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Chapter 8
Hours before the party, Ewan’s sister and Marta’s other cousin, Tatiana, arrived via carriage. Marta watched in awe as the woman she remembered from her previous trip to England time-travelled her way from a youthful and beautiful teenager to a late-20-something, a mother of two children and a wife to a prominent Earl. Tatiana flashed a large smile as she stepped from the carriage. The girls held eyes for a moment—memory flickering between them until Tatiana whirled back around and assisted two young boys from the carriage. A sturdy-looking and important man appeared, broad-shouldered with curly blond hair. He used his hand to scrape something off of Tatiana’s shoulder, some sort of dust from the ride.
They were a perfect little, idyllic English family.
“There she is! My beautiful Austrian cousin,” Tatiana cried. She whipped her arms out as she approached and held Marta in a long hug.
When it broke, Marta was surprised at how emotional she felt. “My goodness! It’s been ages,” she began. “I’m terribly sorry again that I missed the wedding.”
“Oh, darling, it’s really nothing at all,” Tatiana said. She tossed her hand around and then placed it atop a son’s head. “Besides. So much has happened since then.”
“So much in the form of two bright and handsome sons!” Marta said.
“Yes. This is Malcolm, and this is Walter. I would say they’re my pride and joy, but they got into quite a tiff on the way here,” Tatiana said.
Marta laughed. “When Aunt Margaret said you’d come for the party, I nearly fell out of my chair. I imagined you’d have too much to do.”
“Mother wrote that your maid could help with the boys?” Tatiana said. “That’s the only trouble we have. Theo and I wish to dance and laugh and perhaps drink a tiny bit too much. If we have someone helping to watch them…”
“It’s the sort of freedom we dream about,” Theo affirmed.
Aunt Margaret hadn’t mentioned this arrangement to Marta. Of course, Laura couldn’t very well attend the party, but Marta had hoped to sneak her as much wine as possible and give her the evening off.
“My maid doesn’t speak much English, I’m afraid,” Marta said.
“That shouldn’t be much of a problem. The boys speak in screams and yells, anyway,” Tatiana said.
Marta would have to find a way to make this up to Laura.
Aunt Margaret called out to them from the front door. “I’ve arranged for tea in the garden! Oh, my darling grandsons. Come to your grandmother!”
The boys seemed reluctant. Tatiana gave them a little shove, which forced them towards Aunt Margaret. She bowed and dotted their cheeks with endless kisses. Marta remembered this from long-ago: her aunt’s love for smothering. It wasn’t a comfortable thing to take as a child.
Back in the garden, Tatiana took a seat next to Marta and beamed at her. “I haven’t seen you since you were just a girl. It’s remarkable to see you now. All grown up. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, truly. The men in the county will fall to their knees before you…”
Marta rolled her eyes slightly. She’d grown fatigued of such conversation. “I can’t imagine that. Regardless, I’m looking forward to my first English party. I wonder how different they’ll be to Austrian affairs.”
“I wonder!” Tatiana returned. Her eyes remained orb-like. “My mother has quite the list of potential suitors for you. I imagine that she won’t give you a spare moment to yourself for the next months. In her mind, the only appropriate way to live is with a husband and children in the beautiful country of England. Whatever you might have had planned for yourself back in Austria simply won’t do.” She said it teasingly, yet Marta knew for a fact the words were lined with truth.
“I’m open to her suggestions, of course,” Marta said. Her eyes scanned watchfully towards her aunt, who remained in vibrant one-sided conversation with her grandsons. She held a ball aloft, on the verge of lending it to them. It seemed they had to go through countless trials before being allowed to play.
“She does mean well, of course. She suited me with my husband,” Tatiana continued. “She wants nothing more than for us all to grow old together. Having your mother in Austria all these years nearly destroyed her. She partially blamed herself, I think, for your mother’s unhappiness.”
Marta’s eyes flashed. So, it seemed common knowledge that her mother had been terribly unhappy in Austria. Her heart stirred with a mix of sadness and anger. She had sympathy for the fact that her mother surely couldn’t do much about her own unhappiness: she’d made an agreement and had carried it through, living out the rest of her days in Austria.
She’d just also decided to cast out that unhappiness to Marta. Make her stir in it. It was as though Marta herself had had to pay for her mother’s decision.
**
The conversation drifted on after that. Marta, Ewan, Tatiana, Aunt Margaret, and later Uncle Everett spent the afternoon in the garden, whileMalcolm and Walter carried on just beyond: tossing a ball and screaming out to the enormous blue sky. Marta mentioned only once that she’d never seen such a summery day in England. Tatiana squeezed her hand and said, “Perhaps it’s the country welcoming itself to you?”
As the party inched closer, Aunt Margaret became wild with apprehension. She continually bustled to the kitchen, to the ballroom, to the garden, on a sort of rotation, to order people about. When she felt it time to prepare, she ordered everyone to return to their various quarters to dress and do their hair and makeup. When Marta appeared back in her bedroom, she found Laura there, a little German book propped up on her chest. She’d sneaked away, it seemed, from her duties and from the English language, with a mission to dive back into her ordinary one. When she spotted Marta, her face brightened.
“Are you ready to prepare yourself for your introduction into the world of English courting?” she asked.
“Yes. But I’m afraid I can only keep you a short while,” Marta said. She scrunched her nose as she informed Laura of her responsibilities that night.
Of course, Laura didn’t exactly take the news in stride. “You know I have a sincere dislike for children,” she recited.
