived at the podium before the highchair where the royal judge resided with his long white wig, curled down around his shoulders. Magistrate O’Reilly stood a few paces behind Oliver, several documents in his hand.
“Good day, Lord Quinn,” said the judge as he peered over his perch and down at Oliver. “It appears that the long-lost Earl of Prescott had a son.”
“Indeed, your honour. My father did return from the Napoleon Wars some thirty years ago under the name of Mr Quinn, employing himself at the cobblers of Mr Mathews, and having married my mother. It was only until my father was murdered, by his brother, Mr Oliver Quinn, that the truth of the matter was shared with me,” Oliver explained. Gasps filled the air from the onlookers as Oliver watched the judge’s eyebrows rise.
“The first son of the Prescott estate was always a foul thing,” the royal judge replied with distaste in his name. “It is no wonder that your grandfather left the estate to his second son, your father.” Oliver stilled at the news, wondering what other dark secrets this man knew of his family. “What proof do you have that you are indeed Lord Quinn’s son?” the royal judge then asked.
It was Magistrate O’Reilly who swiftly approached the royal judge and began to present the documents he’d prepared. “Your honour,” Oliver spoke up. “May I introduce you to Magistrate O’Reilly. He was instrumental at piecing this puzzle together after my father was mysteriously murdered. I give credit to this man for uncovering the truth about my father and aiding me in my dream to restore the Prescott name.”
Oliver watched as the royal judge nodded his head, mumbling something to himself as he reviewed the documents. “Thank you, magistrate,” the royal judge said as he handed back the documents. Magistrate O’Reilly bowed humbly before taking up his position behind Oliver.
“It seems, Lord Quinn, that the proper documents have been presented at this time. And with your surname being Oliver, a traditional Prescott name, I can’t deny that you are indeed Lord Quinn, heir to the Prescott estate, and entitled to all that your father did have, to include the title of Earl,” the royal judge declared, smacking his gavel against the wooden railing before him.
“To Lord Quinn!” rang out the onlookers as Oliver bowed himself before the royal judge.
