Daddy Dearest

Chapter Eighty-Four

MELODY

Grantchester was a picture-perfect English village, straight out of a postcard. The honey-colored stone cottages, the quaint village green, and the narrow winding roads were all charming in their own right. And of course, there was the River Cam that wound lazily through lush meadows and overhanging willows, beckoning rowers and daydreamers alike.

"Melody dear, please pay attention to your posture," my Grand Aunt Sylvia chided as she adjusted the teacup I was holding. Her voice was crisp and proper like a textbook on etiquette. As the widow of the Earl of Ravenwood, she took her role as my guardian quite seriously, determined to mold me into the perfect Cambridge girl. "You must always remember to hold your chin up and your back straight," she continued.

"Of course, Sensei," I replied with a mock bow, earning a disapproving frown from Aunt Sylvia. She may have been a countess, but I couldn't help poking fun at the stuffy atmosphere she cultivated around her. My father had once mentioned that his own father, Harold Plum, had been knighted by the Queen before he died. It seemed that being ridiculously prim and proper ran in the family.

"Melody, this is not a game. You are a young lady now, and you must learn how to carry yourself with grace and dignity," Aunt Sylvia scolded, her gaze boring into me. "Your grandfather would have wanted you to uphold the family name."

"Alright, alright," I acquiesced, straightening my posture and trying to suppress a grin. "I promise, no more jokes about your noble lineage. But can we at least take a break? I'm starting to get tea-d up about all these lessons."

Aunt Sylvia sighed, shaking her head as she surrendered to my stubborn plea. "Very well, but only for today. Tomorrow, we shall resume our lessons with vigor."

"Deal," I agreed, barely containing my excitement at the prospect of having a day off from Aunt Sylvia's relentless pursuit of turning me into a proper English rose.

As she left the room, I couldn't help but chuckle at our latest exchange. Life in Grantchester was worlds away from my carefree California days, but I had to admit, there was something enchanting about this place that made me want to explore every nook and cranny. And who knows, maybe some of that old-world charm would eventually rub off on me, turning me into a true Cambridge girl after all.

But for now, I was more than content to wander the idyllic village streets, soak up the sun by the River Cam, and indulge in the occasional bout of sarcasm to keep my spirits high. After all, I may have been living in a fairy tale world, but I was still Melody Plum, California girl at heart, determined to forge my own path in this quaint little corner of England.

***

"Melody, sweetheart," Nancy said as we sat down in the living room, sipping tea from delicate china cups. "Have you noticed how Aunt Sylvia's servants have been treating you lately?"

"Umm, I guess?" I shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. "But it's nothing I can't handle."

"Sweetheart, you shouldn't have to handle anything," Nancy insisted. "They're supposed to be here to help you, not make you feel unwelcome."

I sighed, remembering the incident from earlier that day. One of the maids had made a snide remark about my outfit, and instead of letting it slide, I'd retorted with a classic California zinger: "Well, at least I'm not dressed like a Victorian ghost." It hadn't gone over well, but I couldn't help myself.

"Look, Nancy, I appreciate your concern," I said, trying to reassure her. "But I've dealt with worse back home, remember? A few stuck-up servants aren't going to break me."

"Still," she mused, "I just wish they'd treat you with the same respect they show Aunt Sylvia."

"Maybe they will once I master the art of pouring tea without spilling it all over myself," I joked, making Nancy laugh.