"I'm not particularly gifted with cards."
"I think you will surpass our dear Mr. Damas, as much as I like fleecing him."
Estelle felt the eyes of the count and the other man, Marquis Zichy, on her as they waited. She was holding their game up. "Of course," she said and rose from her chair.
The cards were dealt and Estelle picked hers up. It looked like they were playing some variant of whist.
"And where were you before you came here?" the countess asked.
"I was employed with a family in Dartmoor."
"I don't know this place."
"It is a national park. Quite desolate, in a way."
"Then you should be used to the solitude," the countess said, her eyes looking teasingly at Drezasse. "It seems you found the perfect governess."
The countess' gaze returned to Estelle, as if surveying her. "And without family too, I understand."
Apparently they had been talking about her and Estelle didn’t relish knowing that. Why would this woman be interested in asking about her? Perhaps she was just one of those people who liked to pry. "Yes, sadly," Estelle said.
Again, she had the feeling that she didn't know what was going on, as if there was a conversation she was not privy to.
She had been quite excited about the idea of company, but now that it was here, she was no longer so enthusiastic. It could be the same for the count, which resulted in him being sullen and withdrawn at times. He only seemed to speak when someone directly asked him a question. Granted, his social skills appeared a bit underdeveloped. Perhaps she needed to work with Thomas on that front, ensure he was not as hampered as his father. The professor was the only person they could visit. From that respect, it was good that the countess and her followers were there. Thomas benefited from it, even if he didn't really enjoy it. But then etiquette rarely warmed any child's heart.
Estelle still couldn't shake the feeling that the countess was interested in her. Invariably, she would look up and notice the countess watching her again.
"Are you well-traveled?" the countess asked.
"I have had little chance to," Estelle said and the countess tilted her head.
"Shame. Travel does so expand the mind." She turned her attention to the count. "The count here is a bit of an intrepid traveler. I've heard mention of Greece, Jerusalem and Egypt, I think."
"That was some time ago," the count said without looking up from his cards. A cheroot sat on a tray next to him, wisps of smoke curling up into the air.
"I adore Italy," the countess continued. "We have a palazzo down the coast where we winter. The winters here are too harsh. You really must leave your little hollow here every once in a while. You have become too withdrawn. It can't be good to be holed up here with merely a boy and his governess. Don't you agree Damas? With the winter, you should join us down on the coast. The days are clement and there is all the society one should wish for."
A fission of something ran through Estelle, perhaps dread to think she and Thomas would be left here on their own over the winter. While the count was hardly friendly, she would feel absolutely detached and adrift without him here, and all those hungry wolves roaming outside the castle walls.
"Society is what I wish to avoid," he said, his voice deep and quiet.
"Nonsense. We've missed you dearly this last season. Take care or this isolation will turn you into a hermit. Promise me you will not spend the winter here."
"It aggrieves me to disappoint you."
The countess turned cold eyes on Estelle, as if it was her fault. In shock, Estelle placed her card, which might not have been the best choice. In fact, so poor there was little purpose in her playing. The game finished quickly after that, the countess winning with delight.
"I might retire," Estelle said, still in some ways feeling unwelcome and awkward. With an exhale, she walked away from the table and out of the parlor.
*
Estelle ate lunch early the following day to avoid company. That evening, she would be enjoying the entertainment again, and she had found she didn't enjoy it so terribly much. It wasn't her place to challenge the duties expected of her and if they wanted her to fill their numbers, she would.
It was a fine day and the lessons with Thomas had gone well. He, along with the men, had gone hunting. This morning she had learned that not only did the forests around here have wolves, they also had bears and giant wild boars. This place seemed to become more precarious by the day. The professor had declined and had returned to his studies for the day.
Estelle chose to get some fresh air and walk in the garden. She didn't quite dare leave the castle on her own. Perhaps if she rode it wouldn't be so bad, because she would have the means of traveling fast, but on her own, she would feel much too vulnerable.
The air across the valley was clear today, but it was cold. In the distance, the harvest remains in a field were being burned and smoke rose to be carried away by the wind. The wind was coming from the other direction so there wasn't even a hint of the smoke in the air.
"The air is undoubtedly fresh here," Estelle heard and saw the countess approach, walking between the overgrown plants with a look of contempt on her face. "Drezasse has been remiss in caring for this garden."
"He is not botanically inclined," Estelle said.
"It think it is more that it reminds him of Ekatarina. This was her garden, after all, and now it is ruined." The countess looked around the plants. "It really needs to be cleared away, don't you think?"
"I believe the count wishes to keep it like this."
"He does have morbid tendencies." The countess turned her beautiful face back to Estelle. "You wish to make this garden yours?"
The directness of the question surprised her, as well as the assumption behind it. "Not mine, of course, but I have offered to prune the growth." The woman's eyebrow rose sharply.
"Be careful, my dear," the countess said, but not perhaps with any true affection. "The count has been known to toy with girls, in some cases leaving them destitute. He has a hard heart and you should not expect him to be swayed by pity or sentimentality."
"I don't—"
"I'm sure you don't. I am simply saying you should be wary of making any bets. The count has little qualms over ruining stupid girls."
This conversation was well out of Estelle's frame of reference and she had no idea how to respond. "I can assure you there is nothing untoward in my relationship with my employer."
"I have seen the way you look at him. You are not gifted at hiding where your thoughts are." With a pointed look, the countess turned, giving Estelle her back as she regally walked away.
Estelle wanted to argue, assure the woman there was nothing like that between them, but she also knew the lady would not believe her. She had just been warned off from whatever the countess had inferred from the situation, or non-existent glances. Even the idea of it was preposterous. To imagine tenderness between her and the count, or even intimacy. Turning her face away from the retreating countess and to the view, Estelle blushed.
The countess' words reverberated through her head. If the woman could be believed, the count had used and ruined girls seeking his affection. That was utterly despicable, but then if he made his wife miserable to the point where she would take her own life, perhaps that wasn’t surprising. The angelic face of her employer hid a much darker character, it seemed.
Chapter 14:
* * *
Thomas flung the lure into the river, hopeful that something would bite. Mr. Damas stood not far away, waiting for a trout underneath the water to seek a meal.
It was an unseasonably warm day, so Thomas had proposed an outing to the river, and a chance to fish had proved appealing to some of the men. They'd taken the carriage down. Estelle was unfolding the picnic blanket and laid out the food that the cook had prepared for them.
Apparently, the sunny days were not unheard of in winter, but this one had come in autumn, and she was appreciative. It felt as if it had been a
long time since she'd left the castle. The sun beat on her back and it was delightful, along with the rushing sound of the river. The riverbed was rocky and made for turbulent waters. The entire landscape along the river was rugged and beautiful, but the water did look ice cold, not that she'd care to test it.
The professor had also joined them and was now walking further away with Mr. Damas to see if they could find that magical spot where the trout were.
"Have you enjoyed the last few days?" Estelle asked Thomas, who stood not far away with his back to her and his line in the water.
"It's been alright, I suppose," he said.
"It's a shame there were no children in the party."
"They would have gotten lost in the castle. There's a lot of places to get lost. We might never have found them again."
She couldn't rightly say that she was sorry to see their guests go, because she didn't actually like the countess, and the feeling was apparently mutual. To be fair, the woman did make the castle more lively, even with her strange accusations and relentless observation.
They were leaving the following day. "Do you think your father would consider taking the countess up on her offer and join her in Italy?"
"He would have said so if he wanted to. I don't think he does—at least not with her. The countess wants to marry my father."
Estelle's eyebrows rose. Was the woman in love with the count? Was that why she had more or less accused Estelle of having an affair with her employer. It was ridiculous. They barely knew each other. "And you don't think your father's interested?"
Thomas shrugged. "When I go to school, he's going to be all alone. She is pretty."
"Yes, she is," Estelle conceded. "They seem to have known each other long, considering the count invited her to visit."
"He doesn't normally like visitors."
It was apparent he wasn't reveling in having house guests. At times, he looked exasperated by their company. She couldn't really figure him out. He was away much of the time, which she guessed was understandable considering the castle was so remote, but then he resented company when it came to him.
It was hard to imagine the man staying here all on his own—just him, Balog and the staff. There was the professor, of course, but as much as he was included, the count didn't show any particular affection for him. He was just a peculiar man.
Shouts interrupted her and she turned to see Mr. Damas pulling a sizable fish from the water.
"I think we have our dinner for the evening," she said. Thomas looked jealous. He turned back again to focus on his own fishing.
"Do you think my father should marry so he isn't alone when I leave?"
"If there is someone he cares about." She could imagine the count and the countess as a couple. They would make a handsome one. Although she could also imagine herself being readily dismissed if that happened, as she seemed to offend the countess in some way.
"I don't think he likes the countess the way she likes him."
Thomas did know his father better than anyone. She had no basis to judge the statement by.
"Although I would hate to have her as a stepmother."
"If you father marries, you will likely have a brother or a sister."
"Babies. What use are babies?" The age difference would be quite large.
"It is always good to have family." The loss of her own still stung. Family was important. The only thing that mattered, really. One doesn’t really understand that until one has none.
*
The countess crooned when the trout was presented on a silver tray, to be placed at the center of all the diners. Mr. Damas looked very proud of himself.
"There are lots of fish in the river," Thomas pointed out, obviously not feeling that Damas was all that clever. "The bears eat them in the spring. We can fish all winter because the river never freezes."
"A plentiful river," the professor pointed out.
The fish was portioned out and it was delicious. Other delicacies covered the table. Again, the cook must have worked very hard. They would have food left over for days, which was perhaps well as the cook deserved a rest.
Estelle wasn't looking forward to another evening of playing cards. She'd much rather be in her room, but couldn't dismiss herself.
The countess spoke adamantly to Count Drezasse, who was sitting at the end of the table, quiet and reserved as he seemed naturally to be. He looked relaxed, but bored as the woman's voice had become high and almost coquettish, speaking in rapid Hungarian.
The count picked up his wine and looked at his guests, then grumbled a short response.
"The countess wants my father to come to Budapest in the spring. She feels his spirit is low, having only a young boy to talk to."
The fact that the countess was completely ignoring Estelle's presence hadn't gone unnoticed. To some she was just a stupid foreigner—someone whose presence one tolerated rather than conversed with. Perhaps that was true, because the count hadn't exactly spoken to her much, either.
The professor said something that Estelle assumed was something along the lines of how pleased he was to be invited, but it wasn't the professor the woman was interested in. She was eager for a commitment from the count and he didn't seem to want to give her one.
Even though she understood not a word of what was being said, she easily got the gist of the conversation, or perhaps she was imagining that.
She fully expected the countess to ignore her presence in the salon, as well. It was a curious tactic, as if ignoring her would make everyone forget she was there. Maybe that worked. If the woman acted as if the governess was uninteresting, the governess would be uninteresting. It was rude, but even the most gentle born had a propensity for being rude, Estelle had learned. It didn't matter. It wasn’t the first time someone had made hay at her expense. It was unfortunately part of being a governess, stuck in a position where under the power of the people around. Often, they painted her to be whatever they wanted. Although as a vixen tempting the employer was new. It was not an accusation she'd had before.
*
The fine weather had retreated and it was cold and gray as they walked out the main doors in the morning. The visitors' carriages were lined up, awaiting their conveyees.
The countess emerged, walking down the staircase in her traveling gown. Her hair was dressed and her skin looked rosy and dewy in the morning light.
Taking the count's hand, she spoke fondly and also slightly chidingly at him. He bowed and kissed her hand. She also spoke to Thomas with affection, which she hadn't really done before, then throwing a quick and unfriendly glance at Estelle before boarding her carriage. Her entourage followed and the last of the guests' trunks were loaded in the backs.
They set off and the noise grew loud, bouncing off the castle's inner courtyard walls before it settled down as the party made their way over the bridge to the road.
"I think the madam has taken a dislike to you," the count said, turning to her.
Was that a criticism? Had she done something wrong? "I barely spoke to her," Estelle said.
"I think it was more your presence."
"I am sorry if I upset your guests."
"Some guests are due a bit of upset. Particularly someone like the countess, who gets upset when things are not the way she wants them," he said with a snort and returned into the castle. Was he referring to Estelle or the woman's marital interests?
"Perhaps in the future, I should stay clear when guests come."
"Why?" he said, turning around in the doorway. "We cannot help that your presence proves challenging to Countess Vaczy. Such things cannot and should not be removed. It is in challenge that we show our true selves, is it not, Miss Winstone?"
"I… " she started but didn't really know how to answer. She wasn't sure that was true.
He was staring at her as if expecting her to finish.
"I think it is the choices we make that show our true selves."
Her answer looked as if it intrigued him. "
What choice do you think Countess Vaczy is making?"
"I think she is perhaps angry she can't make choices for other people." Estelle was never normally this forward, but he had asked.
"We can only choose for ourselves, then bear the consequences," he said darkly as if something in the conversation had turned distasteful.
Chapter 15:
* * *
After the visitors departed, the castle returned to silence. The count was rarely seen and Estelle ate most meals with only Thomas. He did his lessons dutifully each day, some of which they spent in the library.
In the afternoons, she would take a walk in the overgrown rose garden, the plants still pleading for care. It was not her place, though. The count was in perfect right to ignore them, if he wished—as he wished.
It was just a shame to see such beauty fade and go to waste.
The days were ticking by, one after the other, without much change. The weather grew colder and Estelle felt snow in the air. It wouldn't surprise her if at any moment, white flakes started floating down. In a way, she looked forward to it; it signified a change. Other than the weather, nothing else seemed prone to change around her.
Saying that, today there was something different. She heard distant calls across the valley and when she looked out, she could see people moving, walking across the pastures. They looked like ants from up the side of the mountain.
She didn't understand what was going on and watched them for a while as they steadily moved forward across the valley.
Thomas was running across the courtyard outside. He seemed in a hurry as he entered the stables.
"Where are you going?" she asked as she reached the courtyard. "Are you going for a ride?"
"I am helping."
"I saw there were people down in the valley. Has something happened?"
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