Page 28 of A Sonata for the Fiery Lady
“How splendid,” Melisa replied as she handed the letter back, forcing a smile onto her face. “I have never been to the opera before and would dearly like to go.” Melisa was finding it easier and easier to lie to her parents. Perhaps she’d inherited this straight from them since they always pretended to be a loving couple in public but often bickered at home.
“What a lovely evening we shall have,” Lady Stanton said with a loud sigh. “Don’t you agree, my dear?”
Lord Stanton looked up from his soup and regarded his wife for a moment before nodding his head and returning to his meal. This only caused Lady Stanton to sigh once more before she, too, started to enjoy the meal.
As her mother continued to chatter about this and that, Melisa’s mind was filled with panic. She couldn’t possibly attend the opera with the Duke and her parents and still feel ready enough to leave that night as well. It would be exhausting to spend an entire evening at the opera, sitting in disgust of being near the Duke once more. Melisa hoped that she was done having to be in the same room as the man and was already counting down the hours till she could make her great escape. Melisa knew that her only hope of being prepared would be to take sick and avoid going out at all Wednesday night. After all, there was one more thing she needed to do that she wasn’t even willing to share with Miss Thorsten.
“How was your day, my dear?” Lord Stanton spoke up. At first, Melisa thought her father was speaking to his wife, but as Melisa glanced up, she was surprised to have her father’s eyes on her.
“It was uneventful, Father. I paid a call to Miss Winters again, and then did a bit of shopping. Miss Thorsten was kind enough to escort me about town today,” Melisa said, hoping a little truth in her lie would be believable.
“I haven’t seen any letters from the merchants. How are you paying for your shopping?” Lord Stanton asked.
“You’re very gracious with the allowance you give me, Father. I have very little to spend money on and often save my coins for special occasions,” Melisa replied, hoping to pacify her father. He simply nodded his head in reply as he returned to his meal.
“You are wise to save your money, my dear, because the Duke will no doubt be happy to have a frugal wife,” Lady Stanton said as she praised Melisa. Lord Stanton hmphed then, causing both Lady Stanton and Melisa to look his way.
“What was that sound for?” Lady Stanton demanded. Melisa worried that her parents were on the brink of bickering again, but she, too, was curious.
“It is nothing, my dear. We will discuss it later,” Lord Stanton said, regret clearly on his face as he patted his wife’s hand.
“Father, I want to know as well,” Melisa spoke up.
Lord Stanton sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture that Melisa had never seen him do before. It surprised her and concerned her even more.
“It is just a rumour, my dears, nothing more,” Lord Stanton said as he looked to his wife, then to Melisa. “I heard one of the guests at Magistrate O’Reilly’s dinner party saying that the Duke is having some financial issues and might not be as wealthy as everyone thinks he is.”
Lady Stanton gasped in shock as she observed her husband. “Well, that simply can’t be true. Just think of the amount those jewels cost him that he gifted to Melisa. Damn the soul who stole them,” Lady Stanton said with disgust in her voice.
“Like I said my dear, just a rumour. It’s hard to imagine a man of that status not being wealthy,” Lord Stanton surmised as they all returned to their meal.
But as Melisa sat and thought about the rumour, it reminded her of something the Duke had said not that long ago. That sometimes things are not always what they seem.
Chapter 17
The night had finally come where Oliver would get to see Melisa again. The last few days had passed so slowly that he feared that Wednesday night would never come. Oliver had sold the last of his extra possessions and had cleared the apartment of any personal items. He planned to leave the key to the new lock on the table, allowing his landlord to find the apartment open and available easy enough. All that he had left was a trunk full of personal items and clothes – hopefully everything he would need to start a new life abroad.
Now, as night approached, Oliver began to pace in the apartment. He didn’t know which part of the night that Melisa would arrive, but he began to hope with every fibre of his body that the hour would draw close when he’d be able to wrap his arms around the young lady he’d fallen in love with.
It felt a little strange to Oliver to have fallen in love in such a short time that it took a while for his mind to catch up with his heart. Deep within him, he knew that what he was feeling was love. It was the same love and passion he felt when he played the piano, his whole body being filled with light and hope, with joy and comfort. That was how it felt when he was with Melisa, and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life together with her.
Having denied any more performances, Oliver was eager to slip out of town. He may never know who killed his father, but that fact meant little to Oliver now. He knew that his father was dead, and that he had nothing holding him in England any longer. And just the thought of Melisa marrying the horrible Duke caused Oliver to feel anger he’d never known before. To think the man would threaten her life before they’d even been married caused Oliver to think of the Duke in a new, darker light. He even felt proud of rescuing Melisa from such a fate and whisking her away to a foreign country. Together, they’d be able to create a new life together, free from society’s ever watchful eye.
Oliver ran his hand through his brown hair as he pulled the pocket watch from his vest. It was one of the few items he’d kept from his father’s room. He opened it and saw that the time was nearing eight o’clock. Oliver shut the watch and pocketed it once more before he began to pace again, silently praying that Melisa wouldn’t run into any trouble tonight reaching him.
~*~
Melisa lay in bed a good hour after her parents had left with the Duke in her carriage to attend the opera. She’d done a good job at convincing them that she was not well, and Miss Thorsten was quick to say that Melisa had already thrown up twice. Lady Stanton was very phobic of sickness and was quick to send Melisa to bed to get well.
“You must regain your health for the wedding this Saturday, my dear,” Lady Stanton had told her before leaving her bedchamber. Melisa had sighed with relief as she got into bed.
“Once your parents have gone off to bed, I’ll return to help you dress,” Miss Thorsten had said quietly to Melisa before she’d left the bedchamber as well. So now, Melisa lay in bed in her nightclothes, looking up at the ceiling of her room as candlelight danced across it.
“This will be the last night in this room,” Melisa said out loud to herself as she let her fingers brush over the blankets and pillows. They were soft, plush, and luxurious, and she knew that it was unlikely that she would ever feel such finery again. Melisa was ready to descend the ranks of society, being forced to earn an income the rest of her days in exchange for her freedom. And though she’d been able to gather almost five-hundred pounds, a sizeable yearly income, she knew that it wouldn’t last forever and that she couldn’t spend it frivolously.
Melisa took several calming breaths as she pictured Oliver in her mind. She imagined his face, his tall features, and broad shoulders. She remembered how she felt being embraced by him, being pulled close to his body as he kissed her. Melisa smiled at the thought, knowing that in a few hours she’d be able to kiss him again and reunite the passion she felt for Oliver. She’d memorized his address and the details of their voyage, burning his note when she’d had the chance. Though she never knew that love and passion would make her feel like this, she was thankful to be able to experience it in her lifetime.
As Melisa lay in bed, she was surprised to hear the front door opening. She didn’t expect her parents home for another hour or two, and so she hurried from her bed to listen closely at the door. However, as she pressed her ear to the woodwork, she heard nothing more other than the sound of the door closing again.
