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Authors: Kathryn Kirkwood

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BOOK: Match For Melissa
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Jane swept off, followed by Dorothea, but Regina lagged behind for a private word with Melissa. “I do apologize for Mama’s perfunctory treatment of you, Lissa. Though she does not see fit to thank you, Doro and I are appreciative of the sacrifice you have made on our behalf.”

“Thank you, Gina.” Melissa smiled. “And it is not such a sacrifice, after all. I possess the perfect vantage point to commit all the latest styles to memory and I have already planned how to alter several of your gowns.”

Regina nodded, but she still appeared anxious. “But you should not be required to do tasks like that, Lissa. Doro and I had a brief moment alone to speak of it, and we both hold the opinion that Mama’s treatment of you is shameful.”

“It is kind in you to tell me, Gina, but you must not concern yourself on my account.”

“But we
are
concerned, Lissa.” Regina took a deep breath. “Doro and I have joined in a promise. The first of us to marry will invite you to be a part of her household. There you will be regarded as a dear sister and not an unpaid servant!”

Melissa smiled, cast a quick glance around to make certain they were unobserved, and gave Regina a fond hug. “Thank
you, Gina. And please thank Doro for me as well. Now you must go. Your mother will be expecting you to join her.”

When Regina had left, Lissa was presented with what appeared to be an endless parade of cloaks, pelisses, hats, and coats. At long last, the final guests arrived and the evening’s entertainment commenced. Melissa took a moment to return her cap and apron to the servants’ cupboard and then she hurried to fetch Regina’s cloak.

A large balcony overlooked the formal gardens. Melissa opened the doors to the balcony and took Regina’s new cloak out to the rail to brush it thoroughly. Fortunately, the splattered mud had not damaged the delicate silk material and it was a simple matter to brush it out with a soft cloth until no trace remained.

The night was growing chill and Melissa slipped her stepsister’s cloak over her shoulders. She was certain that Regina would not begrudge her the use of it for a few moments. Though she had completed her assigned tasks for the evening, Melissa was loath to return to the town house and her solitary pursuits.

Under the wrap of protective darkness, Melissa gave free rein to her favorite dream. Standing on the balcony at the Beckworth Mansion, dressed in her stepsister’s exquisite cloak and listening to the strains of music from the ballroom that floated through the still night air, Melissa felt almost as if she were a debutante enjoying this glittering evening.

The soft black night was enticing and Melissa leaned against the rail, gazing up at the stars. The orchestra was playing a new waltz, and she hugged herself tightly in the darkness. How she should love to be a part of the merriment and gaiety in the ballroom! Though she had not been formally trained in the figures of this dance, Melissa had observed her stepsisters at lessons with their dancing master and she had no doubt that she could perform the waltz to satisfaction.

As Melissa stood there, imagining that the handsome gentleman she had seen in the park had asked her to stand up with him, her feet began to move in the patterns of the waltz. They
would dance for a moment and then he would smile down at her, praising her for her grace and style. She would accept his compliment modestly, remarking that any grace he attributed to her must be due, in full measure, to his own expertise. He would be taken with her ways and request a second dance. And when the orchestra had stopped playing, he would request a third. She would be required to remind him, with her lips curving upwards in a lovely smile and her eyes glinting with delightful amusement, that a third dance with the same gentleman should be considered most improper. He would forgo dancing for the remainder of the evening, standing against the wall with a yearning countenance, observing her closely as she danced with other young gentlemen. Before the night was over, his heart would be firmly engaged and he would offer for her at the first opportunity.

Melissa sighed softly as her feet moved to the soft strains of the orchestra. Fully engaged in this most wondrous dream of her own making, reality faded to a brief flicker and after a time she became perfectly oblivious to the world around her.

The Duke of Oakwood found he quickly had his fill of pretty young ladies and waltzes. This Season’s opening ball was no different from last Season’s, or the one before it. Perhaps Robert was too jaded to appreciate the beauty of the elaborately decorated ballroom with its glittering chandeliers containing thousands of candles, the superb orchestra, and the lovely flowers that seemed to be everywhere. Once he had dutifully stood up with his mother and performed his turn around the dance floor with his sister, he found himself adamantly wishing that he had not fallen prey to his mother’s scheme and had, instead, insisted upon remaining at home. The lovely young debutantes held no charm for him. Indeed, their postures seemed more tiring than usual and their attempts to flatter him, absurd. True to her word, his mother had not performed any introductions, but Robert knew this respite would not last the length of the evening for
he had observed the chaperones of several young ladies desperately attempting to catch his mother’s eye. The introductions would be made, the amenities duly observed under his mother’s close scrutiny, and he would be required to ask each of them to stand up with him.

After escorting his mother to a comfortable chair beside a potted palm and fetching a glass of champagne for her, Robert bowed and made his excuses. He had left his favorite snuffbox in the pocket of his cape. It would only take a moment to retrieve it and he promised to be back almost before he was missed.

“Excuse me.” Robert caught the eye of a maid in the hallway. “I fear I’ve left something in the pocket of my cape. Could you please direct me to the proper chamber?”

The serving maid bobbed a curtsy and looked up at him boldly with a saucy smile. “Yes, sir. It’s down the grand staircase, the second door to the right. Would you be liking me to help you fetch it, sir?”

“No, that’s not at all necessary.” Robert favored her with a smile. She was a comely wench and obviously eager for his attentions, but he desired no passing dalliance with one of Aunt Sarah’s maids.

Robert soon found the cloak room and began to look for his cape. It took him several minutes, but he found it at last and drew the snuffbox from his pocket. He harbored no desire for this item. His excuse to his mother had been merely a ploy to escape the confines of the ballroom, but he dropped it into his pocket in the event that she should quiz him on whether or not he had located it.

He was engaged in seeking out a deserted chamber where he could enjoy a few moments of solitude before rejoining the crush in the ballroom, when he noticed a young lady on the balcony that ran the length of the house. She was standing alone, wrapped in a cloak, gazing up at the stars overhead. Though he had no wish for social converse at this particular moment, Robert found that he was most curious. Perhaps some young
lady had also grown disenchanted with the ball and was seeking a moment of refuge.

As Robert’s curiosity drew him in her direction, a wealth of scenarios played out in his mind. She could not be one of Aunt Sarah’s maids, taking a respite from her duties. Aunt Sarah’s housekeeper was demanding with her staff. One of her maids would not be so foolish as to stand by idly contemplating the stars where she could be so easily observed.

If she was not a servant, the woman before him must be a lady of quality and it was likely that she had come here to collect her thoughts. If she were in some sort of distress, his duty was clear. As a gentleman of good breeding, it was his obligation to offer his assistance.

Robert’s thoughts turned to the possible cause of her distress. If he found that she had quarreled with her spouse, he would quickly make his excuses and depart. It was never wise to take sides in a squabble between husband and wife. On the other hand, she could be unmarried and distressed over some slight that had been given her.

It was even possible that she was someone of his acquaintance. Robert peered at her intently, but he was unable to reach any positive conclusion. The balcony was in darkness, she had pulled up the hood of her cloak, and it was impossible to discern her features. In any event, he was now only inches from the balcony door and he decided that he must satisfy his curiosity before he took his leave.

Melissa was lost in a perfect dream when reality intruded at the sound of footsteps behind her. Before she could whirl and dash back into the safety of the chamber, a deep voice spoke.

“Are the stars in the heavens more interesting than the company in the ballroom?”

Melissa turned to peer at the tall gentleman who had joined her on the balcony. The moon had not yet risen and she could not see his face. It quickly occurred to her that if she could not
discern his features, he would be at the same disadvantage. Since his voice had held a liberal hint of laughter, Melissa found herself responding in kind. “The stars are indeed preferable, sir. I have enjoyed a most delightful conversation with Cassiopeia.”

“And what did the mother of Andromeda tell you?”

Melissa experienced a jolt of pleasure. Her uninvited companion knew the old myth. She considered her words for one brief moment and then she divulged one of her deepest and most private thoughts. “The stars are timeless, eternal and infinite, qualities we cannot claim as mere mortals. They change slowly, in a predictable manner. She felt that we should take a lesson from their constancy.”

“A bit of wisdom from one glittering Incomparable to another?”

“Hardly, sir!” Melissa laughed softly. “I am a mere speck in the grand scheme of things, scarcely worthy of notice.”

“You are far too modest, madame.” There was a teasing note in his voice. “Tell me your name so that I may know you, and I shall decide whether your assessment of your character is accurate.”

Melissa considered her reply very carefully. It was best that he remain in ignorance of her identity. Her stepmother would never approve of converse with a gentleman to whom she had not been properly introduced and quick to chastise her severely for such an improper action. “Souls in the darkness possess no names. I am merely a voice with no shape to tether it to this earth. Perhaps I am not human at all. You would be none the wiser. Indeed, I can and will be anyone I choose.”

“And who will you choose?”

He sounded intrigued and Melissa smiled into the darkness. “I shall be one of my favorite mythical beings, come to life on this very evening to taste the pleasures of mortality.”

“A lovely sentiment and well stated, but you must tell me which particular mythical being I am addressing.”

Melissa recalled that magical time, so long ago, when her
father had introduced her to the wonder of myths and legends. The baron had told her the old tales and little Melissa had been enthralled. “I shall be Diana, the huntress.”

“Ah! And I am the hunted?” His voice sounded suddenly wary.

“You flatter yourself, sir!” Melissa gave a merry peal of laughter. “Perhaps I shall choose to dally with you for a moment, but I should not bother to hunt you!”

“Others have hunted me and I have successfully escaped their lures.” His words were again light and teasing and Melissa thought he sounded much relieved. “Oh, great Diana, do you not regard me as a worthy catch?”

“Hardly, sir! You must remember that the company I keep is exalted and my mythical companions would regard you with a sad lack of esteem. Their regard is limited to those who have slain armies with a single blow, tamed the lightning to do their bidding, and ridden on the back of the wind.”

He laughed again. “Give me your hand, my goddess, and I shall escort you back to the ballroom. Once there I will show you how to tame the tabbies of the
ton.
It is said to be a far greater task than slaying dragons or commanding the waves.”

“Alas, I cannot go with you, sir.” Melissa sensed that he was about to reach out to grasp her hand and she pulled back quickly. “I am certain I should enjoy it immensely, but my time on this earth is fleeting and my duties are many. I fear you must leave me now.”

The orchestra began to play another waltz and he shook his head. “Not quite yet my famed goddess. Dear Diana, will you give me the pleasure of being my partner in this waltz?”

Bowing low, he extended his arm to Melissa. She hesitated for only the briefest of moments and then she took his arm. There could be no harm in dancing with this delightful stranger. He did not know her identity, nor she his.

Melissa’s heart began to beat faster as he held her in the darkness and they began to dance, fitting into each other’s arms and matching their steps perfectly. It was a magical moment
and Melissa was certain that she would remember it for the remainder of her life. This wonderful stranger was her partner in her very first dance. They did not speak, but moved as one, dipping and swaying across the balcony in flawless rhythm, guided by the lovely strains of the music.

Time seemed to stand still for Melissa. She wished to remain in this stranger’s arms forever. But the music ended, as all music eventually must, and their dance was over.

As the last strains of the waltz faded away on the still night air, the tall stranger held her for a long breathless moment. Melissa’s heart fluttered rapidly at his nearness and she held her breath in anticipation. Was he about to kiss her? She longed to stay in his arms, but she had been trained as a lady and, reluctantly, she slipped away.

“Wait!” He called after her desperately. “You have not told me your name and I must see you again!”

Her emotions in thorough disarray and her mind in utter turmoil, Melissa picked up her skirts and ran as if her life depended on it. She rushed out of the chamber and down the corridor, where she found a place of refuge in a deserted alcove. The stranger hurried out of the chamber a scant moment later in pursuit, and Melissa held her breath and prayed that he would not discover her hiding place.

As he ran past her, on his way to the staircase, Melissa caught a glimpse of his features. She gasped and swayed, catching hold of the wall for support. She had been dancing with the gentleman from the park, the perfect match who made up the fabric of her fondest dreams!

BOOK: Match For Melissa
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