“I am most obliged, Sir,” I replied with a smile. We certainly have come a great way in our friendship since our first rather awkward meeting.
“But Lady Warner, why should you put yourself and your servants to all the trouble of hosting a ball in your home mere days before you are to leave the city? Would it not be better to let another handle all the fuss? What would you say to holding your ball here at Schönfeldhaus, hmm?”
There was an audible clink to my left as Rupert set his cup back in its saucer. I glanced at him and found his look of amazement quite amusing. I was equally astounded at the suggestion, knowing too well how little the Count liked balls.
“You are too kind, but we would surely be an imposition,” Lady Warner said, also stunned.
The Count waved a hand gruffly. “It is no trouble. You shall take all the trouble for the arrangements and whatnot; I am merely providing a venue. I am making it rather easy on myself, for I shan’t have to even step outside my own door to attend. Consider it as my way of making amends,” he added, looking at me, “for my ungracious behavior in Paris.” His eyes flickered momentarily toward Rupert, a knowing expression crossing his face so briefly that I almost thought I had imagined it.
And so we are to have our ball in one of the grand palace ballrooms! I can scarcely keep still for being so excited! Lady Warner and I are having new gowns made for the ball and are to visit the modiste again tomorrow. I shall write more then with details of my gown once I have seen it.
11 July
I had planned to wait until this evening to write so that I could tell you about the trip Lady Warner and I are to take to the modiste this afternoon, but the arrival of your letter this morning requires more immediate attention. My dear cousin, I am terribly grieved over the news you have sent me. You are quite right in saying that I had not received your letter until the very day on which the Duke proposed to you. To think that I was writing advice while you were in the midst of such a scene! Oh Bella, you are greatly to be pitied. I will not offer an opinion on either your conduct or the Duke’s, for I know that will be quite useless to you at this time. Your needs are all for comfort and support, which you have in full from me.
The story of the Duke seems quite haphazard, but from the little he told you it seems clear that he is ultimately blameless. What a pity my last letter did not arrive in time to prevent this! I do not say this to pass judgement on you, dear Bella, but to lament the sad outcome of the delay required by the post. Have you learned anything further of the Duke’s story since this event? If you have, I have no doubt that you will share it with me in due course. For now do not trouble yourself to think of me; you must know best how you are to be helped in this time. If you do not wish to speak of it to me, pray do not.
I can only imagine what you must be feeling at this time. I am sorry too that much of my most recent correspondence will only cause you more pain. My happiness is greatly marred by the loss of yours, I assure you. I wish that I had not told Rupert of my suspicions about the Duke’s feelings for you, slight as the reference may have been. The event has proved me quite foolish. You at least may be sure that Rupert will not share my mistaken supposition with anyone else. How I long to be with you, so that you might not feel quite so alone. But perhaps you wish to be alone now; I cannot be sure. Please do write as soon as you may and tell me how I may best be able to help you. I shall send this letter on to Kent so that it will be certain to reach you.
Love,
Eleanor
15 July, 1845
Warnerhaus, 9 Salztorgasse, Vienna
Dear Isabella,
Your letter from last Wednesday came this morning and was most helpful in giving me something to think about other than Rupert and the ball.
The Duke’s story is quite tragic, particularly in light of the recent misunderstanding between you. I feel Uncle Matthew was correct in saying that your refusal of the Duke’s offer was for the best, much as I wish the opposite. In spite of the unfortunate ending to your visit, I hope you do not leave with only regrets. Your presence there has altered things for the better. Mrs. Kirke will receive the attention she deserves, and the villagers will likely continue to welcome the master of the castle among them once more. The Duke’s solitary existence was quite as harmful as the bitterness of the townsfolk, but you have influenced his manners with your example of determined, disinterested kindness.
All of our time continues to be taken up in preparing for both the ball and Lady Warner’s departure for Paris. Though she initially wished to hold the ball in her own home, I think she has become grateful for the Count’s offer to host the event. With all of her travel arrangements to make, as well as the plans for the evening, it has lightened her burden greatly to not also be worrying about the state of her home. My own packing has taken more of my time than I had at first anticipated. There is much music to pack, and I have had to arrange for the shipment of a beautiful cello back to my home in Kent. Did I tell you that I have been studying the cello with Lady W. in my letters before? Suffice it to say that I am much taken with the deep, resonant sound of the instrument. Rupert plays the cello very well, although he does not know that I have also been taking lessons. (The stance one must assume to properly play the instrument is nearly as unladylike as riding astride on a horse, and while I do not think Rupert would think much of it one way or the other, I have not mentioned my lessons to him.)
Our gowns arrive from the modiste on Thursday, but I have seen enough to know that mine is everything I could wish. When I ordered the gown, I decided to take my Venetian glass slippers with me. At the modiste, I carefully removed the protective blue velvet cloth and showed her the beautiful clear glass set with swirls of silver. The modiste’s assistant stifled a small gasp of wonder.
“Do you think it would be possible to find something to match these slippers?” I asked. Placing a small pair of spectacles on her nose, the modiste lifted one of the shoes with a delicate touch. She examined it from several angles in the light cast by the sun shining through the window. Her examination finished, she returned it to me and went into a room at the back of her shop. In a moment she returned with the loveliest silver brocade I had ever seen. The intricate stitching made the cloth shimmer, as though it had been poured and cast, not woven. The color was an exact match to the swirled silver of the slippers.
I am most anxious to look well for the ball, as I have a suspicion that Rupert is waiting until then to propose. Gretel Müssen has been going about referring to it as a “royal ball,” and what could be more romantic than such a setting? But I am forgetting my audience… I do not wish to wound your feelings with tales of my own happiness. Perhaps I shall simply pretend that I am writing to you and not send this letter. Or I may presume on your goodness and your request that I write to you about any subject, for I cannot easily force my attention from these details for long.
20 July
Oh Bella, you must allow me to beg your forgiveness, but I cannot help writing to you about the wonderful evening I have enjoyed. It was truly magical, and I still feel caught up in the spell of it even now.
The first moment of magic was when my gown arrived from the modiste. She wrote Thursday to say that it would not be delivered until the day of the ball, and I spent an anxious afternoon looking through my other gowns and fretting until it arrived. But the anxiety was well worth experiencing once Martha laid it out for me this evening. It seemed to glow in the candlelight as I dressed. The modiste chose to accent the gown with tiny pearls sewn across the bodice and over the sleeves, rather than use ribbon or other frills. Once again I wore my mother’s pearl set and was overjoyed to see a bouquet of pure white flowers arrive from Rupert. They seemed chosen specifically for their usefulness in my preparations, even though he could not have known it when he chose them. With the slippers, the overall effect was truly stunning.
As the ball was being presented by Lady Warner, she left early to oversee the final preparations. I had offered earlier to go with
her, but she firmly declined, saying she wished for everything to be perfect before I saw it. Lord Warner attended her and sent his coachman back for Papa and me.
Papa was already waiting when I entered the main hall of the house. He turned as the light tap of my slippers sounded on the marble floor. I smiled broadly and turned in a circle. “What do you think, Papa? Shall I be a credit to you this evening?”
“You are as radiant as your mother was at your age, my dear,” he replied as he returned my smile. “She would be proud of the young lady you have become, Ella.”
His use of my mother’s name for me made me feel suddenly tearful. I had not been “Ella” for some time (having reverted to “Eleanor” when Papa married Step-mamma), and I could not help feeling wistful at the thought that this was a night when my mother should have been here with us. Blinking the tears away, I adjusted the drape of my shawl as a distraction from my feelings. “I hope so. Thank you, Papa.”
The sounds of a carriage and the footman opening the door broke through our momentary sadness. Papa smiled again, more lighthearted than before, and stepped forward to offer me his arm. “I think you look just as you should. Tonight is an important evening, you know,” he teased.
“Papa, whatever can you mean?” I said in a similar tone.
“Ah, I am not to say. If you do not know, then I certainly shall not be the one to spoil the surprise.”
The lights of Schönfeldhaus seemed to glow like a thousand lanterns and made the gravel of the drive sparkle with the remaining damp of a late-afternoon rain that had fallen. A carpet had been laid to prevent the damp from soaking through the hems of the ladies’ dresses. Many carriages were pulling up to the broad steps, and the guests descending from them seemed to glitter and shine as well. Everything I looked on appeared touched with a sense of anticipation and excitement.
Papa left the carriage first so that he could hand me out himself. I looked down to ensure that I did not step on my hem and when I looked up, I saw Rupert standing at the top of the steps. He was greeting the guests next to Lord and Lady Warner and his uncle, but it was clear he had placed himself so that he would be able to see everyone as soon as they left the carriages. He glanced toward us and broke into one of the happiest smiles I had ever seen him wear. Excusing himself to those around him, he hurried down the steps to join us. I almost thought he would forget to greet Papa, his gaze seemed so fixed on me, but his manners were as flawless as ever, and he bowed very gracefully.
“Herr Stafford, Eleanor, it is a pleasure to see you both this evening.” Papa returned the compliment and I curtsied, suddenly feeling a little flutter of nervousness. We seemed incapable of taking our eyes from one another; Rupert looked to be restraining a great deal of excited energy.
Papa laughed heartily at us and offered my hand, which he still held, to Rupert. “I give her over to your care for the evening, Rupert. She will enjoy your company far more than mine.” The polite smile Rupert had donned on reaching us grew, and he bowed again to Papa before turning his full attention to me as the three of us climbed the steps. We greeted the Warners and Count von Schönfeld, and then Rupert led the way into the ballroom.
The ballroom ran the full length of the palace, set at the back of the ground floor. The preceding hall being raised, a small set of steps led down into the ballroom. The tall doors lining the opposite wall had been thrown open, and I could see that the magnificent gardens were also lit with lanterns. The gold and blue theme of the drawing room was continued here on an even grander scale. The walls gleamed with gilt, and the polished floor shone under the light of the crystal chandeliers above and the hundreds of candles throughout the room. The gowns of the ladies looked as bright as the jewels they wore, and the dark jackets of the men provided a contrast that made the gowns glow even more. Flower arrangements of the loveliest varieties cast their perfume through the air. Lady Warner had truly outdone herself.
“I have never seen anything so lovely in my whole life!” I felt quite breathless with the wonder of it.
Rupert was not looking at the ballroom when he replied, “I quite agree.” Of course I could not help blushing, but it seemed to be the reaction he had hoped for, because he grinned again. “Come, you must see the gardens before Lady Warner steals you away and makes you open the dancing. Uncle has had the gardeners prepare them particularly for tonight.” I nodded my assent, and we made our way down the steps. Before we could go far, however, Gretel Müssen caught sight of us and fluttered over, her pink gown like the wings of a butterfly. Louisa and her fiancé Lord Schiller followed at a more measured pace.
“Oh Eleanor, is it not beautiful?” Gretel breathed after we had all curtsied and bowed to one another. “Even Lady Gunther’s ballroom cannot compare to it!” She continued in this vein for several minutes, admiring my gown and exclaiming over my slippers. “They cannot truly be made of glass, can they? Would that not be terribly uncomfortable?” I caught sight of Rupert’s expression while I assured Gretel regarding my footwear. His smile was friendly and polite, but that restrained quality had returned to his posture. A brief pause in the conversation came then, and he took the opening at once.
“If you will excuse us, I had intended to show Eleanor the gardens before the dancing begins.”
“Oh! I have not seen them yet either. We shall come with you,” Gretel said happily. I looked away to hide my smile and saw Lady Warner approaching where we stood.
“Perhaps we may view them later. It seems the ball will open soon.” Rupert looked around and caught sight of Lady Warner as well. His shoulders seemed to droop just slightly, but he rallied before anyone else could notice.
“Eleanor my dear, as this is your farewell ball, would you do us the honor of opening the dancing with Lord Warner?” I knew a brief moment of disappointment; I had, of course, hoped to dance with Rupert. But Lord and Lady W. had been so very kind to me that I could not refuse to oblige them. Rupert looked as though he shared in my disappointment, so I smiled at him encouragingly as we followed Lady W. toward the middle of the floor where Lord W. was waiting and said in an undertone, “Perhaps it is for the best. You would not want to waste one of our dances on the opening promenade, would you?”
“I had not intended to waste any of them,” Rupert replied quietly and with an intensity that surprised and thrilled me. “But it appears I shall be forced to do my duty by the other guests for the present. I shall look for you very soon, so do not disappear.” He smiled, and bowed to Lord Warner as he left. Lord Warner smiled as he watched Rupert leave and then gave me a conspiratorial wink as the orchestra began the music. (It seemed that everyone was smiling tonight, so you must forgive me if I use the term often.)
As the first dance ended, I looked about for Rupert as discreetly as I could. I finally spotted him some way down the set and could tell instantly that he was looking for a moment in which to slip away from his previous partner and those around them without being impolite. But before he could manage it, Papa had come and claimed my hand from Lord Warner.
“This may be the only opportunity I have to dance with my daughter tonight, and I should like to do so before she is whirled off by other partners,” he said, also with a wink. Our dance was enjoyable, of course, and I was gratified by the fatherly affection the attention showed. But afterward I found my hand solicited by another of our acquaintance who was much closer to me than Rupert, and so it went until the start of the first waltz. I had been highly amused by Rupert’s steady attempts to place himself and his other partners closer and closer to me in the set. He turned to me with a gleam of triumph in his bright blue eyes as he finally claimed my hand.
“I feel quite like a trout,” he said, whirling me about with an intricate step. “Swimming upstream the whole night in an effort to reach my destination.” I laughed at the image, happy to be dancing with him at last. “And when this dance is over, if you are not otherwise engaged, I really should like to show you the gardens.” His intent look was back again; he did seem r
ather fixated on the gardens for a reason I suspected but decided privately not to consider too closely.
“Indeed, I am quite unengaged after this dance. Should we perhaps ask Gretel if she would like to join us? She seemed most interested in seeing the gardens as well,” I teased him, but though he did smile, his intent look did not fade.
“I would rather not share them with anyone else just at present,” he said seriously. My heart beat at a quickened pace that was not entirely due to the exertion of dancing.
The waltz was over all too soon, but Rupert’s excitement only seemed to increase as the music faded. He took my hand and turned to lead me from the floor just as a woman in a dark purple gown passed behind him. She ran against his shoulder and there was a moment of awkward confusion as Rupert apologized before I realized who it was: Frau Schneider.
“Oh Your Lordship, I did not see you standing there!” she exclaimed in a manner that seemed a trifle rehearsed to my ear. Rupert gallantly took the blame and attempted to excuse us both, but Frau Schneider was not to be put off so easily. “And Miss Stafford, how very pleasant it is to see you this evening. I was most disappointed to hear that you are to leave Vienna so soon. But your family must miss you and of course we cannot presume to hold our own claim over theirs.” I nodded as politely as I could. This was the first time we had seen one another since that horrid tea, and I was wary of such friendly behavior. Frau S. turned back to Rupert. “Baron von Schönfeld, your uncle has truly outdone himself with the preparations tonight. We were so honored to receive the invitation.”
“I believe Lady Warner was responsible for all of the arrangements tonight, ma’am,” Rupert said, his tone cool but still polite. His hand twitched in mine as the musicians began the next dance.
Glass Roses: A Victorian Fairytale Page 23
