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“I have a bit of memory of you,” Marta said. She scrunched her nose slightly and added, “Terribly sorry it’s not more.”
“I dare say you’ve had an entire life since then,” Baldwin said. His voice boomed delightfully, powerfully. Perhaps it could have been perceived to be flirtatious in nature, although he couldn’t be sure. It had been such a long time since any such thing had left his lips.
“Perhaps. Although from here, it’s rather difficult to remember it,” Marta said. A flicker of sadness shot up behind her eyes. In a moment, it disappeared—but not before it activated Baldwin’s curiosity. Ewan hadn’t yet given him the full story regarding his cousin’s reason for spending the season in England.
After growing up, living an entire life in one’s home country, Baldwin imagined it to be quite difficult to be so far from home, thrust into a society and its bizarre courting rituals without much preparation. Of course, this was all based on his own particular, narrow perception. Perhaps she didn’t think this way at all.
“Oh, but I know the three of you will have such a splendid time together,” Aunt Margaret said, whipping her palms together and giggling excitedly.
“Baldwin, what sort of events are upcoming?” Marta asked, her eyelashes fluttering. “I imagine you’ve quite a stacked calendar.”
To the side, Ewan scoffed. Marta turned her head swiftly as Ewan said, “Baldwin isn’t necessarily one for the nightly parties.”
This was, unfortunately, rather true. Baldwin felt a shadow fall over him at this reflection of his true self. Marta’s cheeks fell slightly, as though she’d seen him fully for the first time.
“Baldwin has had quite a time as of late,” Aunt Margaret said, seemingly wanting to patch up this strange turmoil Ewan had crafted. “He’s taken over a great deal for his father. A more responsible man, I’ve never known in my life. Ewan, you would do much better to act a great deal more like your dear friend.”
Ewan winked Baldwin’s way. Secretly, Ewan treasured these moments: when his mother chastised him and built Baldwin up. To Baldwin, Ewan had always said, “You’re the son that she always truly wanted. At least she gets you in this fashion.” Truthfully, Baldwin’s sober nature had taken a bit of the pressure off of Ewan.
Minutes later, the maid arrived to announce that dinner had been prepared. Aunt Margaret beamed at everyone and suggested that they sojourn to the dining room. Seconds after, the other young maid seated next to Marta leaned towards her and whispered something in German. Marta returned something else in German, and the maid looked a bit relieved. Baldwin burned to know what they’d said. It was as though they had a secret correspondence, a secret code.
As they walked towards the dining area, Ewan slipped in beside Baldwin. Still, Marta and the maid spoke in hushed whispers, several feet behind.
“What was the young maid’s name again?” Baldwin asked Ewan under his breath.
“I believe it’s Laura,” Ewan returned. “Doesn’t speak a word of English. I feel a bit strange about my mother’s reaction to the language. She acts as though it’s some sort of attack on our way of life.”
Baldwin chuckled. He again glanced back at the beautiful Marta, who, at that very moment, erupted into gorgeous laughter at something Laura had said. He whipped his head back around once more and kept his eyes forward. Of course, Ewan had seen the entire show.
“You fancy her, don’t you?” Ewan asked. He clucked his tongue and lent an evil smile.
“Not at all. I just think it’s quite curious to arrive from such a distance for a season. Don’t they have the same sort of affairs in Austria? Wouldn’t she feel far more comfortable with an Austrian man?” Baldwin asked.
“I believe her mother is something of a difficult creature. Not so hard to imagine, as my mother is very much that, as well. Perhaps it runs in the family.”
“Well, I am of the strong belief that you’re something of a wild man yourself,” Baldwin returned. “The family lineage, I can see it etched in each of your stories.”
Ewan gave a good-natured chuckle. “I will dig a bit deeper into the reasons why Marta was asked to come to England. I’m sure there’s a good story there. I’ve heard she’s a bit rambunctious, precocious even—and entirely adventurous. The sort of woman you should really stay away from, old boy, lest she runs circles around you and makes you dizzy.”
Baldwin rolled his eyes. Ewan was the only man on Earth he would allow to tease him like this. If any other man so much as crossed him, Baldwin immediately asserted his education and his dominance and his whip-smart tongue.
But Ewan, no. He was too much like a brother. Everything he said was shrouded with earnest love and endless fondness.
Once at the dinner table, Ewan’s father collected his wine glass, rose, and clinked it with a fork. “I’d love to make a toast to our new guests. Marta and her companion, Laura. Thank you for blessing us with your presence. And all the luck to you, dear Marta, as you adjust to the strange and beautiful world of England once more. I know your mother would be very proud.”
Throughout dinner, Laura, the maid, kept her chin towards her chest. She flicked through her meal with a fork, seemingly uninterested. Amid pleasant conversation, Aunt Margaret blurted, “Darling, is there something wrong with the food?”
Laura didn’t lift her head. Marta’s eyes flickered dangerously. Baldwin was reminded of what Ewan had said about her precocious personality.
“Auntie Margaret, she doesn’t speak English. It’s going to be rather difficult to ask her questions for the time being,” Marta said. She kept her voice light, although it was clear that she was prepared to dip into whatever tone suited the situation best. Annoyance seemed on the horizon.
“Terribly sorry. Silly me. I just keep forgetting,” Aunt Margaret said, her voice heavy with a sigh.
It really was as though Aunt Margaret had never gone through such hardship in her life. Baldwin made a mental note to chuckle more about this later with Ewan. It was all quite mesmerising to watch.
“Won’t you ask her if something’s wrong with the food, then?” Aunt Margaret asked.
Marta heaved a sigh. There it was: the annoyance. “The food is quite different than what we’re accustomed to, Aunt Margaret. I’ve had this sort of fare before, but it’s Laura’s first day on the island.”
