Melissa And The Cowboy (Western Night Series 1) Read Free Page B

her for intruding on his peace. “Colonel Grantchester, I would like to thank you for giving me a home, and a position. However, I am over the moon to tell you that I shall be leaving today, to take the train to marry my future husband!”
    He jolted from his position of repose he had taken up, reclining on one of the plush velvet couches as if he were reading the newspaper – but Melissa knew that all he did was nap. She was triumphant in her newfound freedom, and it would matter not one bit to her any longer that he did or didn’t approve of her choice, or her methods. He had left her no alternative. “Melissa, you do need my permission to marry. You are my ward,” he blustered.
    “Don’t be so silly,” she chastised him as if he were a small child. She had never dared to speak to anyone in such a condescending manner before. “You shall be glad to be rid of me. You will no longer have to provide for me. You never wanted me here anyway, even when my Mama was alive.” She knew that this wasn’t strictly true. He certainly hadn’t wanted her around when she had been a child, but he had enjoyed leering at her once her womanly body had begun to emerge. However, she was thankful that he had never taken it any further than that – even once they were alone in the house he had shown remarkable restraint, had barely so much as touched her arm since.
    “So what do you know of this man? Is he of a good family? Will you be living nearby?” he asked her, feigning interest where he had none, clearly trying to think of what he would do without her.
    “That is none of your concern. I take responsibility of my happiness from your shoulders, Sir. I wish you the very best.” Melissa turned and flounced from the room, shutting the double doors behind her and doubling over with the giggles as she did so. Oh, just to see the look on the old goat’s face. He had so clearly believed that he had a slave for life, that he had cut off her every escape route. It felt more than wonderful to be able to take the rug out from under his feet. She took a look around at what had never really been her home, and marched out into the street to hail a carriage to take her and her things to the station to begin her new life.
    The station was very busy. People seemed to be rushing here and there in such a hurry. Melissa stood at the top of the grand stairwell and gazed down. She could see families on excursions; young men and women, who like her were clearly heading off somewhere for a longer stay, porters scurrying behind them with trolleys full of luggage; business men and their wives. She was surprised that so many people could all be in one place, hurrying across the concourse to meet the trains that waited, huffing and puffing billows of dirty black smoke.
    “Miss, your train is on the platform. It leaves in just a few moments. We should already be down there,” her own porter chided her gently. He was only a boy, with a freckled face and a ready grin.
    “Of course, I most definitely do not want to miss my train,” she assured him and began to take the stairs quickly. He picked up her trunk and carried it on his shoulder, as if it weighed nothing at all, and followed closely behind her.
    “Right here, Miss.” He pointed at the first train. It was a beast of black and red painted iron, the name on its engine was The Comet, and Melissa smiled as she read the brass plaque. She needed just such a thing to propel her into her new life. “This is your carriage.” The young lad offered her his hand, and she took it, stepping up into the doorway of the wood panelled compartment. It felt warm and cozy and the comfortable looking seats were clean and covered with soft, but hardwearing velvet. She settled herself in as he put her trunk up into the shelves overhead. “Have a safe journey Miss.” Melissa didn’t have much money, but she pulled out a few coins and pressed them into his hand.
    “Thank you, you have been most kind to me,” she