Heart Strings (Music of the Heart Book 1) Read Free

out into the world. Leaving one’s home and family simply isn’t done. I have nowhere to go—my aunt cut off my friends years ago. And I have no living family besides my aunt and uncle. But I cannot bear this any longer. I must leave. I must .”
    Martha’s eyes were full of sympathy. “I don’t understand how they can treat you so poorly. I don’t blame you for wishing to leave.”
    Susanna almost touched the maid but that would probably frighten her away. She settled for a friendly smile. “I thank you for your words. I feel rather naughty for even considering such a thing.”
    Martha smiled timidly.
    “Tell me, Martha,” Susanna said. “What can I do? What kinds of positions do young ladies obtain?”
    Martha’s brow wrinkled in thought. “A governess, perhaps?”
    Susanna nodded. “I’d considered that. I read extensively, and speak French. But my aunt dismissed my governess when I was thirteen so I never received further education in history, or painting, or many other subjects a governess must know. I’m not sure I am educated enough.” She finished the berries and sipped her tea.
    Martha tapped her fingers together. “A lady’s companion?”
    “Yes, I’d thought of that as well. In truth, I do not know if I’m as well schooled as a lady’s companion would need to be—if I understand the rules of etiquette. I have spent very little time outside my home.”
    “Perhaps a nursemaid.”
    Susanna let out a happy sigh and hope dared to rise up inside her. “I do love children.”
    “You’d need references,” Martha said.
    “Oh, dear.” Her hope collapsed. “I have no such thing.” Susanna put a hand to her head. Surely she was not doomed to marry Algernon. There had to be solution. She just needed to think of it.
    “If I may be so bold; what skills do you have?” Martha asked.
    Thoughtfully, Susanna took another sip of tea. “Skills? Very little, I’m afraid. Playing the harp is my only proficiency. Uncle always enjoys my harp music. It was at his pleasure I’d been allowed to continue taking lessons until two years ago.”
    Her uncle. She could appeal to him. He’d never been cruel to her, merely indifferent except when it came to music. He’d always provided a steady stream of new pieces for her to learn and play. Perhaps he might help.
    She disregarded that thought. The few times she’d sought his aid, he’d turned her away, saying she ought to obey her aunt. Uncle either had no interest in Susanna beyond her music or he was so henpecked by his wife that he’d developed a habit of bowing to her every whim.
    After finishing her tea, Susanna sank back down on her window seat. What might she do?
    Martha fixed a focused stare on her. “Do you play the harp well enough to secure a position as teacher or perhaps as a musician?”
    Susanna went still. “Work as a professional harpist? I have no idea.”
    “I don’t have a trained ear, miss, but it seems to me that you have real skills, and you’ve been at it for years, haven’t you?”
    Susanna stood and paced. “I’ve been playing for many years. My last teacher declared me as talented and skilled as any harpist of his acquaintance and that there was nothing further he could teach me.”
    Since then, she played for her own enjoyment—the perfect escape from her present world into a magical world of music where no one reminded her she was backward or dull or ugly or stupid. Music had become her own private sanctuary.
    She mused. “But to play professionally? Most professional musicians are men. I don’t know if anyone would even give me a chance.”
    Martha’s large brown eyes shone. “I went to the opera once and sat in the penny section. I did notice a few women in the orchestra. The opera houses employ musicians. So do some gardens such as Vauxhall. Why, the possibilities are endless. The London Season begins in a few weeks—right after Easter.”
    It sounded like a viable option. Oh, if she could do it, sharing her