Page 1 of A Sonata for the Fiery Lady
Chapter 1
Could today really be the day, Melisa thought as she woke to the sound of the grandfather clock striking seven o’clock. She opened her eyes to the morning sun with fright in her heart, the day she’d been dreading since she was twelve coming at last. And no matter how hard Melisa had prayed that this day would simply not happen, it seemed that her fervent prayers had gone unanswered.
Melisa was slow to rise, remaining in bed till she could hear the grandfather clock down the hallway chiming that eight o’clock had now come. She was holding the covers close to her body, the warmth like a shield from what was about to happen.She wondered if she could remain here, that if she laid still that no one would come for her or want to prepare her for the awful event that was scheduled to take place this evening.But eventually nature called, the calling too strong to ignore. Therefore, forcing Melisa finally from her bed.
After taking care of the necessity, she pulled the servants’ cord by her bed, signalling that she was awake and ready to prepare for the day. But all that Melisa did was slump down into a chair by the window that allowed her a view of the gardens below. Perhaps if she could imagine she was a bird, then Melisa could simply transform and fly right out the window. That was the thought she was preoccupied with when her lady-in-waiting came into her bedchamber.
“Good morning, Miss Melisa. How did you sleep?” Miss Thorsten asked as she came into the room, carrying a tea tray that she placed on the small table next to Melisa before going to the bed to make it for the day.
“I slept well enough, thank you,” Melisa replied as she poured herself a cup of tea and held it in her lap, not really wanting to drink it but enjoying the warmth in her hands. She kept her eyes on the gardens below, watching the birds fly by her window as Miss Thorsten busied herself around the room.
“Lord and Lady Stanton should be down for breakfast shortly. Shall we get you dressed so you can join them, Miss Melisa?” Miss Thorsten asked once her task had been completed.
“I will take my breakfast in my room today, Miss Thorsten. I will decide afterwards if I’m ready to dress for the day,” Melisa replied as she set her teacup aside, not having drank a single drop. Melisa finally turned her eyes towards her lady-in-waiting. Miss Thorsten looked at her charge wearily.
“Are you sure, Miss Melisa? Are you ill at all?” Miss Thorsten asked, concerned about the young lady.
“No, Miss Thorsten, I am not ill. I am simply not ready to go down and will want to take breakfast in my room,” Melisa said sternly. As she looked at the woman, who didn’t appear much older than her seventeen years, she thought that perhaps she could trade places with the servant and avoid it all.
“Certainly, Miss Melisa. My mistake,” Miss Thorsten replied with a curtsey before quickly leaving the room and shutting the door.
Alone again, Melisa turned her eyes once more to the gardens below. The rising sun highlighted the many rose bushes, a plant that her mother had been impertinent about having the gardener grow. It was one of the many things that her mother liked to show off to her friends and dinner guests, so much so that Melisa had stopped taking to the gardens because it reminded her of one more thing that her parents had done simply to show off to others.
“Perhaps that’s why I have no friends,” Melisa thought aloud. Perhaps other young ladies didn’t want to associate with a family that was too showy, too concerned with what other families said about them. Or maybe it was the fact that Melisa wasn’t like other young ladies. Indeed, normally young ladies looked forward to Seasons in Town, getting invited to balls in order to meet eligible gentlemen, having the opportunity to fall in love and decide for themselves who’d they marry.
“God, why was I born into this family?” Melisa asked, something she did when she was alone and had no one else to talk to. “Why do I have no control over my own destiny?”
It was a question Melisa had prayed about quite often. If Melisa had been able to keep any friends, perhaps she would have confided in them instead of praying to a being who rarely answered her. But when you’re a young lady who doesn’t attend balls and dinner parties because her fate has already been decided, because her parents feel that it’s appropriate for her to remain home while they answer to the many invitations their family receives, one tends to become very lonely, and very desperate. Therefore, she’d taken to praying anytime she needed to talk to someone openly.
Though her parents weren’t very religious, they’d always attended Sunday services to keep up appearances as God-fearing people.It was only Melisa who seemed to rely on prayer to help her deal with her raging emotions. And now as she sat staring out her bedroom window, she fought against the need to cry.
“Heavenly Father, give me strength this day. Help me to overcome these emotions and do what is required of me. Help me to find happiness in all of this desolation,” Melisa whispered as she heard footsteps coming down the hallway towards her door.
Miss Thorsten returned then carrying a breakfast try. She set it across from Melisa, picking up the tea tray that had been left untouched. Melisa didn’t even look at her lady-in-waiting as she moved about the room.
“Anything else I can do for you, Miss Melisa?” Miss Thorsten asked as she stood by the door.
“After breakfast, I care to enjoy a relaxing bath before dressing for the day. Then I’ll want a walking gown so that I might take a stroll through the park,” Melisa said, finally turning her focus on the other woman.
She watched as Miss Thorsten’s brows furrowed. “But Miss, certainly you wouldn’t want to be out in the sun today. You wouldn’t want to risk getting too much sun before the ball this evening,” Miss Thorsten reasoned.
Usually, Melisa could hide her inner emotions quite well. But at this moment, she was tired of working so hard to keep them at bay. Her eyes watered as she thought about how she just wanted to do as she pleased without being reasoned with. “I’ll be sure to make it a short trip, Miss Thorsten. But I’d dearly like some fresh air today,” Melisa said, trying to keep her voice level.
Miss Thorsten simply nodded her head as she curtsied, but Melisa could still see the frown on her face as she left the room. Her lady-in-waiting had always been very attentive, a kind woman who might even be considered the closest person she had to a friend. But it would be quite unusual for Melisa to consider a servant a friend. After all, Miss Thorsten only did her job for the promised pay from an Earl. This was certainly a good position for any servant Miss Thorsten’s age.
As Melisa turned her gaze back to the gardens, the breakfast tray in front of her not seeming to induce any appetite, she imagined what she would rather be doing today if it had been just another ordinary day. Perhaps she’d go riding, despite the fact that her mother had deemed one of her favourite pleasures very unladylike. She loved her mare and the feel of the open road in front of her, no one around to tell her how to act or what she should be doing instead with her leisure time.
Or, Melisa would spend time with one of her many tutors, practicing her knowledge of the modern languages and discussing worldly things. Since her father had spared no expense when it came to her education, determining that a future Duchess needed the best upbringing, Melisa had taken to learning all that she could, simply because it gave her a way to forget about her reality. And since her parents didn’t speak any other language besides English, then she was free to discuss whatever she pleased with her tutors. Indeed, today would have been a fine day to speak to Monsieur Philip about the current events in France as she daydreamed of one day travelling to Paris. Even though she knew that the Duke did not travel, she could at least dream about seeing all the countries she’d studied. And perhaps she could find a way to travel alone once she rose in rank within society. Surely no one would speak ill about a Duchess.
“Will I find happiness in my new situation?” Melisa wondered out loud, as though there was someone in the room that could answer her. Though she’d been also trained in how to manage a household of servants, entertain dinner guests, and plan menus, Melisa wondered if there would be more to married life, and perhaps she could still enjoy some pleasures of the world. But no matter how positive Melisa tried to think in order to overcome her emotions for this evening, she couldn’t imagine the Duke giving her any more leeway than her parents currently did.
Her thoughts then turned to this evening, to the ball she would be attending in order for her father to make the big announcement she’d been dreading since her parents first told her of the betrothal when she’d just turned twelve. For five years she’d been dreading marrying the Duke of Avertin, Lord Smithers. The gentleman had never appealed to her, despite his status in society. And though her mother had swooned over the fact that her daughter would be well off in life, Melisa thought it was the worst thing that could happen to her. It was all her mother had spoken of these last five years, another thing to brag about to her friends.
The worst thing that Melisa could do was picture Lord Smithers in her mind, but the more she thought about the ball that was being thrown in her honour, the more she thought about seeing the Duke this evening. He’d always been an imposing figure, tall with dark hair and even darker eyes. He reminded her more of a crow than a person with his hooked nose and slightly large belly. It was not hard to fathom that Lord Smithers was glutinous for the pleasures of the world. After all, he could afford anything he could ever dream of. But no matter what the man could afford, he’d never appealed to Melisa. She couldn’t even think of him as a close acquaintance. She’d spent so little time with the man that all she could learn about him was what she’d heard from others.
Servants had always been gossipers, a fact that Melisa learned from a young age when her nanny tattled on Melisa for riding her pony bareback, her legs astride. She’d received a tongue lashing from her father for that moment of freedom, teaching Melisa that she could never trust a servant. But it was through servants that she learned much about other members of society since all servants gossiped to one another about their masters. That was how Melisa came to learn what kind of gentleman Lord Smithers truly was.
She’d heard rumours of his lavish dinner parties, hiring cooks from France to prepare the latest in cuisine. That he’d offer the finest wine to his dinner guests, and when they’d become too tipsy, he’d take advantage of young ladies he’d get alone.
