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“It’s funny you say that, Ewan, because I really don’t think about it until someone like yourself brings it up,” the Duke returned, seemingly genuinely pleased to be able to dip into his incredible power over society. “Marta, I suppose much of this is beyond your comprehension. Things are quite different in Austria.”
“Not exactly,” Marta returned. “We also have men of incredible power. They just speak a different language.”
Her eyes connected with Ewan’s across the table. She knew he’d felt her sarcasm, as well. It felt as though they played a game they’d already lost. All they could do was play it with as much charisma and excitement as they could. It was as though they were drowning, yet had decided to sing their favourite songs just before they sank.
Of course, in this case, it was Marta who would be wrapped up in the Duke’s affairs. Nobody else would be required to sleep with him. Nobody else would be required to uphold a legal arrangement or bear his children or honour him, night after night.
It was enough to drive her mad.
Throughout lunch, Baldwin interjected only a few times. Each time, he seemed as though he struggled to find the joke that lurked just beyond the topic athand. In response, the Duke scoffed and said, “I think I very nearly understand what you wanted to do with that, Baldwin. Always such a clever chap.”
At this, Aunt Margaret’s eyes shone. It seemed she found the Duke’s remarks to be entirely kind, clever, armed with constant goodwill. It seemed impossible that she could ever perceive him in any negative light.
When lunch ended, Aunt Margaret suggested that they embark to the garden for a chat. However, to Marta’s surprise, the Duke stated that he had to return to work for the day.
“Thank you again for the pleasant company,” he said. “I do hope that you’ll welcome me to your home again soon.”
Aunt Margaret looked as though she might fall from her chair. “Oh, dear me. I had thought…” Her thoughts seemed to toss about in her skull.Had it been the lamb? Had it been Baldwin? Had Marta not been beautiful enough?Of course, Marta could only guess at what she thought.
“Ah! The upcoming party,” the Duke said. His eyes burned towards Marta’s. “I assume that you’ll all be in attendance.”
“Of course we will be!” Aunt Margaret blurted. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Mother. I don’t know if he meant…” Tatiana began.
“We’ll all be there,” Baldwin interrupted. “Don’t worry yourself.”
“Wonderful to hear, Baldwin,” the Duke returned. His eyes were cold. He stood from the table and marched to the doorway. Aunt Margaret hopped up and raced after him, her chest bobbing to and fro. When she reached the doorway, she gave Marta a frightening glare.
Marta knew: she was required to follow. Slowly, she stood and walked like a ghost towards the foyer. Once there, Aunt Margaret seemed to fawn over the Duke, while his eyes scanned her body up and down.
“Good afternoon to both of you,” he said. “Thank you again for the pleasant company.”
“Good afternoon. I look forward to our next meeting,” Marta recited. Her words felt harsh and flat against her tongue.
Still, she knew they’d been enough, at least for the moment.
When the Duke disappeared into his carriage, Aunt Margaret rounded towards her, her face scrunched and blotchy. “Whatever happened? Whatever did we do wrong?” She tore at her nails with her small teeth. “Perhaps the food was much more lacklustre than he’s accustomed to? Oh, but I got the cut of lamb from the very farm his cook ordinarily goes to.”
“Such research went into this, Mother,” Ewan called from the dining room, where it seemed everyone remained in rapt attention.
“I think it went splendidly,” Marta lied. “Truly.”
Aunt Margaret’s shoulders slumped. “So you think you—you feel some sort of…” She paused, then thought twice about the words. “He’s quite a handsome man, isn’t he?”
“Terribly handsome, Mother!” Ewan again called from the dining room.
Aunt Margaret grumbled to herself. She pulled her skirts high and marched towards the hallway and then disappeared in the dining room. Now, alone for the first time in many hours, Marta felt overwhelmed with the strange darkness that seemed to collect itself in her belly.
This man meant nothing to her.
Nothing at all.
Baldwin suddenly stepped out from the dining room. His black eyes found hers immediately. She wanted to scream at him, to demand why he’d allowed any of this to happen. But she pressed her teeth into her bottom lip and waited in stunned silence. In the far room, they could hear Ewan and Aunt Margaret begin a vibrant and false-sounding conversation, with Ewan asking her just how their father might feel with Aunt Margaret’s newfound crush on Lord Remington.
“You’re dastardly, dear son,” Aunt Margaret cried. “I cannot understand where you came from.”
Baldwin stepped closer to Marta. She swallowed and stepped back, as though his presence was such an alarm that she couldn’t bear to be too close. Her nostrils filled with his musk and her eyes fluttered closed, even as Ewan, Aunt Margaret, and Tatiana’s voices rose higher. They seemed to shift to some sort of argument, although Marta’s mind felty fuzzy and inarticulate. She couldn’t have echoed back what they said.
