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But the Duke wouldn’t allow it. He flashed his white teeth and muttered, “One more dance, my beautiful Austrian. And then we’ll flee into the back corners. I’ll make you forget that silly Austrian language of yours. I’ll make you forget even your own name.”
The words were overwhelmingly frightening. Tears spouted to her eyes. But just when she’d resolved that she very well might have to go along with him, due to his strength and his watchful eyes and his profound grip, Baldwin appeared to her right. His large hand wrapped tight around the Duke’s bicep and tore his hand away from her. Then, discreetly, he smashed his opposite fist directly into the Duke’s stomach. The Duke coughed and staggered back, in complete shock.
Before Marta could fully react, Baldwin grabbed her hand and tugged her out after him, snaking through the crowd and into the dark night. Outside, Ewan awaited them, his hands on his cheeks. “My God,” he muttered, again and again. “He is going to kill you.”
But Baldwin seemed cool, calm. He turned swiftly towards Marta and gripped her shoulders. “Tell me you’re all right. Tell me he didn’t hurt you.”
Marta remained in shock. She fumbled for words and then wrapped her hands around his and brought them towards her lips. She so yearned to kiss them but stopped herself just in time.
“I’m okay. I’m going to be okay,” she whispered. “Let’s go home as soon as we can? Please.”
Neither Baldwin nor Ewan spoke as they marched back to the carriage. Once inside, Marta’s head collapsed onto Baldwin’s chest. Ewan stared straight ahead, muttering to himself. Baldwin raised his hand over Marta’s back and stroked her lovingly, just out of sight of Ewan. Marta marvelled at how wonderful it felt to be touched in this way, only so recently after being touched in such a horrendous and provocative way.
“I hate him,” Ewan muttered. “I always have, and now I have still more of a reason to…”
“He was quite drunk,” Marta admitted. “I suppose he hadn’t a true understanding of what he did.”
“That’s nonsense, and you know it,” Baldwin said.
“I don’t mean to speak in such a way. I only wish it hadn’t happened,” Marta said. She glanced up from his chest and frowned, suddenly conscious of what she’d done. She shifted away from Baldwin’s body and placed her hands in her lap. She stared straight ahead throughout the rest of the ride.
With everything in her, she craved Austria. She clenched her eyes shut and prayed to open them to see the mountains again. She so yearned to open her lips and speak Deutsch, to hear reason from strong Austrian minds. In a softer sense, she still felt the last whispers of love she’d had for her lost one and ached with misery. How far she felt from the life she’d wanted to build for herself!
Once back at home, Ewan invited Baldwin inside for a nightcap. Uncle Everett and Aunt Margaret had long-since gone to bed, and the house shifted strangely in the summer wind, as though it creaked with lost souls and ghosts. Marta felt akin to one of these ghosts: unclear on her purpose, yet yearning to howl throughout the night.
“I suppose you’ll stay with us tonight,” Ewan said as he poured three glasses of Scotch. “No use riding home so late at night.” Ewan scratched the back of his head and said, “How was it you came to the ball tonight? You didn’t journey with us.”
“I happened to have a meeting with another gentleman in attendance a few hours before,” Baldwin affirmed. “He offered to take me along to discuss more details of the business arrangement.”
“Good. I almost suspected that your horse remained at the estate,” Ewan said. In typical Ewan fashion, he seemed to yearn to make some sort of joke. “Imagine what sort of chaos that would be! Sneaking back to retrieve it.”
Neither Baldwin nor Marta seemed able to muster the strength to laugh or add to it. Ewan cleared his throat and said, “Perhaps we could craft some sort of design for you. Marta, you could stand on the front porch and howl at the sky. I could perform a jig in the stables themselves to distract.”
“It’s a sad state of things, isn’t it?” Marta said. “That you were never in any sort of law enforcement. You really do have the most prosperous ideas.”
Ewan cut them a sterling smile. Was it possible that the three of them could move forward from that night without malice or discontent? Marta snuck her lips over the edge of her Scotch glass and inhaled a tiny bit too much, casting the burning liquid across the back of her tongue. She allowed her shoulders to slump. For the first time all evening, she felt altogether ridiculous in the massive gown, which she’d donned to attract the attention of that horrendous man.
“I think perhaps it’s time for me to sleep,” she said. She wanted nothing more than to abandon her thoughts, to dive into whatever darkness awaited her.
But as she walked towards the doorway, Baldwin’s eyes again captured her. She swallowed and waited for a long moment. Perhaps he would say precisely what she needed to hear, whatever that was. Silence stretched between them. Ewan’s eyes scanned from her face back towards Baldwin’s.
“Good night,” Ewan finally sputtered, clearly confused.
“Good night,” Marta echoed.
