“She invited the whole family to your birthday party.”
“Well, let me guess, Karl. The parents declined because of health reasons, Therese and Anne and their beaus accepted, and Louise is going to think it over...and as always, will not come at all. It's just like Papa said, it's not for lack of trying or offering. They even decline to come to a simple party, Louise not being comfortable any longer in meeting a lot of people and anywhere outside her own home except with Christina.”
“Keeps calling our home an art gallery or mausoleum,” Otto concluded, jesting again and excusing himself to take a little more of his medicine.
“It's not all that bad. She has her own little Biedermaier room in Lindenfels. Brought every piece of furniture to Christina's wing!”
“Right here?” Karl's face tensed in surprise.
“Oh yes, it's been years now. We never thought anyone would mind.”
“Why would anyone mind? Christina has forty rooms all to herself! We hardly ever see each other unless there is a particular reason, or a party.”
“Christina has developed into a mother hen, as far as Louise is concerned. Very protective of her. And, I might add, afraid of you hurting her feelings, which might spoil their friendship.”
“Oh yes. I must have made a bad name for myself in Christina's eyes. She had already condemned and censured me for bad behavior.”
“That was before you met the Rombergs?"
“I guess so! Afterwards, she glowed with pride and probably said a prayer or two. Who knows? One will never be able to figure out women.”
“And has she changed her mind about you now? After you met them? Well, at least this constant hide and seek game has come to an end now,” Stephany said, relieved, sighing and kissing Karl on his forehead, before wishing him a pleasant evening.
“Give the Auersbachs our regards,” she said sedately, and returned to Otto's study, where both would spend a quiet afternoon reading until dinner was announced.
Karl sat there for a few more minutes. He knew his shortcomings only too well, but also that he could only gain by the effort of promising himself to work hard on mending his poor attitude towards young ladies in general and be exceptionally well behaved towards a very special one, should fate offer him a chance.
The journey by coach to Melk's famous monastery and the return to Vienna was rather uneventful, except for his usual joy to be able to admire the architectural splendor that always left him with deep reverence for the artisans. The forever-praying monks were also something to ponder, he never really having been able to resolve whether or not they should be envied or pitied. “Envied, I would say!” George replied to Karl's abrupt question. “They know their calling and seem to be quite content doing God's work.”
Karl just shrugged, not answering, certain his goal was quite a different one. A daily given ritual and predictable contentment through prayer, if he had a choice in the matter, but prayers alone? “What good is it for anyone, unless one can aid others along with it the best way one knows how?”
His parents were happy to see him back, telling him, among other little tidbits of news, how excited and busy his sister and her friends were in trying their utmost to make it the party of the year in Vienna.
“By investing that much effort, they may just succeed!” He smiled and asked on impulse, “Is Christina still in Lindenfels?”
“They have buzzed back and forth, just like little bees! She and Louise left this morning again, planning to stay there until Sunday evening. By the way, she asked to tell you that she must talk to you. Quite important, I suppose. At least, that is the impression I got. And here is a note to you,” his father responded.
Karl opened it and began to read.
“Brother, dear! Welcome back. You must try to find another friend for the last sitting session. Maybe Auersbach or Becker, as my stand-in is not pleased with the present arrangement. (Sebastian Hofmann is snobbish and boring, to be completely truthful!)
Love,
Christina
“Who is her stand-in?” Karl inquired casually of his father, far enough away from Stephany, so as she would not hear.
“As if you couldn't guess. Louise Romberg, naturally! They are both the same height and have almost the same proportions. I believe Hofmann was a bit too short to stand in for you. The painter had pointed this out and has promised to make the necessary adjustments. I suppose he is used to that sort of thing. It's good to know, but better see for yourself.”
“To be sure!” Karl answered, whispering, as his mother reentered the room. He was delighted with the prospect of having a chance to see Louise again so soon.
“All these little secrets you two have.” She smiled curiously. “Just wait, when you get to be fifty, I'll get even!”
“I hope you were not talking to me, my dearest Stephany,” Otto mocked, embracing and kissing her.
“Yours was the last great party we gave in Vienna!” she voiced with a proud look on her face.
“And I thought mine was! At half the years, that is.” Karl laughed “But that's what every Reinhardt party is all about. La creme de la creme!” he boasted, gratefully hugging them both with a hearty goodbye.
“Leaving again so soon?”
“My presence is urgently requested, by none other than your daughter,” he said happily
“Be nice to her friends, Karl.”
“I swear!” he assured, holding up his hand in a pledge-like gesture.
He had a bath prepared and had his valet pack two sets of clothes, not remembering what had been left in the Lindenfels' closets, told Heinrich to get the horses and coach ready, and soon was on his way.
∼
In his anxiousness to see Louise, he practiced a few openings like: 'So nice to see you again!' or 'Why don't the ladies share a meal with me?' or if things went really well and she might be willing to talk or take a little stroll, the weather was always a good start to a conversation. And then— well, once they were over that hurdle, it shouldn't be too difficult to think of something to talk about. Pleasant. Refined. Proper. Courteous. Polished. What the hell was he thinking? Christina would become suspicious. “I'm going to be myself,” he decided. “and that is that!”
He found the grounds of the castle bustling with gardening work being done. Flowers were being planted, hedges cut, the fountains cleaned, and pathways repaired. “Spring is in the air once again, and Lindenfels will be so beautiful after this endless winter!” He welcomed the change.
Entering the castle, the same energetic business became evident to him, seeing the windows, doors, and chandeliers being brought to their full gleam as whatever needed to be doctored up was being overhauled. He couldn't help but wonder how much of his sister's influence could be found behind all of this, always being the compulsive organizer, driven by and enjoying all types of activities.
“Some of grandfather's genetic inheritance,” he supposed.
After settling comfortably in his wing and asking his valet for Christina's whereabouts, he started to look for her, convinced that Louise wouldn't be far away. Looking around, he condemned all the endless hallways and staircases, finally spotting her wrapped in her favorite cape, walking very slowly, her head buried in a book. “Looking more and more like other every day,” he thought. Sneaking up on her, he put his hand over her eyes, expecting to hear her squealing as usual and laughingly dealing him some well-deserved punches, always ending with, “Someday, brother!”
“I finally got you, Chri—”
“You have?” the soft voice of Louise responded, as she turned around and burst out in laughter.
Karl reacted instinctively, taking his hands off her eyes and bringing them over to his own face, embarrassed and unable to get out even a few words of apology.
Since nothing happened, except a pounding heartbeat and a nervously mounting tension on his part, she tried to ease his discomfort. “Don't be embarrassed, I know you mistook me for your sister. It happens quite frequently, since
I mostly wear her clothes and for the past few weeks even her hairstyle. The portrait, you know.”
“Can you ever forgive me?” he stammered unsteadily, trying to camouflage the tremor in his voice.
“There is nothing to forgive! I think it's very funny and can hardly wait to tell Christina. For years she has been wanting to get even with you for your sneak attacks. Now, at last, I believe she finally has her retaliation!” She laughed, showing triumph all over her radiant face that left him mesmerized. She departed, opening her book again, and continued with her reading, walking away as if nothing had ever happened.
∼
“Someone tell me about a woman's mind!” he mumbled, receiving a message from his sister delivered by one of the servants which related that coffee would be served in the downstairs yellow room. It was still quite cold inside the palace and the fireplace had been lit. “This place is like a maze and it's really getting to me. Takes forever to get from one wing to the other! I believe we should number our doors!” he called to his sister.
“Not a bad idea. But what's happened to you? You haven’t even said hello to me yet!”
“Oh yes I have, only it was to the wrong woman,” he stated grimly.
“Louise?”
“Hmph yes! And that is only part of the story.”
He had just told her about the unanticipated encounter, blaming himself for it fully, when Louise knocked and entered to join them for coffee.
“Here we are again!” she said, still jubilant about his mistake.
“Indeed, we are.” He smiled, pulling out a chair for her, not knowing where to look, which had all of them suddenly breaking out in loud laughter.
“We have finally evened the score, Karl!”
“No, we have not! You ladies have the advantage on me now. And I don't intend to keep this account unbalanced for long. More sugar, Miss Romberg?”
“No, thank you. I’m sweet enough!”
“I fully agree with that!” he thought to himself, offering Christina the bowl of sugar. “I'm still surprised that you didn't scream or slap me, Miss Romberg,” he ventured, more as a question than a statement.
“My two brothers, who have been full of mischief throughout all of their lives, have made me somewhat immune to these kinds of attacks. Christina can vouch for that, can't you, Christina? We both had to sometimes put up with paper bags full of bugs, frogs, and worse, which they had placed under our beds. Just a few of the pranks they've played on us.”
“Well, we didn't let them get away with much. Took apart their pipes and strung up the pieces underneath the table. Or tied up their shoelaces, so they had to untie them before being able to wear the shoes. I believe by and by we broke even with them!” Christina recalled, still laughing with satisfaction.
“My whole family was always backing us up, lying for us when it was our turn to play a good joke on them.” Louise remembered those happy times fondly.
All had become very relaxed with each other and were in good spirits, having passed the first few awkward moments. Christina was especially relieved to see her brother so happy and at ease with Louise, without being his usual arrogant self, which she had become accustomed to through the years. She had been a little apprehensive and was now happy that he did not seem to present any problems to her friendship with Louise. Karl was quiet, reflecting on all the enjoyable times he had probably missed out on after all. Those little things that could not be bought with all the money in the world must have been precious, because of all the memories they held for them, like frogs, mice, or bugs in paper bags. And never had there been anything small about his family’s endeavors. “It would either be on a grand scale or not at all!” he thought, a little disappointed with his past life.
Even his mother's flowers. No matter how small, they had to be grown in her own little ‘garden of Eden.’ “My wife's own creation!” Otto would boast. Their own palace, along with a few mansions and famous monuments, had been created by his great-grandfather. Public buildings and his own castle, were conceptualized and built with pride and great joy by grandfather. Museums, a few churches, bank buildings, and manor houses were his father’s specialty, and his own talents were going in the same direction. Always beautiful, long-lasting, and impressive. This is how it had always been for the Reinhardts. Except for their weddings. They were known to always be held on the smallest scale in all of Vienna.
“Aunt Bertha and Grandfather were our witnesses and the servants our guests. After all, a marriage is a private affair and of concern only to the two people in love,” his father had told them long ago. “As for the servants, I am always being asked, why only them? And I can only answer that since one depends on them for the larger part of one's life and well-being, why not include them in your wedding? With relatives it's mostly the opposite. They're usually relying on you! But then again, there are these certain exceptions to the rule.”
“What are you daydreaming about, Karl?” Christina said, interrupting his thoughts. “Would you like to see the painting?”
“Yes, I would. Father has already told me of his doubts about Hofmann's size and shape.”
“That's one of my least worries. His ineptitude is more his difficulty. Isn't it, Louise?”
“His constant bragging to the point of absurdity would be my complaint,” Louise answered.
“Poor, poor ladies! I'll get George Auersbach. He is my only friend you like!”
“He is rather unassuming. I know that much about him. But you know what our real problem is, Karl?”
“Only if you tell me!
“Neither one of us ever liked each other’s friends.”
“I agree, it's been that way in the past it seems.”
“Your brother has been very nice to me,” Louise said, defending him. “He has, in fact, been a perfect gentleman!”
“Give him time!” giggled Christina, putting her arm around her brother's waist.
“Good idea, sister. Give me time.”
He loved the background of the painting, which depicted their parents’ own huge portrait, giving the impression of four Reinhardts on one oversized canvas. And Christina's green-golden shimmering gown with the elegant high neckline was a perfect choice and very beautifully conforming to his own attire of a night-blue silk suit. He noticed the gracefully folded hands and took a fast look at his sister's. “Well, maybe her second-best feature, aside from her beautiful eyes!” he thought, and was satisfied, not detecting any distortions.
“Well, Karl?”
“It's so much better than I had imagined!”
“I told you the painter is a genius and well worth his fee!”
“What do you think, Miss Romberg?”
“Oh, me? I feel honored to have been asked to contribute a little. It is, after all, going to be hanging in your parent's palace!” she said, smiling fondly.
Karl was finally able to take advantage of his well-rehearsed invitation. “Why don't you ladies share dinner with me?” He was not too surprised but still quite happy over their cheerful acceptance. But then, what else would they be doing anyhow? There really was not much to do in Lindenfels, and both having a full day's work behind them. What really surprised him, though, was that both girls arrived in carefully selected gowns. Or was it simply that he had previously never noticed and taken it for granted, considering the etiquette the Reinhardt household adhered to. His parents always dressed impeccably well. He had never known them to do any different, but his sister? She who was always being reprimanded for her improper dressing. Or had these reprimands taken place a long time ago?
Louise, looking the perfect copy of an exquisite and flawless Dresden porcelain doll, surpassed his sister's looks in many ways. Although he never thought of himself as being overly handsome, he was aware that, for him to fall in love, he had to observe beauty with his eyes as well as experience it within his soul. “Take your time, son,” his father had told him, which was no longer a point of necessity. He knew now that he was deeply in love a
nd had finally discovered the difference between infatuation and the desire to share and devote one's life until the end of all days, or as his father would and had always instilled in him, 'Till death do us part!' Now he felt only an enormous yearning to have his love returned. “Mother and I are always of one mind and body!” was another of his father's phrases. And as the days wore on, Karl envisioned problems that he might encounter. He weighed against his own, all the virtues of Baron Rudolf von Altmann and concluded that he would not be an easy man to follow. Handsome, cultured, modest, well-read, charming, and a title that might have impressed Louise in the first place, knowing that money never had been of any consequence to any of the Rombergs. Baroness Louise von Altmann sounded infinitely more impressive then did Mrs. Reinhardt. Or did it?”
“Take your time, son!”
“So far so good, Papa,” he thought. “Now I shall have my chance to use my mind to the fullest in order to prove to her that I am exactly what she wants in a man. Now that I know that I have had a physical attraction to her from the first hour I really noticed her, it will become my foremost task to convince her of my qualities. But then, I've nothing to lose...except everything I've ever dreamed of!”
“You are staring at father's picture as if you were talking to him, Karl. I hope you are not sorry we chose this painting for a background.”
“Heavens no, Christina! Whatever gave you that impression?”
“You were looking at it for so long!”
“Well, looks might be deceiving,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“I can certainly attest to that!” Louise emphasized, with a tinge of sarcasm, quickly putting her index finger in front of her mouth. “Sorry!”
“Poor thing speaks from experience!” Christina defended her.
“Time is a great healer, Miss Romberg.”
“Thanks to your angelic sister, I am almost cured!”
Tears filled Christina's eyes as she glanced at Karl, who in turn gave her a grateful wink. “Women seem to be born with the gift to get over these things easier than men do. Maybe it's because they are able to talk about them. I've known fellows who've been eaten up by grief, nevertheless, they refuse to discuss any part of their problems.” He felt momentarily ever more indebted to his sister and hoped to be able to repay her someday, in addition to the promise he had given his grandfather as a boy, that whatever happened or wherever he'd be, he would be there for Christina.
Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part One Page 8
