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Part 11

Posted on Sunday, 2 June 2002, at 9:26 a.m.

It was a cold and still dark mid-December morning when Theresia stepped out of St Stephen's Cathedral after the morning Mass. In Advent, she went there as often as she could, it reminded her of one of her habits at home. During the Christmas season, her mother had always attended the early morning service with her when she had been a child.
Theresia sighed. The morning was chilly, but there had still not been any snow. It had been too cold for snowing. It was a pity - Theresia loved snow, especially the first snow every winter.
This was not what occupied her mind at the moment, though. It was her cousin Marie's behaviour in the past two weeks.
When they had been at Count Bāthory's, it had started. Colonel Fitzwilliam's behaviour with her had made her uneasy - she was sure she might have done something wrong, especially because the Colonel avoided her ever since that evening.

"If I only knew what I have done to insult him," she had cried desperately, "then I could tell him I am sorry for it...but he did not speak to me any more, and I have not seen him ever since. Theresia, what went wrong?"

Theresia could think of no mistake Marie had made - if there had been an insult, it had not been Marie's fault, and Theresia was determined to find out what had happened.

In the meantime, Marie preferred to stay at home, so that she might not miss Colonel Fitzwilliam's visit, if he decided to call on them.

Theresia walked on, deep in thought. Her cousin was in love with the Colonel, there was no doubt about that, and his conduct had hurt her very much. Colonel Fitzwilliam did not look like the sort of man who would play with a woman's heart, however, and Theresia was sure that if he had decided to keep away from Marie, there had to be a reason for it. If she only knew...and if she could only do something for Marie. Seeing her in her present state was dreadful.

"Ah, Miss von Laudeck, good morning! Are you coming to see my sister?"

Theresia started. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she had not noticed she had, meanwhile, reached Novacek's lodgings.
She looked at the old soldier who looked at her with a benign smile.

"You are out quite early, Miss," he said. "And in all this cold too! You should have come by carriage."

"It is not that cold, Mr Novacek," Theresia said, smiling. "And I like to go for a walk early in the morning, as you know very well."

"Please do not say Mr Novacek to me, I am just plain old Novacek, this will do," Novacek answered. "It is not right that young ladies run around in town that early in the morning, Miss, I shall have to speak to the Colonel about it."

Theresia laughed. "You will not, Novacek. It is none of his business what I do or where I go at this time of day. Now, is your sister at home? I told her I would come to pick up a dress of mine."

Novacek gave a sharp whistle, and one of the second floor windows opened.

"Rosa!!" he bellowed. "Come out here, Miss von Laudeck has come! Don't keep her standing out here in the cold!"

"I'm coming! Jesus, Mary and Joseph, an old woman can't fly, can she?!"

"Yes she can, if she uses her broomstick," Novacek said in a low tone to Theresia, with a conspiring smile and wink. "I have to leave now, Miss, or the Colonel will give me hell for being late."

"Tell him to treat you decently, or he shall have to answer for it," Theresia said with a wink. "Good day, Novacek!"

The door opened, and Rosa Novacek asked her to come inside, while her brother walked down the street to meet his Colonel.

Theresia was on her way home when she nearly bumped into the object of her previous thoughts - Colonel Fitzwilliam himself. He seemed surprised to see her, gazing at her uneasily.

"Good morning Colonel Fitzwilliam," Theresia said pleasantly. "It has been a long time since we last met."

"Good morning, Miss von Laudeck," he answered with a smile. "It has been a long time, indeed."

"What kept you away, sir? I confess we were quite uneasy on your account."

"Well....there were many things to do lately."

Theresia did not believe one word he said.

"You are not waiting for an invitation, sir," she asked, with a grin. "I am sure your friendship with my cousin makes this formality completely unnecessary. You may call on him as often as you like."

Now, tell me what is wrong, Theresia thought. How are you going to get out of that one, I ask you?

"I see your cousin very often, Miss von Laudeck - nearly every day, in fact."

"Strange - he hardly ever tells us about you," Theresia answered. "My cousins Marie and Amalia were really getting worried."

Marie is, at least, and the Colonel knows as well as I do that Amalia never worries about anyone but herself. Get the hint now, will you?

Theresia gave him an expectant look.

"I hope they are well?"

"Quite well, yes, thank you." There was no getting through to that man. It was a lost cause.

Meanwhile, they had reached St Stephen's Square, and in the crowd they noticed Count Bāthory. Theresia hurried on - she was not in the humour to meet that man at the moment. Then something struck her - the way Colonel Fitzwilliam had looked at Bāthory had betrayed him. She remembered that, on that evening at Bāthory's home, they had entered the drawing room together, some time after the other gentlemen. What had passed between them, she wondered?

Well, she would not find out, but someone else might. Theresia decided that it was time to talk to Carl.

It was in the evening. During the meal, there was only one topic - Prince de Ligne, one of the most famous military men Austria had ever had, and besides one of the most prominent members of Viennese society, had died. Though he had already been eighty years old, he had been seen at every ball, flirting with the ladies as if he were at least forty years younger, sparkling with charm and wit and amazing everyone around him.

Apparently he had caught a cold while waiting for a lady to meet him, and this cold had caused his fatal illness.

"It is disgusting," Amalia said. "At his age, he should have been more reasonable."

Carl grinned. "Well, Amalia, if I was eighty years old, and I had a rendezvous with a lady, with the chance of her actually turning up, I'd die a happy man."

Even Joseph had to smile at this, but he checked himself when he noticed his wife's furious look.

"This is not the sort of talk I want to have at my dinner table, Carl, thank you very much. Besides you should consider that there are young ladies here as well - you should be more guarded in your choice of topic when they are around."

"Oh, I am sure they will agree with me," Carl said with a mischievous grin, but then he decided that he would not go any further. Amalia looked even sourer tonight than she had lately - though he could hardly imagine that was possible.

"I certainly do," Theresia said, giving him an amused smile. "Though it would depend on the lady, I suppose."

"Theresia! Stop this revolting talk!" Amalia snapped at her.

Theresia did not bother to answer, but took another spoonful of soup. The twinkle in her eyes betrayed that she was pleased with herself.

Marie did not say much. She just sat there, toying with her food but not eating much.

"Anyway, the funeral will take place the day after tomorrow," Carl went on to distract Amalia. "It is supposed to be a very grand affair, as one may have expected - just as he deserved."

"Will someone talk of something more cheerful, please," Amalia exclaimed. "I do not know what has got into all of you!"

"Do you think it is going to snow soon," Theresia suddenly asked, winking at Carl, but looking at Amalia with an earnest expression.

Carl had to suppress a grin. If you have nothing suitable to say, talk about the weather, his mother had always advised them. A typically English notion, he had often thought.

"How would I know," Amalia answered. "I would not mind if we had no snow this winter - it is just so annoying."

"Indeed, it is," Joseph managed to say.

"Now, Amalia, I think that Christmas would not be a real Christmas without snow," Marie said, seemingly brightening up for a short moment.

"So true," Theresia agreed. "I would love to have some snow - even if it only were for Christmas. After Christmas, it has my permission to melt away again."

"I do not care about snow, or the weather in general," Amalia said irritably.

"I am sorry, Amalia, I just thought that the weather might be a suitable topic for the dinner table," Theresia said, smiling mischievously.

After dinner, they gathered in the drawing room. If there were no guests, Joseph preferred to spend the whole evening in the company of his wife, and since Carl felt no inclination to stay all by himself - solitary drinking was, in his opinion, always a sign of alcoholism - he joined them, too.

Theresia was at the pianoforte, arranging some sheets of music. Carl decided to walk over and help her.

She smiled at him when he approached her and said, "Did Novacek arrive on time this morning, or did you have to find your way to the barracks all by yourself?"

"No, he was quite punctual - how do you know, anyway?"

"I met him when I went to see his sister. Is Novacek married, by the way? Or was he married?"

"He is married, as far as I know, but his wife lives in Prague. They own a shop there - and she has stayed there to keep an eye on it."

"Why does Novacek not want to get transferred then?"

Carl laughed. "I have my own suspicions as to that," he answered. "From what I have heard, his wife is worse than a drill sergeant."

"I am sure Novacek exaggerates. All men do."

"Do we?"

"Oh yes, you always fancy yourselves ill treated."

Carl looked at the sheet of music he was holding in his hand. "This looks like a new one," he said. "I do not think I know it already."

Theresia took the sheet from him and said, "Do you want to hear it then?"

"Are you going to play it for me?"

"Perhaps," she said with a playful smile. "If you ask me to, I shall."

"Madam, will you please do me the honour of playing this piece of music to me," Carl said, grinning. "No words can describe the pleasure your music..."

"Oh stop it," Theresia said, laughingly. "Now you sound like one of those romantics...that does not become you, sir."

"Does it not? I am sorry to hear it. Do you need someone to turn your pages?"

Why did she never notice how he felt about her, Carl wondered. What would he have to do to make her notice?

"I could do with someone ornamental - or useful - around, yes," Theresia said, still smiling.

"So, what am I? Useful or ornamental?"

Theresia laughed, sitting down at the piano. "Choose, Carl - but choose well."

"I shall try to be useful then. If you want someone ornamental, you should ask Captain Tilney instead," Carl said, before he could stop himself.

Theresia gave him a surprised look, but then she grinned. "Sorry, Carl, I am afraid Captain Tilney is not ornamental enough."

While Carl was still congratulating himself on having been such an idiot, she started to play.
It was a sweet, melancholy piece - just the thing he had needed right now, Carl thought. He watched her play - her fingers moved on the keys with such ease, and as always when she was playing, her mind seemed to wander off. If he could just stay where he was and watch her...
Until he noticed that the pages needed to be turned, Theresia had already done so herself, and said, casually, "It seems you have finally changed your mind and decided to be ornamental, cousin." She winked at him to indicate that she had not been entirely serious about what she had just said.

When she had finished the piece, she got up again, looked through the sheets of music and then said, quietly, "Carl, we need to talk."

"About what, Res....Theresia," he asked, when he saw her warning look.

"I met Colonel Fitzwilliam today," Theresia said.

"You did? Where?"

"In town, when I was walking back from Novacek's. Don't you think he is rather changed?"

"In what respect?"

"Carl, I thought you were friends, and there you are, trying to tell me that there was nothing wrong with him? Why did he not come to see us any more since that dinner party at Bāthory's? Besides, you have to admit he was behaving quite strangely then."

Carl thought for a moment. Theresia was right - though he had never really thought about it until now. But why did she ask him?

"We never talked about it, Theresia," he said, after a while. "Though one might call us friends, we are not that close that I could expect him to tell me everything."

"But close enough to notice if something is wrong, right?"

Carl sighed. "Why do you keep asking all those questions about Colonel Fitzwilliam, may I ask?"

Instead of answering, Theresia cast a telltale look at Marie.

"Marie? Did she say anything about it?"

"She hardly spoke of anything else lately," Theresia said, quietly. "I am getting worried about her - she blames herself for his behaviour that night, and for his not coming to see us ever since. I can tell her whatever I want, she does not believe me. Though I think I found out about the real reason today. I am sure Count Bāthory is behind all this."

Bāthory? What did he have to do with all this? Though Carl thought that b******** capable of anything.

"If you remember, Carl," Theresia went on, "his strange behaviour started after he had been alone with the Count after dinner. Whatever he told Colonel Fitzwilliam, it has made him avoid us. Can't you ask him? It is breaking my heart to see Marie like that."

Carl looked at his sister, who was sitting on the sofa, quietly working on some embroidery. It was true; she had been unusually silent of late. Was it possible...?
With a grin, he asked Theresia, "Do you want to me to act as a matchmaker, Theresia?"

"You have already done so, when you introduced them, Carl," Theresia answered. "Only nothing good will come of it if they keep avoiding each other like that."

She took some sheets of music, sat down at the piano and arranged the sheets in front of her.

"I cannot drag him here if he does not want to," Carl said, smiling at the notion.

"Well, find a way then," Theresia said. "I am not the expert on military tactics here, am I?"

Theresia was glad that she had mentioned that matter to Carl, and even happier that he wanted to take some action. Not that she had doubted it, but she had been a bit afraid that Carl might remember that Marie was his "little" sister after all, and that he might not believe her when she hinted at Marie's being in love. Besides, he had received that piece of news rather well, she thought. Her own brother would probably have....Theresia grinned. He would probably have grabbed Colonel Fitzwilliam by his collar and would have yelled, "Keep your hands off my sister, man, if you want to live to see your next birthday!"
Martin von Laudeck had never been a very nice man - Theresia knew that, and yet she had loved her brother - loved him still, despite all his faults and the mistakes he had made in his life.
If he were still alive, he would be the same age as Carl is, Theresia thought. Though the two of them are rather different. Carl teases me from time to time, true, but in general he is so kind ... Martin was charming, to be sure, and could be kind-hearted if he wanted to, but he was also awfully quick-tempered and then he could not vouch for his actions...just like me, really. We are both not very good sort of people, neither my brother nor I. Why, we ARE in an excellent mood again this morning, are we not?

She was waiting for Marie to join her. They had promised Leonie to go for a walk in the Prater with her, and though Marie had promised it, too, it had taken Theresia some effort and finally some severe threatening to make her keep her promise.
When Marie finally came, dressed in her walking clothes, she said to Theresia, "Do I really have to come with you? I would rather stay here...it looks cold outside."

"It is cold outside, and a walk will do you good," Theresia said mercilessly. "It is no good hanging around at home all the time."

"What if I catch a cold?"

"Stop whining, Marie. We promised Leonie to come, and come we shall."
Theresia was not in the mood to argue today - at least not with Marie. Had Amalia been there, she might have had an argument or two with her, but luckily she was not around.

A cold wind swept through the streets. Theresia sniffed. "Smells like snow," she said.

"Good! Let us go back inside, then," Marie answered, half turning around.

"Nice try, but it is no use, Marie," Theresia answered. "I am sure it will not snow before the afternoon - and by then we will be back home safely."

Marie sighed and gave in to her fate. They picked up Leonie at her home and then went in the direction of St Stephen's Square.

Suddenly, Leonie exclaimed, "There, I knew it!"

Theresia gave Leonie a curious look. "What did you know?"

"Just look over there, Captain Tilney with two belles...I know one of them slightly- good looks but no brains - certainly Captain Tilney's type."

"This sounds as if you were jealous, Leonie," Theresia said with a sly grin.

"Jealous? Me? Jealous? Theresia, I know better than to fall in love with such a ... why do I bother talking about him, anyway? It was just the same thing at the Arnsteins' ball - one moment he was flirting with me, the next moment he flirted with someone else. He's like a butterfly - nice to look at, but it seems he wants to taste every flower. I am not stupid enough to fall for a man like that."

Theresia gave Marie a meaningful smile and a wink. Even Marie had to smile at that, though she had not often felt like smiling lately.

Carl had been quite unsuccessful with his mission to get Colonel Fitzwilliam to speak. Since there was no way of getting anything out of him, Carl had resorted to the next best thing - he had to bring Fitzwilliam and Marie together again, preferably without their suspecting a thing...
Inviting Fitzwilliam to his home would not work, Carl was sure about that. If Fitzwilliam had managed to find excuses for the past two weeks, he would go on finding excuses. No, it had to be someone who could not at all be suspected of any evil plans...

Suddenly Carl noticed that the wind had stopped, and that it had begun to snow - not much, yet, but a look into the sky made him sure that there would soon be enough snow for...Carl turned on his heels and decided to go and see Countess Potocka.

"A sleigh ride to Schönbrunn," Marie exclaimed when Leonie told her about her aunt's latest fancy.

It had been snowing for the past three days, and this was the first sunny morning. The town looked glorious in the freshly fallen snow, and certainly the countryside would be breathtaking to look at.

"When is this expedition going to take place," Theresia asked, smiling. As if she did not know already - Carl had told her all about his plan when he had come home that evening.

"Tomorrow," Leonie answered. "Do you not think it will be wonderful to walk in the park there?"

"It certainly will," Marie said, with glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes.

Theresia smiled happily. It had been some time since she had seen her cousin so joyful.

Now only one problem had to be solved - to convince Amalia to stay at home.

This was not so problematic after all, as they found out soon. When Leonie asked her if Marie and Theresia were allowed to accompany her aunt and herself on an outing to Schönbrunn Park, she only nodded.

"Very well," she said. "I shall have tomorrow afternoon to myself then...this is rather convenient, I have to say." She glanced at Marie. "Your brother will be in the country with Count Bāthory, you know."

Theresia saw Marie wince at the mention of this man's name, and wished she could do something dreadful to Amalia.
But at least one thing was certain now: Neither Amalia nor Count Bāthory would be anywhere near Schönbrunn tomorrow. It looked as if it was going to be a perfect day.

Richard had given the matter much thought when Countess Potocka had invited him and Tilney to join their party to Schönbrunn. Certainly Marie would be with them, too, and he was not sure if he could bear it.

Those two weeks without her had been terrible...there had not been one moment when he had not been thinking of her. He could not avoid her forever, he knew that. Perhaps it would be best if he got over with the first meeting as soon as possible...at least Bāthory would not be there, that would make it easier for him.
Perhaps if he just avoided the occasions when he was likely to meet both of them? This was a thought - he could still see Marie from time to time, without being reminded of her engagement every single moment. This was the worst thing, to see her with Bāthory and to know that she was destined to be his wife - although she despised him, and he did not care much for her. Why her brother wished that match, was beyond Richard's understanding.

He had thought no one had noticed - until von Hertenberg had asked him quite frankly what had happened to make him avoid his family.
Richard had not known what to answer - certainly von Hertenberg had to know about Bāthory's marriage plans, and either he approved of them, in which case Marie might get into trouble for flirting with Richard, or they distressed von Hertenberg just as much as they distressed Richard himself.
Therefore he had not told von Hertenberg the truth, but had only said that he had not had any news from home for quite some time, which had made him uneasy. Von Hertenberg had given him an inquisitive look, but had not asked any more. A lucky escape, Richard had thought.

Next, Countess Potocka had sent him a letter of invitation. Had Richard not known better, he would have believed that von Hertenberg had had his hand in this - but on the other hand, he would certainly not need Countess Potocka if he wanted to bring him and Marie together. No, inviting him to that outing had been the Countess's own idea.

Countess Potocka was one of those people no one wanted to offend. Not because one had to be afraid of her, but because she was such a kind and caring sort of person that one would feel eternally guilty if one had done so. Therefore, Richard decided to accept the invitation. Besides, it would be better if the first meeting took place without Count Bāthory being near. Richard hated the thought of Bāthory's smug expression the other night.

They met in front of the Countess's Palais on Saturday morning. The gentlemen were to go on horseback, while the ladies were going in the Countess's elegant horse-drawn sleigh.
Richard could discern Marie from the others at once - she was most beautiful sight he had ever seen, in her fur coat. On recognising him, she gave him her most radiant smile, a sight that broke his heart. He had to admit to himself that he was a lost man.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam," she cried, hurrying to meet him. "I hardly dared hope that you would be with us today - what a pleasant surprise!"

She was so totally unaffected...she made him smile. "Miss von Hertenberg," he managed to say, despite the huge lump in his throat.

"What a rare sight," he heard Miss von Laudeck say next to him. "I suppose you have been very busy lately, sir?"

"Oh yes, I have," Richard answered; well aware of the reproachful tone in which Miss von Laudeck was addressing him.

She smiled at him playfully. "I shall forgive you for neglecting us, sir, if you promise not to make a habit of it."

"I would not dream of it, Miss von Laudeck," he replied politely. Both ladies looked as if they did not suspect a thing - how could this be so?

They went to the sleigh, and Richard helped the two ladies get inside. Captain Tilney had already taken care of Miss Potocka and was now most anxious to make her feel comfortable.

"Are you sure you are not cold, Miss Potocka?" he asked, giving her a concerned look. "You must consider that you have been ill recently - we would not want you to catch a cold again."

"I am perfectly comfortable, Captain Tilney, do not worry about me," Miss Potocka said, smiling.

"It would not be any trouble at all to fetch some more plaids and blankets, Miss Potocka."

"Sir, I assure you it is not necessary, not at all."

It was interesting to watch that couple, Richard thought. He had never seen Tilney so particularly attentive to anyone.
Still, Miss Potocka did not seem to be much impressed by his attentions - at least nothing in her behaviour could make one believe so. No wonder Tilney did not know what to make of her - one time she was flirting with him, the next time cold-shouldering him, and some other time she was very polite, but not betraying any interest in him apart from his conversation. Richard was sure that, if she went on like that, she would manage to drive Tilney mad. Yet he envied him - after all, there was still hope for Tilney. For Richard, there was none.

Chapter 12

Posted on Wednesday, 5 June 2002, at 1:16 a.m.

Countess Potocka took particular care that all the young ladies in her sleigh were well covered in blankets, furs and plaids before she allowed the excursion to start. The recollection of her niece's illness made her feel even more aware of such things as usual.
Then the journey started, with the gentlemen leading the way on horseback, and the ladies had some time to themselves.

"Your brother is such a charming young man, Miss von Hertenberg," the Countess said to Marie. "I wonder why he is not married yet. Certainly someone with his looks and agreeable manners cannot fail to make a good impression on young ladies."

"I suppose, Madam," Marie answered quietly, "that he never cared for any lady enough to want her to marry him. Perhaps he has not found the right woman yet."

Countess Potocka laughed. "Young men are just too hard to please nowadays. There are enough pretty young girls around, are there not?"

"Aunt, please," Leonie said reproachfully. "I think you can trust Colonel von Hertenberg to handle his own business very well."

The Countess laughed. "In my day, in Empress Maria Theresia's time, the Empress would have found someone for him if he had not. - But then," she continued, "he seemed to be quite fond of Ilona Horvāth once - and then she married Count Bāthory. Perhaps he just never got over that."

Marie shook her head. "Madam, I am sure you are mistaken. My brother never felt more for Ilona Horvāth than friendship. Do you not think so, too," she turned to Theresia, seeking support.

"Think what, Marie," Theresia said, seemingly distracted.

"What do you think about Carl and Ilona Horvāth? Countess Potocka said he was fond of her."

"How would I know," Theresia answered. "He was in their company often enough, the Horvāths', I mean."

"But what about Ilona?"

Theresia looked at Marie angrily. "I said before, how would I know? If it is of so much importance to you, why don't you go and ask him?"

Marie turned back to the Countess, deciding to leave Theresia alone for the moment. It did not look as if the topic pleased her.

"I do not think he was in love with Ilona Horvāth, Madam," she said resolutely. "If he had been, I would have noticed."

The Countess nodded. "But still it seems strange that he is not married yet. Well, he did not have enough time to find himself a wife, what with all this unpleasant business going on..."

Marie suppressed a smile. Countess Potocka was certainly a lady who would never use strong words in her language - referring to years of war as "unpleasant business" was euphemism at its best.

"And Captain Tilney, too," the Countess pursued her train of thought further. "It must be their profession, no doubt. Captain Tilney is such an attentive gentleman, is he not?"

"Oh yes, he is," Leonie said dryly. "He manages to divide his attentions so equally, too."

"My dear, you have to admit he called on us every day when you were ill, and I shall never forget the service he rendered us the evening when we had to leave the ball so early. What would have happened if Captain Tilney had not been there?"

"Someone else would have helped us then, I suppose," Leonie answered, indifferent to the Captain's virtue.

Theresia only gave Marie a significant look and did not comment on the Countess's statement. Marie had to hide her smile. It seemed as if Captain Tilney had managed to gain the Countess's favour with his charms. He was a clever man, indeed - with the aunt's support he might be able to win the niece's heart sooner or later, even if it did not look like it at the moment - at least Leonie tried hard not to show any signs of approval. It might be interesting to watch what would become of those two.

After a delightful ride across the beautiful, snow-covered countryside outside Vienna, they finally arrived at the gates of the Schönbrunn Park, and got out of the sleigh.
Schönbrunn had been intended as an Austrian equivalent to Versailles, and it had been the favourite summer residence of the Imperial family ever since Empress Maria Theresia had had it built.
At the moment, someone else resided in Schönbrunn - Marie Louise, the former Empress of France, and her son. Marie Louise had chosen to return to her native Austria, while her husband had been banished to the island of Elba. Now she lived here, supported by her father, the Emperor, but she led a rather secluded life. She did not take part in the festivities of the Congress, and when the foreign guests had visited Schönbrunn, she had left the palace for a few days.

The park surrounding the palace and the "menagerie" were a very popular place for outings, however, and there were always people walking in the park or looking at the exotic animals in the cages...

"Countess Potocka," they heard someone exclaim when they had just got out of the sleigh outside the gates.
The Countess turned into the direction where the exclamation had come from and broke into a radiant smile.

"Countess Kinsky! We have not met for quite some time," she said, welcoming her friend and introducing her party to her.

"Von Laudeck...von Laudeck...let me think..." Countess Kinsky said when Theresia was introduced to her. "I met a Martin von Laudeck once, years ago, he was acquainted with my son - is he any relation of yours?"

"Martin von Laudeck was my brother, Madam." Theresia said.

"Ah! Indeed! Well, it must have been an unhappy situation for your family, Miss von Laudeck, when he got arrested."

"His getting killed was even worse, Madam."

Countess Potocka knew that her friend was treading on dangerous ground here, and suggested cheerfully, "Why do you not start your walk, and leave me here with my friend? I shall follow you in a minute - just never mind me, I have one or two things I want to talk about with Countess Kinsky."

"Are you sure, Aunt," Leonie asked her. "We can wait, if you want us to."

"Oh, my dear child, it is so considerate of you to think of me, but never mind, my dear, just go ahead, I shall be fine. I know you are in good hands, after all. Colonel von Hertenberg, you will take good care of the ladies, I trust."

While Carl assured the Countess that he would do his best, Marie had to grin. He reminded her too much of his own nineteen-year-old self, when his mother had charged him to take his sister and cousin to the Prater for a ride. Carl had never liked to be a chaperon - or "nursery maid", as he had called it then.

They entered the park, walking along an avenue of chestnut trees. Theresia had regained her good spirits; she led the way, delighting in everything she saw, and pointing everything out to Leonie and Captain Tilney who were walking with her. Marie stayed behind with Colonel Fitzwilliam and Carl. They were talking animatedly, recollecting something or other Major Horvāth had said, and Marie was happy just to listen to them. She had missed Colonel Fitzwilliam's company for so long that she was contented with his being there, he did not have to say anything to her.
Besides, sometimes he did address her, and he seemed to be nearly himself again - nearly.

Finally, they reached a fountain, and Theresia, Leonie and Captain Tilney were already waiting there.

"Have you seen my aunt," Leonie asked them anxiously. "She said she would join us soon, and now she is nowhere to be seen. I hope she did not get lost."

"Leonie, your aunt has been here more often than we have, I guess," Marie answered. "I suppose she is still talking with Countess Kinsky - she looked like someone who has a lot to say."

Everyone laughed, even Colonel Fitzwilliam - Marie was glad to see it, she had already feared he might have entirely lost his disposition for laughter and entertaining company.

"I cannot help it, I am a bit uneasy," Leonie said.

"We shall wait for your aunt then, Miss Potocka," Carl said to her reassuringly. "There is enough time for us to wait for her and still see everything we want to."

They had waited for about a quarter of an hour, when Theresia became a bit restless. She wanted to go on, she wanted to move. After having been confined to the house for several days she could think of nothing better than to run through the snow and make the most of it as long as it was there.

"I think these two ladies have a lot to tell each other," she said. "Do you still want to wait? Who knows how long it takes your aunt to come here, Leonie, and in the meantime we will freeze - all she is going to find will be some snowmen, if we keep standing here for much longer."

"Oh, you can move on, if you like," Leonie said with a smile, "I shall wait for her here. I am sure she will come here soon."

"Theresia, we cannot leave Miss Potocka behind all by herself," Carl said. "Cannot we wait for some more minutes?"

Theresia sighed. "Very well then, let us wait some more."

"I could stay here with Miss Potocka," Captain Tilney offered.

"This is not at all necessary, sir," Leonie answered. "I have an idea - I shall walk back to where we came from, I am sure I will meet my aunt on the way - and then we will meet again. What do you think?"

"Walk back, all by yourself, Miss Potocka," Captain Tilney asked.

"Of course all by myself, Captain Tilney," Leonie replied. "What can possibly happen to me in this place, anyway? Besides, I will only be alone until I meet my aunt."

"What if you do not meet her at all," Captain Tilney said. "Then you will be obliged to walk across the park all by yourself to meet us again - it is not to be thought of."

Marie noticed how Colonel Fitzwilliam gave Carl an amused wink. Carl cleared his throat.

"If you could just delay your argument for a moment," he said, resolutely, "we could find a solution to your problem. Some of us want to move on - so do I, in fact, it is getting rather cold for just standing around. I think Miss Potocka's idea of going to look for her aunt is acceptable - only, as Captain Tilney pointed out, Miss Potocka, we cannot really let you do this all by yourself."

Leonie gave him an angry look. "Why not, Colonel von Hertenberg?"

"Because it is just not the thing to do for a young lady, Miss Potocka, besides I want to prevent you from getting lost, too. If every one of us ends up somewhere in the park, looking for the rest of the party, we are not going to have a really enjoyable day, believe me. So, Miss Potocka, my conclusion is that you have three possibilities: either you come along with us, or we all of us walk back with you - or you choose at least one of us to walk with you."

"You have never sounded more like a colonel than at the moment, sir," Leonie said, grinning.

"Madam, believe me, I am still very liberal - had I spoken like a Colonel, I would not have allowed you any choice. So, what do you think?"

Everyone's eyes were on Leonie, who was standing there, biting her lips, and trying to get out of her dilemma.

"It is not necessary for all of you to accompany me," she began.

Marie watched Carl. She had seen him act like that before - usually with Theresia - showing that he would not give in and that she'd better choose one of the possibilities soon, or he'd choose for her.

"Well..." Leonie said, hesitatingly, and finally turned to Captain Tilney. "You may come along, if you like," she said haughtily. "I am sure my aunt is not very far, anyway."

"If it should take you longer to find her, however," Carl said to Captain Tilney, "we shall wait for you in front of the Gloriette."

He pointed to a building on a hill. Captain Tilney nodded. "See you there at the latest, then," he answered, and followed Leonie, who had already started her way without waiting for him to finish his conversation with Carl, let alone to follow her.

Leonie marched on, not caring that Captain Tilney was following her, or if he was following her at all. She had not wanted this situation, and Captain Tilney had been too rash to offer his company for this walk - well, if he thought now that he could just fool her once again with his good manners and his way of talking to her, he was mistaken.
She heard his footsteps approach her and, in casting a sidelong glance, she noticed that he was walking next to her, neither talking nor offering his arm. Actually, he looked a bit sad, Leonie thought, and felt sorry for him despite herself.
The next moment, she scolded herself for it, telling herself that this was just one of his tricks - he had noticed that she was angry with him, and wanted her to relent. He could just as well give up at once, she was not interested in him, not at all, and she did not care what he thought about her.

"Miss Potocka," Leonie heard him say. She stopped and looked at him.

"Yes, Captain Tilney?"

"Would you do me a favour, Miss Potocka? There is one thing I..." A couple came towards them, and he stopped his speech for a moment.

"There is one thing I need to know, Miss Potocka, or I shall run mad," he finished when the other couple had passed them.

Leonie gave him a questioning look, but did not say anything.

"Oh, please do not look at me like this, Miss Potocka, and please say something - have I done anything wrong, have I offended you? I cannot go on like this, I cannot bear it, I need to know. Why do you hate me?"

"Hate you, Captain Tilney? This is a rather strong expression, is it not? I do not hate you."

"Why do you dislike me, then?"

"I do not dislike you, either. Who told you so?"

"You do, with every look you give me, with your behaviour, with the things you say. I am not a fool, Miss Potocka, I can read the signs very well."

Leonie shook her head, unable to say anything. She had never thought that her way of treating him might have such an effect.

"Sir, if you had the impression that I disliked you, I am very sorry for it, it was not my intention to insult you. I sometimes..." She broke off and turned away from him. He did not have to know her reasons, telling him about them would also give him a clue as to what her feelings for him really were.

"Yes, Miss Potocka?" He touched her shoulder from behind and she turned around again, looking into his eyes.

"I cannot explain it, Captain Tilney, I am sorry," she said, blushing.

He sighed. "Very well, Miss Potocka, I am not going to press you to say anything you might regret later. Let me just tell you that your inconstant behaviour lately - encouraging me one moment, cold as ice the next - hurts me more than I can say. I am torn between hope and despair, and even better men than myself would not be able to endure this for long."

Hope? Hope for what? Was he just practising his tricks on her, or was he - for once - serious?

"You may not have noticed, perhaps..." he went on, and then paused a moment.

"What exactly are you talking about, Captain Tilney?"

"Perhaps you will not believe me, Miss Potocka, I am afraid your ill opinion of me will prevent it, but I swear I have never said this to any woman before. I love you, Miss Potocka, more than my own life. I went through hell since September, trying to suppress my feelings at first, not realising them until...until you fell ill. And you have done nothing to relieve my suffering, on the contrary, you have made it worse. You broke my heart - not once, not twice, but every time we met."

Leonie stared at him in disbelief. He had to be in earnest, no one would sink so low as to act like this without being sincere. Yet...she knew that sort of men, did she not?

"How am I to know that this is not a trick, Captain Tilney?" she asked him.

"A trick? Leonie, I am practically begging you on my knees, and you are talking about tricks? Do you really believe I would make such a fool of myself for someone I do not really care for," he shouted angrily.

He stopped, drew a deep breath, and then said, more calmly, "Let us go and find your aunt, Miss Potocka, to relieve you of my presence as soon as possible. Please forgive me my behaviour, be assured it will not happen any more. It was a mistake, and entirely my own fault. Let us not talk about it any more."

Leonie looked at him. His face was like stone, only his eyes were incredibly sad. She felt like crying. Why was it that she was always at her worst with him? He had never done her wrong, had always been kind to her, and he did not deserve to be treated with such contempt - especially not after what he had just said to her. He was walking next to her, not even looking at her.

This is it, Leonie thought. You have managed to make yourself unhappy, with one stupid sentence - why did you not hold your tongue?

"Captain Tilney," she began, hesitatingly.

He did not answer, but at least he looked at her again.

"Will you wait for one moment? I would like to .... I would like to tell you something."

He nodded.

"Sir, from the first moment I saw you, I thought you were a flirt - and a rather irresponsible one, too. I heard rumours, too, about you and some ladies in Viennese society. When you started to be particularly attentive to me - you see, I did notice it - I thought that you would only want to add one more trophy to your extensive collection, and, to be honest, I did not want to be trifled with. This is why I treated you so abominably - I did not want you to hurt me."

"I could never hurt you, Miss Potocka...." he said.

"Be careful with the use of words like "always" or "never", sir. - My brother, who lives in Warsaw, is very much like you, Captain Tilney, as far as his inclination for flirting is concerned, and I have witnessed the pain some of my dearest friends have felt because of this. He did not hurt them intentionally, but it happened nevertheless, he played with their hearts and broke them when he got tired of them. You remember when I told you that I knew your sort? I was referring to my brother then."

Captain Tilney gave a bitter laugh. "I admit that I used to be a flirt, but I never said I was a saint, did I? Besides, once I had met you, you were the only woman I paid any attention to."

"This is not true! I saw you flirt with some woman or other nearly every time we met. So how am I to believe that your feelings for me are really sincere, even if you tell me so?"

He gave her an enquiring look. "For someone who does not care about me, Miss Potocka, the fact that I talked to other women has quite an effect on you."

"I never said I did not care for you, Captain Tilney."

There, now she had said it. She did care for him, she cared for him a great deal, and she did not mind if he found out - not any more.

He took both her hands and looked into her eyes. "Leonie, are you trying to tell me that there is still hope?"

She smiled. "There is always hope, sir."

With an entreating look, he said, "Leonie, you just told me that you knew how painful it is to be trifled with, therefore - please - tell me if there is any chance for me to win your heart. Let me know what I can do to prove myself worthy of you, and if there is no chance for me, tell me so, too. Do not let me go on like that, because I cannot bear the uncertainty. If every hope is in vain, I would rather know it now."

She looked at him and gave him a reassuring smile. "You have already won my heart, Captain Tilney, though I was afraid to show it."

"Leonie, I..." Again they were interrupted by a group of people coming their way. Leonie walked on, trying hard to hide her happiness from them. Captain Tilney followed her, took her hand and drew her near him.

"Leonie, perhaps I am too rash but I would like to take advantage of this opportunity ... can you imagine yourself happy with me? Would you consider marrying me?"

Leonie laughed. "I would, Captain Tilney."

This was the first time she saw him smile at her again, for some time. "Is there anything I can do to persuade you to call me by my given name, then?"

"Not yet," Leonie said, smiling. "Not until our engagement is made known in public. You need to ask for my uncle's consent first, and my uncle is in Warsaw..."

"What about your aunt?"

"She cannot make that decision all by herself, Captain Tilney. She needs to ask my uncle's permission, too. So, until we do not know if my uncle is in favour of our marriage, would it be too much to ask of you to keep our engagement secret? I have to admit that I want to prepare my friends for such extraordinary news."

Captain Tilney sighed. "I would do anything for you, Leonie...but is this really necessary? Why cannot I show my happiness openly? We are not doing anything wrong, so why do you want us to hide?"

"Only until my uncle gives his permission for our marriage. After that, you are free to tell anyone you like about our engagement."

Marie walked with Colonel Fitzwilliam, with Theresia and Carl following them close behind.
She could hear that there was an argument going on between the two of them, though she could not quite tell what the argument was about.

She smiled. "I sometimes wonder how they manage to get along so well, although they always quarrel," she said to Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"Perhaps there is a great deal of affection in the case as well," he answered.

"Are you trying to convince me again, Colonel?"

"No, Miss von Hertenberg, it seems we think completely differently in that matter, and we shall just leave it at that."

For a few minutes they just walked along the lane towards Gloriette Hill, and none of them talked, until Marie could not take the silence any more.

"What do you think, sir, is this not a beautiful place?"

"Very beautiful, Miss von Hertenberg. I am glad to be here."

"So am I ... this park is one of my favourite places, and I am happy to be able to show it to you."

He gave her a faint smile. "I would like to see all your favourite places in town, Miss von Hertenberg, if you care to show me around."

Marie gave him a warm smile. "I would very much like to, sir."

The Colonel seemed to become less distant for a moment, and said, "Perhaps we can find some time..."

He might have said more, only Carl joined them and he did not go on. Carl seemed to be angry about something, and Marie had a strong suspicion that Theresia had caused his anger.
Since Colonel Fitzwilliam was not inclined to continue their conversation, but started one with Carl instead, Marie turned around to walk with Theresia and to find out what had happened.

Theresia, too, looked quite discontented.

"Why do you look so gloomy," Marie asked her, smiling. "You were in such excellent spirits just before."

"Ask your brother," Theresia said angrily.

"I thought you had an argument. What was it about?"

"He never takes me seriously," Theresia said. "He treats me like a schoolmaster would treat one of his pupils. I am not going to bear it! I thought I had made him get rid of his arrogance for once, but no - you know what he said? He advised me to THINK!"

Marie laughed. "Sounds like a good piece of advice to me, actually."

"Marie, I am not joking. We were talking about Leonie and I said that it was not fair of him to let her walk off with Captain Tilney all alone ... he said she had had the choice and could have asked someone else to join them, but she didn't."

"Well, he is right - she didn't."

"One more word like that and I'll rub your face into the snow," Theresia snapped. Then she added, with an evil grin, " That gives me an idea..."

She bent down, picked up some snow and formed it into a snowball.

"What are you going to do?" Marie asked.

"I am going to discuss the matter with him," Theresia said, still grinning. "In a responsible, grown-up way."

With these words, she took aim and threw the snowball at Carl, hitting him right between the shoulder blades. She hid behind Marie and picked up some more snow.

"What the..." Carl shouted, turning around. "Theresia, stop behaving..."

This time the snowball hit his hat.

Carl started to laugh, and, in picking up his hat from the ground, picked up some snow too.

"Just you wait," he said. "This means revenge, cousin!"

"You have to get me first," Theresia called to him, peeking over Marie's shoulder.

Carl aimed his snowball at her.

"Carl, if you hit me, you are in for trouble," Marie said. "I have not done anything."

"I won't hit you, Marie," he said, looking at Theresia with a grin, and suddenly darting towards them. "I'm going to get at you, Theresia!"

Theresia, who had been holding on to Marie, ran away towards the hill, and Marie who had not been prepared for the sudden push Theresia had given her, found herself sitting on the ground the next moment.

She sat there laughing, unable to get up. Then she noticed Colonel Fitzwilliam kneeling next to her.

"Are you all right," he asked, anxiously.

"I am fine, thank you," she answered, still laughing.

He smiled at her. "It was not nice of your cousin to push you," he said. "You could have hurt yourself."

"I am certain she did not mean any harm," she answered.

He looked so concerned - this moment repaid her for weeks of unhappiness on his account.

The Colonel got up and reached out his hands to her.

"Let me help you to get up, Miss von Hertenberg," he said.

Marie took his hands, and he pulled. Before she knew what had happened, she was in his arms - well, nearly, and only for one moment. She looked into his eyes, and gave him her sweetest smile.

"Thank you, Colonel," she said, and hoped he might not let go of her hands.

"You're welcome," he answered, smiling at her.

His eyes... Marie thought.I could get lost in them forever.

The spell was broken by a loud shriek they heard from Theresia. Apparently, she, too, had slipped in the snow and had fallen.
But she was not inclined to give in, it seemed. Carl, who had remembered that he was, after all, a gentleman, and had hurried to assist her, was rewarded for his efforts with a handful of snow thrown into his face.

Theresia used this short moment of distraction to get away from him once more, and did not let him catch her until he had chased her all the way across the hill.

Then they were standing there, and for a moment Marie was inclined to believe Colonel Fitzwilliam. Carl was very close to Theresia, holding her and saying something to her that made her laugh. Had she not known that this was their usual way of dealing with each other, she might have been tempted to believe they were lovers.
But she had often seen Carl act like that - and he was about the only man Theresia suffered to get near enough to hold her around the waist, like Carl did.

The rest of their walk was not interrupted by any quarrels or snowball - battles, and so they finally reached the Gloriette building. Leonie, Captain Tilney and Countess Potocka were already waiting for them.

Marie was happy to see that Colonel Fitzwilliam at ease again, and she enjoyed herself very much with him.

Back at the sleigh, he helped her to get in, and said, "Miss von Hertenberg, your hands are rather cold. You should do something about it."

"What would you suggest, sir?"

He laughed. "Perhaps I shall find one or two methods until we are back in town."

"I shall try to keep them from freezing meanwhile," Marie answered.

Back in town, they were at the von Hertenbergs' place to get warm again. Baroness von Hertenberg had invited them over to have some hot wine, chestnuts and gingerbread.

She listened eagerly to their description of the trip (von Hertenberg was clever enough to avoid any allusion to the topic of snowballs), and regretted that she had not been able to join them.

After dinner, they sat in the drawing room, and Miss von Laudeck, for the first time, refused to play for them.

"My fingers are still so cold," she said, "I am afraid I will not be able to play tonight. Some other time, perhaps."

Richard laughed. "Perhaps if you had not allowed your gloves to get wet, Miss von Laudeck, your fingers would not be quite so cold."

She laughed, and said, "Sometimes one has to set priorities, sir."

Richard turned to Marie. "What about your hands, Miss von Hertenberg, have they recovered?"

"Tolerably," she said, laughing.

Richard had to admit that he had enjoyed that day - considering that he had been so afraid of being with her at first, he had done well. That moment in the park, when he had nearly held her in his arms ... two weeks ago, there would not have been any question about what he would have done at that moment. But that had been before...it was not to be thought of now. He had to consider himself lucky that Miss von Laudeck had prevented him from going any further.

"You know, Fitzwilliam," von Hertenberg said suddenly, "we still owe you an opportunity to get even with us - you remember your first evening here? You and Marie lost a game of cards against Theresia and me, what do you think of playing again tonight?"

Richard could think of nothing better than this, but he wanted Marie to make the decision.

"What do you think, Miss von Hertenberg?"

Marie laughed. "Let us show them their limits, Colonel," she said. "They will lose shamefully, no doubt. I am in the right mood to let them lose tonight."

"I would like to see that," Miss von Laudeck remarked dryly. "Don't cry when you lose again, cousin."

The game started, and Richard noticed that von Hertenberg made some rather stupid mistakes. Was he trying to let them win?

Richard did not really care, all he did care about at the moment was the sight of Marie sitting opposite him, smiling and laughing nearly all the time, and giving him instructions about what card he was to play next.

Finally, Miss von Laudeck and von Hertenberg had to give in, and Miss von Laudeck admitted grudgingly that they had won the game.

"It is your fault, Carl," she said to her cousin.

"I admit I was a bit unlucky tonight," he said with a smile. "Perhaps I am lucky in love instead?"

"Not likely. I always thought that your lifestyle was surprisingly respectable, for an officer, I mean. Hardly any drinking or gambling, or womanising. You may get court-martialled one day for neglecting your duty."

Richard laughed. "May I ask you where you got your opinion of officers from, Miss von Laudeck?"

"Novacek," she answered, smiling playfully. "He tells me all sorts of things."

"I will have to have a serious word with Novacek, then," von Hertenberg answered. "Be assured, Theresia, that I am going to try and mend my ways. No more respectable life for me, I shall take up gambling and drinking as of today."

"What about love affairs, then," Miss von Laudeck asked with a mischievous grin.

"Oh, everything at its time," von Hertenberg replied.

Part 13

Posted on Friday, 7 June 2002, at 12:57 p.m.

Vienna, December 1814

Dear Cousin Darcy,

When I started my journey to Vienna, I actually believed that I might be back by Christmas, but I was mistaken.
The negotiations are taking longer than anyone might have thought, and I guess that there are enough diplomats in this town who are quite happy that the Congress seems to be going on for months. Vienna is delightful, a glittering city showing itself at its best, and everyone would feel sorry to leave it - everyone but me, I ought to say. For several reasons, I do not wish to stay here much longer than necessary.
I hope everyone is well in Pemberley - give my regards to Mrs Darcy and Georgiana. I know they will be disappointed about my absence - I had promised Georgiana to spend this Christmas in Pemberley, and am now stuck in Vienna instead. Next Christmas I will keep my promise.
However, I have sent her a present to make up for my absence - Colonel von Hertenberg's cousin, Miss von Laudeck, has been so kind as to help me with finding some pieces of music Georgiana is not likely to get in England. At least she will have enough time to practise, I am afraid I will not be able to examine her before next spring.
We have had an invitation to spend Christmas Eve in the company of Countess Potocka and her niece. As far as I have heard, we shall dine at her Palais and attend the Midnight Mass at St Stephen's together.
Lady Castlereagh has invited us all to a sleigh ride to Grinzing on Christmas Day, and we shall spend Boxing Day with the von Hertenbergs.
You see, although I am far from my family, I shall not be lonely at Christmas, there is no need to worry about me.

I wish you and your family a happy and peaceful Christmas.

Yours, etc.
R. Fitzwilliam

Richard sighed. Unfortunately, he could not write down how he really felt. He could not spoil Darcy's Christmas, and he knew his cousin well enough to know that he would be concerned if he had any bad news from Vienna. No, he had to get along on his own.

His next task was to answer a letter from his Aunt Catherine, a rather alarming one. She had decided that she was needed in Vienna - though it was a mystery to Richard what had led her to the conclusion. Perhaps she wanted to scold the delegates into harmony? Even Metternich would have to resign, with Lady Catherine being near...
Lady Catherine de Bourgh was about the last person Richard needed in Vienna - and now he had to try to dissuade her from visiting him, at the same time telling her what a pity it was that she could not come. Diplomacy was needed - perhaps he should ask von Hertenberg for advice?
He had told Horvāth about his problem, and Horvāth had said, "So what? Why don't you let the old battleaxe - sorry, your aunt, of course - just come here?"

"You do not know her, Horvāth. Believe me, we would not want her to be here. My annual Easter visit at Rosings Park is enough to last me for the rest of the year."

"So, that kind of aunts also exists in England? And here I thought that this particular species only lived in Hungary...just tell her you don't want her to come, then, that will do."

"Oh yes, it will make her pack her trunks and leave Rosings immediately."

Thus he had postponed that letter until he realised that it was no use - he had to write to Aunt Catherine sooner or later, and the sooner he did it, the better it was. If he remained silent for too long, she might rush to Vienna anyway. He remembered one more thing Horvāth had said to him.... "Whatever you tell her, don't lie - if she finds out you will never hear the end of it. Of course, if she gets a wrong impression...that is another story...that's my way of dealing with my Aunt Erszebet, at least, and it works quite well."

Richard started to write.

Vienna, December 1814

Dear Aunt,
I am surprised to hear that you have decided to undertake such a long and dangerous journey - dangerous especially at this time of year. Although I am full of gratitude for your affection, which is, no doubt, the reason for your plans, I cannot advise it....

When he was finished, Richard reread the letter and smiled contently. He had used everything in his power, had hinted at the bad effect the journey might have on Cousin Anne's health, had mentioned that he was invited to spend Christmas with the Countess Potocka ("whose palace in Warsaw is said to be one of the most beautiful ones in that part of Europe"), and that no one knew for certain how long the negotiations might take ("It can very well be that I shall be back to England in time for my annual visit to Rosings") - so her visit would be a complete waste of time and money. For someone who was as prudent in money matters as Lady Catherine was, this was the ultimate temptation. If that did not keep Lady Catherine away from Vienna, only a miracle could help.

It was Christmas Eve, and the von Hertenberg family were having their traditional Christmas dinner.
During the day, the meals were very simple, but in the evening the family started to celebrate Christmas with a special dinner, partly following the Austrian traditions, but also honouring the late Baroness and her English ways.

After dinner, they gathered in the drawing room, and sang some Christmas songs. Even Amalia seemed to be disposed to take part in the entertainment. Theresia was at the piano, accompanying them, and Marie was standing next to the large nativity scene that took up a large part of the room. During the last three days, she and Theresia had spent most of their time in placing the little statues where they belonged.

"The two of you have done an excellent job again," Carl said to her. "It is good to see that someone respects the old traditions in this house."

Marie blushed. "Thank you, Carl."

Carl smiled and said, with a look at Amalia, "Things have changed a lot, have they not?"

"Oh yes, they have...though she does not mean it, perhaps, she just does not care..."

Carl nodded. "Just show her her limits sometimes, will you? Don't let her push you around."

Marie laughed. "I will not, depend on it."

Amalia and Joseph sat down on the sofa, while Carl and Marie remained with Theresia, who was now playing some of Marie's favourite pieces.
Marie looked at Carl - he was watching Theresia intently.

"Are you going to learn her by heart, Carl," she said, smilingly.

He laughed. "Not necessary, Marie, I think I already know her by heart."

While Theresia was playing, one might have fired a cannon next to her without her noticing, but when she finished, she became aware of her surroundings again.

"Why are the two of you staring at me like that," she asked with a grin. "Is there anything unusual about me? A black spot on my nose? Or is there a stain on my dress?"

"None of these, Theresia," Carl said. "Everything is perfect."

She smiled. "I do not believe you, Carl, you are staring at me too critically. But since it is Christmas, I shall forgive you."

"You do not take my compliments seriously then?"

"No, you are my cousin and therefore you are supposed to be nice to me." She grinned.
"I admit you are doing very well, though."

"Why, thank you, Theresia." He bowed to her, and turned to Marie.

"We are going to meet the English gentlemen tonight, by the way - they are going to come to St Stephen's at midnight."

"Are they?" Marie blushed and hoped that her brother might not notice.

"Countess Potocka has invited them to come along, and they have accepted. Captain Tilney seemed to be quite eager to come to church with the two ladies - as for the rest, I am sure they are just joining to be polite."

"Are you going to listen to us for a moment," they heard Joseph ask them. Everyone turned to him.

"Certainly, Joseph. This does sound important," Carl said. "Fire away."

"Well...we have some important news for you, and we wanted to wait until Christmas...it seemed like the perfect occasion for it."

"The perfect occasion for what?" Carl asked, when Joseph's pause was getting rather long.

"We have a delightful piece of news for you," Joseph answered. "Next year there is going to be ... an addition to our family."

"Indeed!" Marie exclaimed.

"Yes," Amalia said, "there is another young von Hertenberg on his or her way."

"This is excellent news," Carl said. "And about when can we expect our new nephew - or niece?"

"In July," Amalia replied.

"July," Carl repeated, and reached out his hand to Joseph. "Congratulations!"

"I am very happy for both of you," Marie said to Joseph, with a smile. "I am already looking forward to having a baby in the house."

Theresia, too, congratulated the happy parents-to-be...that was, the happy father-to-be, because though Amalia was smiling, she did not look too happy.

Since Christmas Eve, when he had seen Marie in church, Richard had been wondering if he should join the Tilneys on Boxing Day or not. However, it would have been foolish to stay at home all by himself. It would only make matters worse, there never was much use in spending one's day in quiet brooding - company kept him from thinking too much, at least.

They were to meet the von Hertenbergs for a walk in the Prater, and were to dine with them later. Two members of the family were missing, however - the Baron and Baroness had not come.
Von Hertenberg explained that his sister-in-law did not feel up to going for a walk today, but would be happy to receive them as her guests in the evening.

General Tilney enquired if it would not be more prudent to cancel the appointment altogether, considering the Baroness's ill health.

Von Hertenberg laughed, and said, "Believe me, General, she would never forgive you if you did such a thing. My sister-in-law is looking forward to the evening, and she is perfectly fine."

"What is wrong with your sister-in-law?" Richard asked Marie.

"Nothing, really - I think she just thought it was too cold for her to walk today, and my brother has stayed at home to keep her company - he was away very often lately, and wants to make up for his absence."

"Just as a good husband ought to do."

Marie laughed. "I cannot really talk about things I know nothing about, sir, but I guess you are right."

Miss von Laudeck was talking to the Tilneys. She had heard that they had attended the Opera lately, and wanted to know everything about the performance.

"Have you ever seen "The Magic Flute" before," she asked.

"No, never," Tilney replied.

She laughed. "Did you understand the lyrics well enough?"

"I did, surprisingly. Do you not think my German has improved, Miss von Laudeck?"

"It certainly has, Captain Tilney. So, how did you enjoy yourself at the opera? My friend Miss Potocka said it was "quite an interesting performance", which can only mean two things - either she did not like it or she was otherwise engaged during the performance."

"Miss von Laudeck!" Tilney was shocked.

"She did not tell me what it was, though, so I suppose it was the latter, and I am going to find out - you will have to help me tonight. Perhaps if you shared your recollections with her..."

Tilney laughed. "I am quite certain you will not need my help, Miss von Laudeck."

"We will see ... now, you did not tell me anything about the performance yet. What was it like?"

"It was excellent, really..." he answered.

"You do not want to talk about it." Miss von Laudeck said, smiling. Richard wondered why she always seemed to hit the nail on the head.

"Forgive me for being such a nuisance, sir," she went on, "it was only that "The Magic Flute" was the first opera I ever saw - my mother took me to see it on one of her last evenings in Vienna."

"You could never be a nuisance, Miss von Laudeck," Tilney answered gallantly. "On the contrary."

"I see you still have some faith in me," she laughed.

The Baroness welcomed them with all due courtesy, apologised for her being absent in the afternoon and expressed her wish that they had had a pleasant walk.
Had Richard not had an impression of how unpleasant she could be, he might not have believed that this lady was capable of any unkindness.

The dinner was excellent - and Richard was surprised that, among many Austrian specialties, there were also English dishes. He had never felt much of an English influence in this house - apart from the English language, that was.

After dinner, they went to the drawing room, and Richard went to have a look at the huge nativity scene. It was not just Mary, Joseph and the child - a whole landscape was there, like a theatre stage, to display the events of Christmas and the following days, according to the Bible.

"This is beautiful," he said to Marie, who was standing next to him.

She sighed. "Oh yes, it is. You know, my father used to be very fond of it - he set it up himself, not allowing any of us to help him. He did not want us children to break the figurines, I guess."

Richard smiled. He could imagine the scene very well - the father carefully placing the little statues in the scene, and his children watching him and begging to be allowed to touch them.

"We knew that Christmas was very near, once our father began spending so much time here, and he added some figurines every year - he carved them himself, some of them, at least - and my mother painted them, or made the clothes for the more important ones. Do you see that innkeeper over there?"

"Innkeeper?"

"Yes, over there, in the town of Bethlehem. One of the landlords who refuse to give Mary and Joseph a room for the night. My father made him."

Richard took a closer look at the figurine. "Amazing," he said. "Excellent work."

They spent some time, Marie explaining all the scenes to him. Even the three magi were on their way to meet St Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus - Marie told Richard that they got a bit nearer to Bethlehem every day.

"Who sets up the scene nowadays, Miss von Hertenberg," Richard asked.

She laughed. "We do - that is, Theresia and me, mostly. She has her way of dealing with the figurines that would please my father - she handles them carefully, and even talks to them."

"Talks to them?"

"Oh yes - "How did you manage to tangle your dress like that, Mary?" - that sort of thing."

Richard laughed. There was a picture to cheer him up.

Theresia was at the piano, when the gentlemen joined them again, and was busy playing some of Marie's favourite songs.
Since her conversation with Captain Tilney she had been wondering...he had looked like a small boy whose mother had caught him stealing sugar. There was something behind such behaviour, and she would find out anyway.

So, it came in quite useful that Captain Tilney joined her at the piano, looking at the sheets of music, and obviously wanting to say something.
With a playful smile, Theresia started to play the intro to one of Papageno's songs, saying, in a low voice, "This quite fits your situation, does it not?"

"Does it?" Captain Tilney asked. "In what way?"

"Oh, or should I play another song then?" She started with the intro to the duet Papageno and Papagena sang at the end of "The Magic Flute", when they had finally found each other.

"I did not know that things between you and my friend Leonie were so settled already," she added, with a grin.

Captain Tilney went pale. "Who told you..." he began.

"You did, just now. I had a suspicion, and you have just confirmed it. Congratulations, sir."

Captain Tilney looked around as if to make sure that there was no one near them, and said, in a whisper, "Miss von Laudeck, please, do not speak to your friend about it yet - she wanted to keep it secret until her uncle has given his consent. She would never believe me if I said that you found out all by yourself ..."

Theresia laughed. "What do I get for my silence, sir," she asked, teasingly.

"Please, Miss von Laudeck, I entreat you, my happiness depends on it..." he said, imploringly.

Theresia looked at him pityingly, and said, with a smile, "If it means so much to you, sir, I shall try to keep silent - by the way, you should not always take me so seriously. Nobody does."

Captain Tilney thanked her warmly, and then he walked on to seat himself with his father and Amalia. Theresia watched him go and shook her head. He was quite nice, actually, as long as a girl did not expect too much from him.

Then she noticed Carl, who was watching her intently and seemed to disapprove of something. Theresia gave an inward sigh. He was not again thinking that she gave Captain Tilney too much attention, was he?

To distract her thoughts, she began to play again - things were getting VERY difficult to handle just now, and she did not want to spoil her evening with pondering too much.

The next day brought an invitation from Countess Kinsky. She invited her friends, the von Hertenbergs, to the annual New Years Ball at Palais Kinsky.

"Her friends," Marie said, in amazement. "She only just made our acquaintance. Are we going to go there?"

"Of course we shall," Amalia snapped. "To refuse such an invitation would be such an insult - you could just as well quit Vienna forever. No one of standing would ever invite you again."

Marie sighed. She did not feel like going to that ball. Count Bāthory was back in town, or so she had heard, and it was most likely that he would be at Palais Kinsky, too. However, if Amalia had accepted that invitation, there was nothing she could do. She had to join her family at Palais Kinsky.

The night before the ball at Palais Kinsky took place, the whole town was woken up by the frantic ringing of the fire bells. Marie ran to the window and noticed the unmistakable shine of a huge fire - and, as usual during the night - no one could tell where exactly the fire was.
Carl and Joseph went out to enquire, and it was a rather anxious half hour, until they returned home and told them that they were not in danger - that they should go back to bed and get some rest.

"Where is the fire," Marie asked them anxiously.

"Palais Rasumowski," Carl answered. "Be glad you have seen it once - you will be able to tell your children that you saw it. They will not see it any more, the whole building is on fire."

"Is there still anyone in the building," Theresia asked anxiously.

Carl shook his head. "I do not know, but I do not think so."

"Please let everyone be safe," Theresia said, making the sign of a cross.

Marie put her arm around her shoulder and said, "I am sure they are, dear. Let us go back to sleep."

Theresia made no resistance when Marie led her out of the room and took her back to bed.
For once, she seemed to have given up her independence.

"Are you sure you are all right, Theresia, or do you want me to stay with you, dear?" Marie asked.

From the window, they could still see the red glow of the fire. Theresia sighed.

"I will be fine, Marie."

"Are you sure? It would not be any trouble, I could sleep on the sofa if you want me to."

Theresia shook her head, wearily. "No, please do not inconvenience yourself. I shall be fine, go back to your own room, you need your sleep."

"If you need anything, you know where you can find me, Theresia."

Theresia nodded, smiling bravely. "I shall, dear, do not worry."

Naturally, the fire at Palais Rasumowski was the main topic of conversation at Palais Kinsky the next evening.
Countess Kinsky greeted her guests warmly, and kept Theresia at her side.

"Miss von Laudeck, you must allow me to introduce my son to you - I told him that I had met you, and he has talked of no other thing ever since."

"It will be an honour, Madam," Theresia replied. She still looked a bit ill, Marie thought - though she had not admitted it, Marie could have sworn that she had not slept all night.

Countess Kinsky called out to a young man who was just talking with a group of young people, asking him to join them. He parted from his friends reluctantly, but his face lightened up when his mother introduced him to Theresia.

"I would have known you anywhere," he exclaimed, "you look so much like your brother - only much prettier, of course, your brother was not much to look at - at least for me he was not, though I know about one or two ladies who thought a bit differently on that matter," he said.

Theresia laughed. "One cannot argue about taste, I suppose, sir."

"A splendid fellow old von Laudeck was, that is certain," the young Count went on. "Say, are you going to do me the honour of dancing with me? Not the first dance, I will have to open the ball with my cousin, Old Horseface Margaret....but what about the second one?"

"I am afraid I have already promised my cousin to dance the second dance with him, sir," Theresia replied with a smile. Marie could tell that she was working hard to suppress her laughter.

"Oh, bad luck....what about the third dance, Miss von Laudeck? Though I am afraid that such a pretty lady as you will already be engaged for every single dance, and there I am, trying to grab an opportunity....I am talking too much, right?"

"Do not worry, sir, you are very entertaining," Theresia said. "I shall be happy to dance the third dance with you - you flatter me too much by supposing that there are so many gentlemen who want to dance with me. To be honest, there are hardly any."

"Oh, good!" he exclaimed, and, after a short pause, he added, "For me, I meant, not for you....I am sorry, I am a bit of a fool tonight, am I not? Until the third dance then, Miss von Laudeck - I am already looking forward to it."

And, with a polite bow to the rest of their party, he went to talk to his friends again.

Amalia went ahead of them to find a place to sit down, and Marie said, "Now, what do you think of your new acquaintance?"

Theresia laughed. "Well, he is quite entertaining."

"This is what Leonie would say."

"And we often share our opinions," Theresia said. "Where is Leonie, by the way?"

"She said that she and her aunt would arrive later," Marie answered. "They have to dine with some old friends of Count Potocki's first."

"Life is hard for the young and rich," Theresia said, grinning. "Thank God I am only young - and not that young either."

They had been sitting there for about five minutes when Count Bāthory joined them, greeting Amalia cordially and then asking Marie for the first dance - though demanding the first dance was a more suitable expression.

Marie wished she might have an excuse - but, on the other hand, if she danced the first dance with Count Bāthory, no one could say anything against her dancing with Colonel Fitzwilliam later on. Not even Amalia could interfere in that case any more.

So Marie just curtseyed and agreed to dance with him, hoping that the first dance would not last too long.

Shortly after that, the English gentlemen joined them, too - and Marie noticed how Colonel Fitzwilliam's expression changed from one moment to the next on his perceiving Count Bāthory. He bowed stiffly, his face not betraying any emotion.
Was it possible that he felt jealous of Count Bāthory? He did not talk to her any more than propriety required, and his behaviour was altogether different from what it had been on Boxing Day.

The music started playing the first dance, and Marie had to follow Count Bāthory to the set. On looking back for a moment, she noticed that Colonel Fitzwilliam was still standing where he had been - watching each of her steps. She gave him a smile, but he showed no reaction. With a sigh, she turned to her dancing partner, as the dancing began.

Somehow Marie managed to dance with Count Bāthory without talking much. Perhaps he did not really want to talk, what he did want, however, was to stare at her with that disagreeable scrutinizing gaze of his.

Marie was glad when the dance was over. Count Bāthory did not show any signs of wanting to part with her, though. Instead, he led her to a secluded spot, and said, "Miss von Hertenberg, I need to have a word with you."

"This is neither the right place nor the right moment for doing so, sir," Marie said disapprovingly.
Count Bāthory laughed. "Miss von Hertenberg, your sense of propriety does you credit, but it is not at all necessary. We need not fear anyone's censure."

"Sir, I would rather go back to my family now."

"Oh, I will take you there in a minute - after you have answered my question, that is."

Marie gave an inward sigh. Had he still not given up his intentions regarding her?

"Miss von Hertenberg, all I want you to do is to decide when we are to marry. I, myself, am in favour of a wedding in early May."

At first, Marie thought she had misunderstood something. This could not be a proposal of marriage - he was acting as if they were already engaged.

"I beg your pardon, sir, have I understood you correctly," she said, angrily.

"I think you have, Marie, there is not much to misunderstand there," he replied, with a cold smile.

"And who says that I am going to marry you, sir? Besides, I would like to ask you not to address me with my first name."

"Miss von Hertenberg, everything would be much easier if you decided to cooperate. The wedding is to take place anyway, so why not let it take place on a day of your choice?"

"What about the thirty-first of February, then," she hissed angrily. "A perfect day for a wedding, is it not?"

"I am in earnest, Miss von Hertenberg, so do not make me angry," he said, still smiling.

"So am I, and I am angry. You are the most arrogant, most disagreeable man I have ever met - and I would not even dream of marrying you. No one can make me do so!"

"You should consider yourself lucky," he said, irritably. "There are enough women in town who would thank their Creator for such a chance - and you think you can refuse me just like that? You are not that pretty, I have seen more beautiful women, and richer ones, too."

"Good! Marry one of them, then, and leave me alone, Count Bāthory. I never asked for the honour of being your wife, and never will. I do not know if I shall ever marry, or when that will happen, but I know one thing for certain. Whoever the bridegroom at my wedding will be, it will not be you." Marie said, pushed him aside and ran away from him.

Count Bāthory made no attempt to follow her, he only called out, "The last word is not yet spoken, Miss von Hertenberg!"

Oh yes, it is, Marie thought, as she rushed out of the door, trying desperately to hold back her angry tears.

He had seen how unwillingly she had followed Bāthory to the dance, and had wished he could do something for her.
After a while, he had regained his composure and decided to join his friends again. His long absence might have caused some suspicion already.
Just as he wanted to re-enter the room, the door burst open and out came Marie - running right into his arms.

Instinctively, he got hold of her, and talked to her. She looked up to him, only just now recognising him, it seemed, and Richard looked into her eyes. They were brimming with tears - something had happened, and he did not need to ask whose fault it had been.

"Miss von Hertenberg," he said, soothingly, "what has happened? Tell me, can I be of any assistance?"

She just shook her head. "I am not sad, Colonel Fitzwilliam...just angry, so angry..."

"Has Count Bāthory anything to do with it," he asked, before he could stop himself.

She nodded.

"Did he do anything to you," Richard asked, ready to knock Bāthory's teeth out if he had.

Marie shook her head. "No, he did not - he was just very patronising, that is all. I already told him what I think of him - there is no need for anyone to interfere."

Richard handed her his handkerchief, and she dried her tears. "I am sorry if I worried you, Colonel - and I am sorry for nearly knocking you over."

Richard laughed. "There is no need to apologise," he said. "Though, now that I come to think of it, would you mind dancing the next waltz with me?"

"If you do not mind keeping a lookout for promising obstacles again," Marie answered with a tearful smile, "I could think of nothing better at the moment."

Richard offered her his arm, and they walked back into the ballroom. He noticed the furious look Bāthory gave him and Marie, but he did not mind. His mind was made up - he would not let this happen. This marriage would not take place, if there was anything he could do about it. But he needed to think, he needed to find a way to prevent it.

For the moment, he was just happy to hold Marie in his arms again, and to dance with her - he would just enjoy this evening as long as possible, and would make plans tomorrow. This evening belonged to Marie, and Richard knew that this was an evening he would remember for the rest of his life.

When the dance was over, he led Marie back to her seat, and von Hertenberg welcomed them with a glass of Champagne for each of them.

Everyone watched the clock as it finally struck twelve - and the bell of St Stephen's could be heard greeting the New Year.

Von Hertenberg raised his glass. "Here's to the New Year," he said, smiling. "May all our plans work out the way we want them to - and may it be a happy year for all of us."

"Hear, hear," Richard answered, and drained his glass. Indeed - this was everything he wished for at the moment.

Continued in the next section