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“It’s a difficult thing, isn’t it? Discovering any sort of partner who suits you,” Baldwin said.
Marta arched her brow. “I spotted you speaking with a red-headed woman. Quite beautiful.”
“Ah. So I see you’ve spied on me already,” Baldwin returned.
“Perhaps. I must admit, you looked rather displeased.”
“That is quite an understatement,” Baldwin said. He flashed a larger smile, surprising even himself, and said, “For reasons I never understood, she always wanted something more to happen between us. We sat together in silence for hours at a time. She would end each occasion with—ideas about engagements. About when I could ask her father to marry her. It did my head in. I couldn’t envision a life in which she was my wife. Or even, really, my friend.”
“Quite harsh, Baldwin,” Marta said.
“Indeed. It seems I’ve fallen completely into honest territory. How wretched of me.”
Marta’s cheeks burned pink. He again marvelled at her beauty and her ease while standing before him. He felt he could speak to her so plainly, as though she were only another facet of his own mind.
He’d never experienced anything like this in his life.
“Would you like to dance with me?” he asked suddenly. The words flew out. By the time they jumped off his tongue, it was too late to fetch them.
To his infinite surprise, she agreed. “I don’t have a partner. Thank you for saving me from such embarrassment.”
“It’s still the beginning of the season, Fraulein Schnitzler. You’ll have time to find a proper partner.”
“Thank you for taking such pressure off my shoulders.”
They came together. He found her hand easily, gripped it tenderly, felt a little jump in his chest. Her delicate feet took up the steps. After a few moments, he felt her fumble. She clenched her eyes tight and said, “Oh, goodness. We don’t do this one so often in Austria. I’ve forgotten it.”
“You’re a foreign woman in a foreign land,” Baldwin said. He laughed softly and assisted her back on the right path—guiding her with words, telling her where to step next.
“Thank you. You’re a marvellous teacher,” she said, blushing. “I’m quite embarrassed. All those lessons my mother paid for. All those years she hammered it in: that I must become a proper English girl, in order to find a proper English husband…”
“And now, it seems that all those lessons were for naught,” Baldwin said.
“You’re dreadful,” she said. Her eyes glittered. “But I must say, the way Ewan picks at you. It’s rather much, isn’t it?”
“I get him back when I please,” Baldwin returned. “We’re very much brothers. I don't know what my life would be like without him.”
“I feel a bit similarly at the moment about my maid, Laura,” Marta returned. She again furrowed her brow. “In fact, I think I’ll save her rather soon from those ravenous animals—my second-cousins.”
“Tatiana and Theo seem to be having a splendid time without them,” Baldwin said.
“Yes. The label of this evening seems to be selfishness. And I’m afraid that I’ve dipped into it, as well.”
“You’ve travelled a great distance to live this frivolous existence. Allow yourself as much time as you can,” Baldwin returned.
“Tatiana just said something quite similar,” Marta remarked.
“And yet, mine is heaped with sarcasm,” he said.
“I had a feeling about you. That nearly everything you said had several different layers. I just wasn’t entirely sure I was correct until this very moment,” she said.
“Perhaps I wear a sort of shield around everything,” Baldwin returned.
Why did he speak so plainly with her? He felt far different from the man who’d sat in the garden with Penelope, unable to muster a single sound.
The song ended far too quickly. It made Baldwin double-check his understanding of the concept of time. Marta curtsied once more and moved back towards Ewan, who’d fallen once more into conversation with his sister. When Marta arrived, Tatiana wrapped her arms around Marta’s shoulders, closed her drunken eyes, and exhaled, “Goodness, I’m glad you’re here! It’s been far too long.”
“If anyone says that again, I don’t know what I’ll do,” Ewan said. “It’s grown too tired, hasn’t it, Marta?”
Marta looked sheepish. Her eyes again connected with Baldwin’s. He felt he could comprehend the weight of her thoughts. In this instance, she wished everyone would halt their conversation about her.
But of course, this was all his perception. He might have had her miswritten in his head. What did he know?
