Free The Diabolical Baron by Mary Jo Putney

child’s interest, and a message went to Lady Hanscombe. She disliked wasting money on educational extras but play ing the pianoforte was undeniably necessary to a well- bred young lady.
    Besides, for the first time in her life Caroline cared enough for something to wage a cam paign for it. Her ladyship became reconciled to the ex penditure after she conceived the happy thought that Caroline could instruct her younger sisters, thus elimi nating further expenditures.
    The happiest hours of her childhood belonged to Signore Ferrante’s cluttered parlor, for he was soon giv ing her private lessons in his home. It was obvious that Caroline had an extraordinary talent; her ear was fault less, she had an amazing memory for both technique and musical literature, and she learned instruments as if she already knew how to play them and just needed re minding. By the age of twelve it was also clear she had a gift for composition that exceeded even her performing skills.
    Signore Ferrante had sometimes wondered what cruel fate sent him as a political exile from sunny Italy to this land of cold rain and cold people, but he wondered no longer after meeting Caroline. A deeply religious man, he felt God had sent him to the bambina, to be her teacher and guide.
    He and his placid wife always had their door open to her, and they found in her a child to replace those grown and gone from home. The signore would sigh when he thought of God’s oversight in mak ing Caroline a female and from a high rank of society; a man would have won acclaim throughout Europe. Even a woman could have been accepted as a per former if she came from a class that permitted such a scandalous career.
    Still, he believed such talent as Caroline had was its own justification. By the time she had been taken off to the Marriage Mart, she was a skilled performer on all the keyboard instruments, plus the lute, violin, harp, recorder, and flute. Her fine singing voice had much more range and power than would have been expected from her soft speech.
    And she left behind her a handful of carefully copied musical compositions that could stand comparison with the best of Europe’s young mu sical geniuses. Caroline had resisted all suggestions of publishing her work; she felt she would be forbidden her music if anyone discovered her in so unladylike a pursuit as composition. Signore Ferrante didn’t press her. He knew her time would come.
    * * * *
    Caroline’s reverie was interrupted by a knock on her door. Turning, she saw one of the housemaids timidly saying, “Please, miss, you’re wanted in your father’s study right away.”
    She felt a shock of fear. Her father never wanted to talk to her. It could only be ... she refused to speculate further. Drawing a deep breath, she laid her pen down and rose slowly. “Thank you, Elsie. I’ll go down di rectly.”
    It took all her courage to enter the room euphemisti cally called her father’s study. He had never been known to read a book or write an unnecessary letter in his life; the room served mainly as his escape from his family.
    Going inside, she saw that her stepmother was also present, giving her a cool smile of approval. It could mean only one thing.
    Sir Alfred came toward her, beaming with self-satis faction, and said in what was meant to be a fond tone, “Congratulations, my clever little puss. Lord Radford has been here to ask permission to pay his addresses to you. Soon you will be Lady Radford. He wishes for a speedy wedding.” This was accompanied by a lascivi ous wink.
    Caroline stared at her father in dismay. She was just beginning to feel less threatened by his lordship, and now this! Stam mering and almost incoherent, she embarked on her first attempt to defy her parents’ will. “But... but I do not wish to marry him. If... wh-when he asks me, I shall refuse him.”
    His good nature instantly transformed into anger, the baronet started turning red while he yelled, “We’ll have none of your missish