Read Online The Mad Lord's Daughter by Jane Goodger - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jane Goodger
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a crush out there, and it might be best for you to stay put.”
His father stood and stretched a bit. “I’ll be two boxes down talking to Quimby. He’s being stubborn about Rolt’s Act, trying to water it down too much, and I want to get him to see sense while he’s away from his cronies. I’ll keep an eye on Melissa while you’re getting refreshments.”
“I’ll be perfectly fine here reliving the first act,” Melissa said, looking over her program for The Lily of Killarney. She’d never thought an opera could be so very exciting, and she couldn’t wait to find out if young Creggan was actually going to murder his secret wife, Eily, so he could marry the wealthy Ann and save his lands.
Now that she knew the characters, she wanted to put their names with the names of the performers, and she looked over the program with interest. It was all so exciting and she wondered what the cast was doing at this very moment. How brave to walk out on a stage and sing your heart out to a large crowd of people. It must be so thrilling to hear such applause, to be part of something so absolutely astounding.
Down below, the seats were nearly empty, and several members of the orchestra were either relaxing or tuning their instruments. Outside, she could hear the rustling of dresses and quiet murmurs of people passing by. She looked toward the box where Miss Stanhope had gone to visit her niece, the duchess, but it appeared to be empty. Was she the only person still seated? Where had they all gone?
That was when she comprehended where at least some of them had gone, and realized she needed to find a water closet or be exceedingly uncomfortable for the remainder of the opera.
Feeling slightly rebellious, Melissa stood and moved toward the exit, peeking out at those who walked by. Everyone seemed so calm, so sure that he or she belonged, so completely unaware of his or her surroundings. Melissa reminded herself that this was practically an everyday occurrence for most of the ton. If they had to go use the necessary, they did so. Right now, Melissa truly wished she had told Miss Stanhope of her needs.
Two elderly women were passing by, chatting rather loudly to one another, when Melissa stepped out of the box. “Excuse me, ladies,” Melissa said with an air of apology. “This is my first time at the opera house. I wonder if you could be so kind as to direct me to the necessary.”
“Oh, I daresay you won’t have time for that,” one lady said. “It’s all the way on the evens, you see.”
Melissa looked doubtfully down the hall where the even-numbered boxes were, hoping to see Miss Stanhope or John walking her way. “Thank you.”
Melissa stood uncertainly in the hallway just outside the box, nodding absently to the increasing number of passersby. Oh, why hadn’t she thought about going minutes ago?
Just as she made up her mind to start walking toward the evens, the lights flickered, indicating the second act would be beginning shortly. Suddenly, Melissa found herself in a sea of people, all hurrying to get to their seats before the act began—and she was heading against the flow, jostling and bumping into people. She kept her arms against herself, her fists held tightly against her chest, as if she were fending off an enemy. Panic flooded her, and she found it difficult to breathe, to move. She pressed herself against a wall as people moved around her, some staring at her strangely. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried with all her being to hold in the scream she so wanted to let out. They were breathing on her, touching her, rubbing their clothes against hers. Calm, calm, calm, she said to herself over and over. But no matter how much she pleaded with herself to open her eyes and make her way to her uncle’s private box, she was paralyzed.
From what seemed like miles away, above the roaring in her ears, she thought she heard her name.
“Melissa, good God, what happened? Melissa!”
She opened her eyes, and
His father stood and stretched a bit. “I’ll be two boxes down talking to Quimby. He’s being stubborn about Rolt’s Act, trying to water it down too much, and I want to get him to see sense while he’s away from his cronies. I’ll keep an eye on Melissa while you’re getting refreshments.”
“I’ll be perfectly fine here reliving the first act,” Melissa said, looking over her program for The Lily of Killarney. She’d never thought an opera could be so very exciting, and she couldn’t wait to find out if young Creggan was actually going to murder his secret wife, Eily, so he could marry the wealthy Ann and save his lands.
Now that she knew the characters, she wanted to put their names with the names of the performers, and she looked over the program with interest. It was all so exciting and she wondered what the cast was doing at this very moment. How brave to walk out on a stage and sing your heart out to a large crowd of people. It must be so thrilling to hear such applause, to be part of something so absolutely astounding.
Down below, the seats were nearly empty, and several members of the orchestra were either relaxing or tuning their instruments. Outside, she could hear the rustling of dresses and quiet murmurs of people passing by. She looked toward the box where Miss Stanhope had gone to visit her niece, the duchess, but it appeared to be empty. Was she the only person still seated? Where had they all gone?
That was when she comprehended where at least some of them had gone, and realized she needed to find a water closet or be exceedingly uncomfortable for the remainder of the opera.
Feeling slightly rebellious, Melissa stood and moved toward the exit, peeking out at those who walked by. Everyone seemed so calm, so sure that he or she belonged, so completely unaware of his or her surroundings. Melissa reminded herself that this was practically an everyday occurrence for most of the ton. If they had to go use the necessary, they did so. Right now, Melissa truly wished she had told Miss Stanhope of her needs.
Two elderly women were passing by, chatting rather loudly to one another, when Melissa stepped out of the box. “Excuse me, ladies,” Melissa said with an air of apology. “This is my first time at the opera house. I wonder if you could be so kind as to direct me to the necessary.”
“Oh, I daresay you won’t have time for that,” one lady said. “It’s all the way on the evens, you see.”
Melissa looked doubtfully down the hall where the even-numbered boxes were, hoping to see Miss Stanhope or John walking her way. “Thank you.”
Melissa stood uncertainly in the hallway just outside the box, nodding absently to the increasing number of passersby. Oh, why hadn’t she thought about going minutes ago?
Just as she made up her mind to start walking toward the evens, the lights flickered, indicating the second act would be beginning shortly. Suddenly, Melissa found herself in a sea of people, all hurrying to get to their seats before the act began—and she was heading against the flow, jostling and bumping into people. She kept her arms against herself, her fists held tightly against her chest, as if she were fending off an enemy. Panic flooded her, and she found it difficult to breathe, to move. She pressed herself against a wall as people moved around her, some staring at her strangely. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried with all her being to hold in the scream she so wanted to let out. They were breathing on her, touching her, rubbing their clothes against hers. Calm, calm, calm, she said to herself over and over. But no matter how much she pleaded with herself to open her eyes and make her way to her uncle’s private box, she was paralyzed.
From what seemed like miles away, above the roaring in her ears, she thought she heard her name.
“Melissa, good God, what happened? Melissa!”
She opened her eyes, and
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