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“I do know that,” Marta said. She began to unbutton her dress, feeling flummoxed. “But I promise you … it will only be tonight. Then, I’ll inform my aunt that she cannot simply dip into your responsibilities. You’re my maid—”
“And yet, you’ve hardly had me move a finger since our arrival,” Laura returned.
“Yes. I know that,” Marta said. In truth, she’d felt rather guilty for the past week. How could she possibly order Laura about when she felt the girl was terribly miserable? “Just take this as your first and final order for the week, won’t you? I don’t think the boys are so wretched…”
“Both boys?” Laura asked. She tossed her head and made a face. “How terrible. Okay. Okay.” She clenched her fists and muttered, “Just this once. But I’ll pepper them with as much German language as I please. They’ll be confused for all the evening.”
“Yet perhaps you’ll even teach them something,” Marta said, laughing.
“I imagine nothing good will come out of this,” Laura insisted. “Please don’t suggest anything with such optimism.”
Before she left to find the boys, Laura assisted Marta with her gown and hair and makeup. The process reminded Marta of long-lost affairs in Austria, as she’d prepared for meetings with her love. Certainly, her face remained the same—even if the style altered. But she felt none of the original bubbling of the stomach. Her interest in the evening was certainly piqued, yet she felt sure that she would be left disappointed.
When finished, Laura grumbled and retreated to find Malcolm and Walter. She pronounced Walter’s name with a V instead of a W, a fact that Marta didn’t wish to correct. Austrians and Germans had such trouble with the letter W. If she pointed this out, however, she felt sure that Laura would stomp out of the estate and find her own way back to Austria.
Marta gave a final glance into the mirror and then marched down the staircase and toward the area where the garden drifted off and gave way to the entrance of the elaborate ballroom. Back in Austria, Marta and her parents hadn’t had such an immaculate estate; certainly, they’d held parties and those sorts of events, but nothing like what her aunt had in mind. She felt the simmer of excitement in the air as she approached.
Aunt Margaret had dressed beautifully, as was her way. Although she’d grown a bit across the waist and hips and breasts, she knew how to suit her body to formulate a feminine shape. She beamed as Marta approached and placed a hand at her lower back. “Look at you, beauty. Every single man will have his eyes on you and only you.”
Aunt Margaret shuffled off to prepare something. From the ballroom, the string quartet began to play their first of an infinite number of songs. Ewan stepped toward Marta and whispered, “You’re her prize possession. Her great gift to the county.”
“Ha. Don’t remind me,” Marta said. She gave Ewan a brief look then said, “You clean up quite nicely, don’t you?”
“If there’s so much as a curl out of place, Mother takes great pleasure in embarrassing me in front of everyone,” Ewan admitted. “It saves me a great deal of time and heartache if I simply ensure everything is in line.”
“I understand.”
A few carriages approached. Tatiana, Ewan, and Marta entered the ballroom and were delivered three glasses of wine. Marta’s heart bumped along a bit too quickly, proof of her anxiety.
“Who was it Mother had her eye on for you this evening?” Tatiana asked.
“Lewis,” Ewan recited. “Lewis Remington.”
Tatiana’s eyes widened. “I see. She’s aiming high for you, then. A Duke.”
“Apparently so,” Marta said. There was such reluctance in her voice.
“He’s quite handsome. A great favourite of the Regent,” Tatiana said.
“Now you sound like Mother,” Ewan affirmed.
“I’m only telling her…”
“Baldwin!” Ewan’s face brightened. He lifted a hand towards the entrance as his handsome jet-black-haired and sombre friend entered the ballroom. He clapped the man on the back and turned around, his eyes connecting with Marta’s. “Baldwin here attempted to get his way out of tonight’s affair, but I insisted he join us. Terribly difficult to drag him from his work.”
“I’ve made plans to marry my desk,” Baldwin said.
Marta’s smile widened. She was surprised each time Baldwin uttered any sort of joke.
“Good evening, anyway, Marta. Tatiana,” Baldwin said.
“It’s been a few months, hasn’t it, Baldwin?” Tatiana said. She gave him a once-over. “You’re looking a bit too thin.”
“He’s worked himself to death, dear sister. He doesn’t need any sort of disdain from you,” Ewan said.
“Very well,” Tatiana said with a heavy sigh. “I hope you’ll enjoy yourself. You’re still a bit too young to close yourself off from the world.”
“And still more unsolicited advice!” Ewan cried.
