“Baroness Csilla! What a joy to see you!” a matronly lady called out in greeting. She excitedly waved us over.
As we joined her, Csilla greeted her with a cool little smile. “Borbála, how lovely to see you. ”
Borbála returned a cold smile of her own. I wondered if it was this same woman with whom the baroness had quarreled. “Pardon me, but have we met?”
“I am Countess Dracula. ”
“Oh, my! Of course! It has been so long since I saw you when you were visiting with your parents. I believe I last saw you and your family at a picnic. ” There was a slightly predatory gleam in her eye as she swept her eyes over my face. “Oh, wait. No. It was the lovely opera at the Dosza Palace where I last saw you with your husband and your charming brother. ”
It was difficult, but I did not allow myself to be disquieted by her words.
“But you were in mourning then. You wore such a heavy veil, I could not even see your face. ”
“Isn’t she lovely?” Csilla gushed. “Now that her mourning is over, it is so grand to see her pretty face once more. ”
“I always thought you were a lovely little thing despite your red hair,” the older woman said, her ruddy complexion a clear indication of her drunken state. I could almost forgive her comment if not for her cruel eyes.
This final remark wore away at my resolve and having been teased my entire life because of my red locks, I bristled under her words. I was about to retort when a voice with a thick English accent responded instead.
“I think red hair is the mark of a beautiful woman. ”
Turning, I saw a tall man with blond hair and brilliant pale blue eyes approaching. Sporting the latest fashion of a long coat, he was a striking figure. Something about his broad shoulders and the set of his chin reminded me of my father and I felt a lump in my throat.
Csilla rewarded him with a sweet smile and squeezed my hand lightly. “Of course it is! It is such a rare color and with her pale skin, it’s so striking. ”
Without another word, Borbála stomped off to join the other gossiping biddies leaving us alone with the Englishman.
“Pardon my interruption,” he said, bowing. “My name is Percy Clarke and I had to come to defense of such a lovely young woman. ”
“I am Baroness Dosza, but you may call me Csilla,” the baroness said, already turning her charms to the handsome man before us.
“I’m delighted,” Percy said, kissing both our hands. His Magyar was good, though thickly accented.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said to him in English. “I am Countess Dracula. ”
His eyes widened with surprise. Quickly recovering, he said, “Countess Dracula, I take it you are English born?”
“I am. I was born Lady Glynis Wright. I married Count Dracula last year,” I said.
“It is definitely a pleasure to meet you! It has been quite some time since I was last in England. To hear another English voice is refreshing,” Percy answered.
“What is he saying?” Csilla asked me, slightly disconcerted to be excluded from the conversation.
In Magyar, I said, “Percy was just saying it has been some time since he was last on English soil. ”
“I miss England,” Percy admitted, also in Magyar, “but I have a lot of business to attend to here in Buda. I probably will not be traveling back to England for some time. ”
“It has been over two years since we departed England. ” Even I could hear the sadness in my voice as the yearning to see the old manor grew almost unbearable in that moment of confession. I could so clearly remember the dark gray facade of my ancestral home against the backdrop of the lush green of the countryside. The voices of my family flitted through my mind, snippets of conversations floating like wraiths through my memory.
Percy’s pale blue eyes regarded me with curiosity as he shifted on his feet. Nearby, the birds rustled in the trees as the noise from the party stirred them from their slumber.
“I suppose it was your marriage that relocated you to the city of Buda,” Percy ventured.
“My family was traveling across the Continent when the Baroness introduced me to my future husband. After my family was tragically killed, I became Countess Dracula. ” It was the truth, yet it excised so much of the pain and terror my family and I had endured. I immediately felt guilty, as though I had betrayed my family by so easily glossing over their brutal murders. I cast down my gaze, afraid that I may weep if I saw sympathy in his eyes. He reminded me so much of a younger version of my dear departed father.
“I do apologize for bringing up a sensitive subject,” he said swiftly.
“The Countess is a strong, and yet tragic figure. ” Csilla’s smile cast in my direction could be perceived as affectionate, but I translated it as possessive. “She has risen above the tragedy that befell her family to woo not only her husband, but all of us who consider her our friend. ”