After arriving at the villa in Hietzing, Eleanor accepted Henry’s offered arm, and they ascended the steps with Philip and the contessa behind them, followed by Martin and Charlotte.

The butler announced their arrival to the gathering, causing more than one head to turn their way. Henry and Eleanor made quite an impressive couple. Not only were they all dressed according to the most recent fashion, Henry and his sons were as handsome as the women were beautiful. The duchess and her grandmother exuded an air of nobility, which you had to be born into. They radiated wealth and power.

Eleanor contemplated her daughter, the heiress of her title, and was quite satisfied to see that Charlotte had come into her own. She was as regal as her mother and always charming without being too familiar. The future Duchess of Darnsworth was every bit as awe-inspiring as the current one. Eleanor beamed proudly at her daughter, only to see a light blush steal its way to Charlotte’s cheek at her mother’s gaze.

Giulia joined them and patted Eleanor’s hand reassuringly. “Isn’t it lovely to have no worries about her, my dear? Charlotte will be fine. You have taught her well. She resembles her mother, every inch the future Duchess of the Empire.”

“So long as she is not too much the same as her mother,” Eleanor said ruefully.

“Nonsense. Look at her! Charlotte can handle herself. You can be proud of her. She is sophisticated, strong-willed, compassionate, and she knows perfectly well that with wealth comes responsibility. Charlotte is not fickle and self-absorbed like so many of her generation.”

Eleanor knew her nonna was right, but there was more to a happy life than that, and they both knew it. Now was neither the time nor the place to discuss it, though.

Helen came bustling their way to introduce them to her friends and acquaintances. The “happily” betrothed couple were presented first, of course, although Eleanor wasn’t quite convinced about the level of happiness by Emma’s behaviour. Emma’s smile seemed forced, whereas her fiancé showed every sign of being very satisfied with himself.

Count Friedrich von Bernthal was a man with greying dark blond hair, a well-trimmed beard, and a lined face showing his age. His eyes were a dark blue under bushy brows, and Eleanor didn’t appreciate in the least how he leered at Charlotte when he greeted her. By the expression on her daughter’s face, Charlotte was equally repulsed by the man, but tried her best not to let it show.

Eleanor wondered what had caused Count von Hagendorf to choose that man as his daughter’s husband. If his behaviour was any indication of his true character, Emma was to be pitied.

Before they could exchange another word, though, the duchess was swept away by Helen to meet another important guest.

On Saturday afternoon, Sophie returned late from another meeting with Professor Maierhofer. Her attendance at the reception wasn’t necessary at all, which had been made clear by her father. She could understand how he feared she would cause a scene in front of his peers, something he was very keen to avoid at all costs. So, she decided to freshen up and change into comfortable clothes before she went out to the stables to have Capri saddled for a ride to the villa in Hietzing.

When she arrived, she made sure Capri couldn’t run off on her own before she entered the property through a hidden door at the back of the garden. Sidling through the bushes, Sophie heard the music swelling inside, a cheerful happy sound. A small labyrinth led to the fringe of the garden right behind the villa where a fountain in the middle of a gravel path was the last barrier that separated the garden from the terrace.

The light from the many lamps illuminated part of the terrace. She went to a stone bench and sat in the shadows, merely observing as her family, their relatives, and the guests enjoyed the music. She caught sight of her sister on the arm of her fiancé, smiling and appearing nauseatingly happy. Sophie also searched for the duchess but after a while, she concluded that she hadn’t arrived yet.

With a critical eye she watched Emma’s future husband as he undressed every beautiful woman in the room with his eyes. He was worse than a pig. She could not fathom why her sister would have him.

The butler announced the arrival of the Duchess of Darnsworth and her husband, Lord Henry Edgewood. She glanced at the entrance and there she was. The woman she had treated so badly swept into the room on her husband’s arm, and Sophie was captivated. The duchess was breath-taking. The colour of the gown accentuated her eyes, and the white of her hair made her complexion appear ethereal in the light.

Sophie shook her head to break the spell, cursing herself for being so easily impressed. But the woman was beautiful; there was no other way to describe her.

She watched the whole family, and she had to admit that the duchess and her husband made quite a dashing couple. The children had inherited their parents’ good looks as well as their bearing. They didn’t seem insecure. On the contrary, they knew exactly who and what they were, and it showed in the way they carried themselves.

Sophie knew the duchess was not only regal but also amiable and at heart a kind person, and she hoped there would be a chance to apologise.

 

Eleanor felt as if she were suffocating. The hall was unnaturally hot, and the air was thick. The endless stream of mindless chatter was painfully dull. Her conversation with Count von Bernthal had been exhausting. He was the worst example of the male sex she could think of. At first glance he seemed charming, but the more Eleanor had to listen to him, the more his prejudices were confirmed. Could this get any worse? She hoped not.

When it was no longer discourteous for her to excuse herself from his company, she made sure one of Charlotte’s brothers stayed at her daughter’s side through the evening because she wouldn’t put it past the man to try something impertinent. Now she needed to get away. Some fresh air would do her good after such an unpleasant conversation.

Without anybody noticing, she slipped through the French windows at the back of the room. Carefully, she closed the doors behind her before proceeding slowly towards the edge of the terrace and inhaling the cool air of the cloudless early summer night.

With her eyes closed and hands resting on top of a railing around the terrace, she enjoyed the light breeze that carried the scent of the cherry tree blossoms from the garden. She felt the breeze cooling her flushed face and was more than glad to have escaped the inane conversations. She descended the stairs and strolled towards the fountain, away from the chatter and the music to relaxed in the tranquillity of the garden.

A feminine voice startled her from her reverie.

“You should step out of the light if you don’t want to be bothered.”

With a hand over her racing heart, Eleanor pivoted towards the voice but could only make out a shadow at the end of the path, sitting on a bench in front of what seemed like a hedgerow.

“That would be pointless now, wouldn’t it,” she replied curtly.

“You are absolutely right, of course. I shall leave.” The owner of the voice struggled to her feet and stepped into the light

“You! Of all the people in the world . . .” Eleanor felt her face flush hot with anger before she turned on her heel to storm off.

“Wait, please! Please!”

Eleanor paused. The limping miscreant who’d recently been so rude to her covered the distance between them as fast as she could. She lightly placed her hand on Eleanor’s upper arm to stop her from leaving.

The warm hand upon her cool skin caused a shiver to run down her spine. Eleanor inhaled sharply at such audaciousness. She whirled around and glared silently at this presumptuous lout.

The other woman appeared to cringe under her scrutiny, but she didn’t release her.

“Sophie von Hagendorf, your Grace.” She let go of Eleanor’s arm and stood leaning on her cane.

“Usually I would say the pleasure is all mine, but I’m not so sure about that.”

“And why is that, if I may ask?”

“Oh, I don’t know, perhaps because the last time we met, I was merely trying to be helpful, and you showed your gratitude by covering me in mud.”

“Really? Nobody asked you to help. And by the way, was it mere politeness when you were all cosy and nice with that detestable Bernthal? If that is your understanding of nice, I can do without it, thank you very much.”

Eleanor couldn’t believe her ears. This was outrageous. She felt her hackles rise at these ridiculous accusations. Who did this woman think she was, speaking in such a manner? How dared she?

“Not that it is any of your business, but the count at least has a concept of the rules which apply to a gathering such as this, contrary to your be-haviour. How dare you talk to me in such a manner? I am not an ordinary commoner. Good evening!”

Fuming, she gathered the skirts of her dress and stormed off in the opposite direction.

Sophie watched her leave, her eyes glued to the duchess’ retreating figure, until she closed the doors behind her. She staggered back to the bench and sank down. Her intentions had started out to be honourable. All she wanted to do was apologise for her awful behaviour the other day, but somehow all she had accomplished was to aggravate the woman further.

What a brilliant outcome, she thought sarcastically.

 

The contessa caught a glimpse of her granddaughter as she slipped through the doors that led into the garden and frowned when she saw the thunderous look in Eleanor’s eyes. She silently wondered what could have caused such a change in her mood. Excusing herself, Giulia stepped to her side and put a calming hand on her granddaughter’s arm. She could feel Eleanor shake with anger, her eyes blazing and her nostrils flaring.

“Why don’t we find a quiet place,” Giulia suggested gently, “and you can tell me what has you so agitated?”

“I have already tried that,” Eleanor stated as calmly as possible, now keeping her anger in check. “There is no such thing anywhere here.”

“We’ll see.” Giulia put her arm under Eleanor’s and guided her unobtrusively through the crowd in search of an unoccupied room in the villa. They finally found a small library at the end of the corridor. The contessa closed the door behind them and gestured at two chairs. Both took a seat, relieved at the quiet and solitude.

“Well?”

Eleanor closed her eyes in defeat, knowing her grandmother wouldn’t let go before she told her about the confrontation in the garden.

“I just had a most unpleasant argument with Sophie von Hagendorf.”

“How so?”

“She is the rider who covered me in dirt.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, indeed,” Eleanor huffed in indignation. “I went outside for fresh air and more or less stumbled upon her. She accused me of the most ridiculous thing, and before I knew it, we argued, and I left her in the garden.”

Giulia found that most peculiar. “Do you know why she was there?”

“I do not know, and I don’t care. The woman behaved horribly! Again.”

“You were not in a good mood either when you sneaked out. After your conversation with the count that was understandable.”

“Which is completely beside the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care. She was rude and confrontational. What she said was utter nonsense, and I would prefer not to have the misfortune of ever meeting her again.” Eleanor slumped back in her seat.

“All right. But can you at least tell me what has you so riled up every time the two of you meet? This is so unlike you, Eleanor.”

Although she did have a suspicion, the contessa wisely kept it to herself. She was well aware her granddaughter would disagree strongly with any such opinion and discard it as foolishness.

Eleanor sighed at her nonna’s question. She had wondered herself why that horrid woman was able to get a rise out of her so easily.

She had thought she could understand and forgive the Sophie von Hagendorf for her awful behaviour, but something else was causing her temper to flare.

“I don’t quite understand it myself. It is just that . . . oh, I don’t know. Why don’t we join the others and make the best of the rest of the evening?”

“Very well, my dear.”

 

Sophie sat on the bench berating herself for being such a complete moron, again. She had come here planning to remain anonymous, and when the duchess exited the villa, she had the best of intentions. Somehow everything turned into a disaster the moment she opened her mouth. It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried, but when the duchess hadn’t accepted her attempt to behave decently, her own temper had flared. She could talk to scum such as Bernthal in the most pleasant manner, but she couldn’t give that beautiful woman a chance?

If she was honest, though, Sophie had to admit the duchess hadn’t seemed as taken with the count as she accused her to be. She could tell her smile had been fake, not that the man would have noticed.

Sophie realised that her stupid insinuations were completely unfounded, and she should never have voiced them. The duchess had wanted to get away from him and the crowd. She had been hoping for quiet and instead, Sophie had ruined it.

Well done, once again. Could she ever get it right?

Maybe she should simply swallow her pride and give it another try. What was the worst that could happen after all? Being put in her place by the woman again? Thrown out on the scruff of her neck by a footman? It was not as if she didn’t deserve it.

Sophie decided it was worth the risk. Tomorrow was as good a day as any, and maybe she would be lucky and the duchess wouldn’t be so angry anymore.

One could only hope.