His Lady's Crescendo

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Her delicate fingers gently tapped the piano keys, cherishing this specific composition that had captivated her heart and ignited her love for the instrument.

As the tempo accelerated, she struck the keys with greater force and speed, reminiscent of a game of catch with her brothers.

Unlike those encounters where she always fell short, the piano allowed her dexterous fingers to effortlessly synchronize with the rhythm.

Here, she was not the younger sibling struggling to keep up; she felt liberated.

With an even swifter pace in mind, she pressed her fingers against the piano, reveling in her favorite part—the sudden cessation in the score. It evoked the calm that follows a tempestuous storm.

After the pause, she transitioned into a slow and melodious performance, likening it to the gentle drizzle that marks the end of a tempest.

The final note resonated through the empty hallway. Isabelle focused on controlling her breathing, a habit she had developed over time playing the piano.

Her music teacher, Mr. Antoine, had attempted to instill a more restrained and elegant style, but Isabelle's approach was inherently dramatic, unrestrained, and unrestricted.

Although her playing possessed a smooth quality, she relished infusing her entire being into the performance, effectively telling a story not only through sound but also through her body language.

"How was that?" Isabelle inquired of Mr. Antoine, a French gentleman with a distinct accent. "Good, but..." he began before diving into his familiar lecture.

"I've always advised you to adopt a more refined and elegant approach. As a lady, you cannot—let me emphasize—play like an uncivilized ruffian in those abhorrent taverns."

By now, Isabelle had grown accustomed to his ramblings. "Yes, yes, I understand, Mr. Antoine," she replied calmly, casually perusing her sheet music. 

"My lady, you must comprehend that refined and elegant compositions will always be highly esteemed. Allow me to remind you that I, with my refined self, was chosen to perform for Her Majesty the Queen."

"Oh no," Isabelle thought, anticipating an inevitable continuation of his discourse; once he began talking about the queen he never stopped. Before he could delve further, her personal maid Anne entered the room. 

"My lady, your mother requests that you begin to prepare for the evening."

This interruption was a relief at the moment, but now Mr. Antoine's monologues seemed like a better choice to her. "Let's conclude our session for today, my lady," he announced with a bow. "Ah, before I depart, please extend my congratulations to Lord Adrian."

"Of course, I will," Isabelle assured as she exited the room, with her personal maid, Anne, hurriedly following.

Isabelle dreaded her mother's parties. The Marchioness, her mother, exuded an air of pride and elegance that befitted her noble title. In her younger years, Isabelle often admired her stunning mother, the epitome of grace; and perfection. 

Isabelle yearned to be like her mother, despite the distant and unaffectionate nature of their relationship. Over time, she realized that achieving such a feat was nearly impossible and had found freedom running through the garden with her brothers. 

The suffocating etiquette lessons she had endured in her youth did not bring her any closer to becoming like her mother. Her uniqueness was deemed audacious by her governess who preferred prim and proper children.

Her mother, who had ties to the royal family, remained just out of Isabelle's reach. Although she was only a Marchioness, she was influential in high society; her lavish parties were attended by the most esteemed families.

To receive an invitation was considered an honor, and Isabelle had lost count of the acquaintances who had befriended her solely for that purpose. Conversely, she had also lost friends who failed to secure an invitation from her mother.

Today was none other than her favorite brother's engagement celebration of her favorite brother, Adrian Montrose. A union strategically beneficial to the Marquis family.

The event had been meticulously planned by her mother for the past six months, leaving her on edge. Isabelle had tiptoed around her during that time, doing her best not to anger or upset the Marchioness. For some reason, she always seemed to anger her mother.

When she was younger, she always loved to follow her mother around or escape from her etiquette classes to take a peek at her mother who worked with the family butler to run the home efficiently. She looked beautiful to her, and she loved just watching her.

Her mother would always be upset and take her back to her classes; she wished she would have told her it was okay to spend one day away from classes and spend the day with her.

As she grew older, she and her mother grew apart; their differences were evident, and either her mother had gotten used to her tantrums or just knew how to ignore them. She felt embarrassed when she thought of all the things she had done to seek her attention.

In regards to marriage, she already knew that her time was fast approaching; she had run out of brothers. Her mother was currently busy with an engagement and a wedding, but she would definitely be next.

The Marchioness had delayed Isabelle's marriage because she hadn't found someone suitable for the Montrose family and turned down all the suitors who wanted to marry Isabelle, but she knew her mother would soon present her with whom she would have no choice to marry. 

The coming-of-age season would soon begin when all the young ladies were out and eligible for marriage.  All mothers with daughters of marriageable age would be on the lookout for eligible bachelors. She hated the seasons the most. 

Come summer, she wouldn't even be able to go to parks, operas, and theaters because all the mamas and their daughters would be there on the hunt for husbands. Well, she couldn't blame the ladies; they had been cut out of high society until they were sixteen. 

This was their season to see the world and go to many places that she had never been before, especially with the chance to interact with the opposite sex. Go to many parties, dance, fall in love, and fall out of love. It was exciting.

Her beloved brother Adrian was soon to be wed, and she would no longer have a chaperone who entertained her every whim, while her eldest brother Sebastian, the heir, was always busy and also married.

This season, her mother would undoubtedly be her chaperone. Unlike the previous seasons since she turned sixteen, it wouldn't be all fun and games. This time, she would undoubtedly find a husband.

Isabelle brushed aside these thoughts as she entered her room, finding her maids and seamstress already present. Mentally preparing herself for the upcoming hours of arduous preparation, she remembered her mother instructing the maids to take extra care of her.

The process would commence with makeup and hair, followed by the laborious task of getting into her dress, which required the assistance of three women. She couldn't help but long to play her piano the moment she sat at the dressing table. "I'm ready."