by Anne Mather
The harsh bleak tones brought Sophie hastily up out of her chair, while Victoria trembled slightly and was glad of the steady support of the desk. The Baron gave her a brief glance, and then looked at his daughter. ‘Well?’ he said.
‘Nothing, Papa.’ Sophie spread her hands appealingly. ‘We—we—were just discussing social problems, that’s all.’
Victoria felt a smile tugging at her lips. She sighed. There was something about Sophie that was at once annoying and yet amusing.
The Baron swung found on Victoria. ‘Is this true, fräulein?’
Victoria’s colour deepened. He must have heard what was being said as he entered the room and he was deliberately challenging her to deny it.
‘It is nothing I can’t handle, Herr Baron,’ she answered at last. ‘By the way, fräulein Spiegel has been looking for you. She told me to ask you if you would go and see her on your return. She is in her room.’ Victoria bent her head and shuffled the papers on the desk.
The Baron gave her his full attention. ‘And you, fräulein,’ he said sharply. ‘What are you doing here? I gave instructions to Maria that you should be allowed to remain in bed today.’ He shook his head. ‘I should have realised, of course, that any command of mine was tantamount to inviting your perversity!’
Victoria looked up. ‘I’m perfectly all right, Herr Baron. Maria delivered your message, but I prefer to be up and about.’
‘Nevertheless, I would have preferred you to take the rest!’ he snapped. ‘I have asked Dr. Zimmerman to look in on you later.’
Victoria made an exasperated gesture. ‘There was no need. I’m not ill!’
The Baron frowned. ‘You could have had concussion!’
‘I doubt it.’ Victoria clenched her fists. Talking to him like this was nerve-racking. She kept remembering the feel of his hands on her throat and the hard passionate demand of his mouth on hers. Was he able to dismiss what had happened so indifferently? Could he really be as emotionless as he would have her believe? She stared at him searchingly. What thoughts were going on behind that cold façade? And where did fräulein Spiegel come in? He had said she was a friend, and yet Victoria sensed that the other woman displayed some proprietorial interest in him. Was it returned? Exactly what did their relationship involve that she could invite him to her room so casually?
Now the Baron glanced round at Sophie. ‘Go and tell fräulein Spiegel that I shall be ready to leave in thirty minutes. Then you may get ready also.’
Sophie’s face brightened. ‘You mean I’m going, too?’
‘Of course.’
‘Whoopee!’ Sophie whirled round excitedly, at once only an excited child eager for an outing.
The Baron followed her to the door and after she had gone dancing off along the corridor he closed the door and came back to Victoria. Leaning on the desk, he regarded her with a piercing intensity. ‘Now,’ he said softly, ‘are you really feeling well? I only asked that you should remain in bed for your own welfare.’
Victoria compressed her lips. ‘That was very kind of you, Herr Baron,’ she murmured stiffly.
The Baron straightened abruptly. ‘I wish that you would not call me that!’ he said harshly.
Victoria’s breathing was jerky. ‘What would you have me call you?’ she queried unevenly. ‘Sir?’
‘My name is Horst!’ he said briefly. ‘As you well know.’
Victoria turned away from the devastating scrutiny of that blue gaze. ‘You know I could not possibly call you that,’ she replied chokingly.
She heard his muttered exclamation, and then he said: ‘We have to talk! About last night.’
Victoria wet her dry lips with her tongue. ‘You told me to try and forget what happened,’ she reminded him.
‘And can you?’ he asked hoarsely.
Victoria bent her head. ‘I shall try to do so, Herr Baron.’
‘Victoria!’ His voice was husky. ‘Please. Look at me!’
Her whole body was a mass of nerves and sensations and she knew her most sensible course of action would be to walk out of this room here and now before anything more devastating happened.
When she did not look round she heard him move and a few seconds later she realised he had come round the desk to stand right behind her. She trembled slightly, refusing to turn to him. He had no right to play with her emotions like this. What kind of a woman did he think she was?
‘I only want to talk to you,’ he said fiercely. ‘I realise what I am doing, but I can’t stop myself!’ His final words were violent with self-loathing.
Victoria hesitated, and then she turned slowly. He was so close she could see the thick length of his lashes and distinguish the tiny lines beside his eyes. She wanted to touch him so badly it hurt, and it was at once a pleasure and a pain to be this intimate with him.
‘Well?’ she said, with remarkable composure considering the chaotic turmoil of her thoughts.
He seemed to be finding it difficult to know where to begin. He ran a hand round the back of his neck impatiently, and then said:
‘I want you to know I am not in the habit of indulging in—well—emotional involvements with—with—Sophie’s governesses—--
Victoria frowned. ‘Why are you telling me that?’
He uttered an exclamation. ‘Surely it’s obvious!’ he snapped harshly. ‘You know as well as I do that you are the third governess we have employed for Sophie.’
Victoria twisted her hands together. ‘You mean you thought I might attribute their resignation to your, unwanted attentions?’
‘Exactly.’ He raked a hand through his hair.
Victoria shook her head. Such a possibility had not even crossed her mind. She had known from the outset that the Baron was not a man to whom sexual encounters were a game to be played.
‘In addition,’ he went on, with obvious reluctance, ‘your influence on Sophie during these past three weeks has clearly improved her mental stimulation, and while I know you will say there is still much to be achieved with her, the first and most important step has been taken.’ He sighed. ‘That is why it is necessary that I should endeavour to explain my unforgivable behaviour. I should hate you to feel that you must resign because of me.’
Victoria pressed a hand to her stomach. ‘Resign, Herr Baron?’
‘Of course?’ He passed a hand over his eyes wearily. ‘I should never forgive myself if through my despicable behaviour Sophie was deprived of the first chance she has had to learn from someone she respects and admires.’
Victoria swallowed hard. It was apparent now that the Baron deeply regretted his impulsive actions and his main fears were that she might decide to leave before her job was done. If his own emotions had been disturbed, more, were still disturbed, this was something he could live with, so long as Victoria realised that such an incident would never be repeated. In a way, he was using her to prevent any further emotive confrontations. By putting her on her guard, he was removing all doubts from her mind that his responses were anything more than a physical awareness.
Now Victoria took a step back away from him. ‘You need have no fears on that score, Herr Baron. I’m as determined as you are that Sophie should be given the opportunity to become a normal child again. As for her respect and admiration—I am not convinced I have those. Perhaps something akin to grudging liking is nearer the mark.’
He stared at her intently. ‘I have angered you,’ he said perceptively.
Victoria sighed. ‘You have not. I just wish you would go and let me get on with what I have to do,’ she replied shortly. ‘Besides,’ there was bitterness in her tone, ‘no doubt fräulein Spiegel is waiting for you.’
He held her eyes with his. ‘fräulein Spiegel means nothing to me. She is a friend, no more. Years ago she used to live in Reichstein. In those days it was thought that we were eminently suited to one another, and it was even thought that we might marry. But nothing came of it, and Marguerite went to work in your country. She is a fashion designer, a very successful o
ne, I believe.’
Victoria raised her shoulders indifferently. ‘That is of no interest to me, Herr Baron,’ she said, almost insolently.
‘Isn’t it?’ he asked coldly.
Victoria rubbed her nose with her forefinger. ‘How could it be? I am not your keeper. You have just explained that what took place between us was the unfortunate outcome of circumstances. How could your—your other affairs concern me?’
His eyes were forbidding. ‘You are deliberately trying to infuriate me, Victoria!’
She stared at him impatiently. ‘Why don’t you go then? Why are we talking here? To what purpose? Do you require some kind of absolution from me so that you can return to your wife with an easy mind—--’
‘Be still!’ His face was pale beneath the tan. ‘I have no wife!’
Victoria’s face registered her incredulity. He had no wife! What was that supposed to mean? That Sophie was right? That her mother had never been married to her father? That her speculation about the possibility of his having had an affair with one of the village girls had some basis in fact? She was completely bewildered.
Now she could only stand and look at him helplessly, wishing she had never goaded him to this point. There was a defeated weariness about his expression that tore her heart, and yet she didn’t know how to erase that look from his face. She wanted to say so many things, there were so many questions she required answers to, but she could say nothing.
The Baron drew himself up to his full height and turning walked across the room to the door. There he halted, and turned and looked at her. ‘So now you know, fräulein,’ he said harshly. ‘Your curiosity about Sophie’s mother has been appeased!’
Victoria shook her head confusedly. ‘You mean Sophie’s mother is dead?’ she asked tentatively.
The Baron’s eyes narrowed bleakly. ‘Oh, nothing so simple, fräulein,’ he replied coldly. ‘So far as I know she is alive and well and living in Stuttgart!’
And without giving her chance to query this he went out, slamming the door with controlled violence.
CHAPTER TEN
THE day went terribly slowly. Maria informed Victoria that the Baron and his guest and Sophie would not be back until dinner time and in consequence she had long hours to fill when her mind was troubled with conflicting anxieties. It was impossible to put what the Baron had said out of her mind, and she could not concentrate on what she was doing with any degree of consistency. The memory of those last few moments went round in her head until she thought she was going out of her mind.
Finally she left the written task she had set herself and went into the great hall, spending several inconsequential minutes playing with the dogs. It was such a relief to escape from the confusion of her reasoning and allow pure physical sensation to take the ascendant.
The sound of a car entering the courtyard brought her to her feet, and she ran to the window to see who it was. It was Conrad Zimmerman’s car, and he saw her looking out and waved as he had done before. But this time Victoria didn’t stop to wonder whether she ought to entertain him in the Baron’s absence, she was too relieved to have someone to talk to, someone to distract her from her single-minded miasma.
She opened the door as he reached it, and he smiled at her welcoming countenance. ‘Well, fräulein,’ he said, in imitation of the Baron’s deep tones, ‘what are you doing here; waiting for some man?’
Victoria smiled. ‘Don’t be silly, Conrad. Come on in, it’s freezing out there. The Baron told me he’d asked you to call. There was no need professionally. I’m perfectly all right.’
Conrad closed the door. ‘Is that so? Whatever were you doing climbing about the Glockenberg?’
Victoria compressed her lips. ‘Trying to grab Helga. She refused to come when I called and I tried to catch her.’
‘I see.’ He nodded, and stood his case down on the table. ‘Well, as I am here, I shall take a look at the damage. And then perhaps Maria will invite me to stay for lunch.’
Victoria frowned. ‘What about your other patients?’
‘Unless an emergency happens, which I do not expect, I am free for a couple of hours,’ he replied, removing his overcoat. ‘I must say I expected a warmer welcome.’
Victoria looked rueful. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just that—well, I don’t feel free to offer you hospitality when I’m only an employee here.’
Conrad shook his head. ‘Never mind. Maria will permit me. I have had lunch here many times when Horst has been away for the day.’ He opened his case. ‘Now—let me see your head.’
Conrad stayed until the middle of the afternoon, sitting in the kitchen with the two women and regaling them with amusing anecdotes about his patients. He was a nice man, thought Victoria, wondering why it was she seemed doomed to become involved with those who were something else.
After he had gone, she stayed with Maria, fingering the polished surface of the dresser and lifting a shining saucepan and examining her face in it absorbedly. Then she turned, and said:
‘Maria, who is Sophie’s mother?’
Maria stood as though rooted to the spot for a moment. ‘Ach,’ she said at last, ‘it is nothing to do with me, fräulein.’
Victoria sighed. ‘Why all this mystery? Everyone I ask avoids talking about the woman. Why? What happened?’
Maria moved to the table, picking up a plate and smoothing its surface with her gnarled fingers. ‘Why don’t you ask the Baron, fräulein?’ she asked softly.
Victoria sighed again. ‘This morning the Baron told me Sophie’s mother was living in Stuttgart. Is that right?’
‘If the Herr Baron says it is so, it is so,’ intoned Maria.
‘He also said he had no wife.’
‘That is correct, fräulein.’
‘Yet when I asked you on my arrival where the Baroness was, you said she was not here, implying that she was somewhere else.’
‘That is so,’ nodded Maria. ‘The Baroness is the mother of the Baron. She comes to Reichstein in the summer, but in the winter it is too cold for her. She stays with the Baron’s sister in Vienna.’
Victoria digested this slowly. So the Baron had a mother and a sister. Somehow she had imagined he was the last of his family, apart from Sophie, of course.
‘I see,’ she said at last. ‘So Sophie’s mother was never the Baroness.’
‘Ach, I did not say that, fräulein.’
‘You mean they’re divorced?’
Maria’s face was annoyed suddenly. ‘Oh, of course not! The Herr Baron would never stand for a divorce.’
Victoria tried to be patient. ‘So they were never married,’ she exclaimed.
‘Oh yes, fräulein, they were married. In the beautiful little church on the outskirts of the village. You have seen it, ja? It was a white wedding; so beautiful; she with her long hair twined with orange blossom, and wearing a dress of Venetian lace! So beautiful, but such a waste!’ Maria shook her head in bitter reminiscence.
Victoria frowned. ‘I think you’re deliberately trying to confuse me, Maria,’ she exclaimed helplessly.
Maria raised her eyebrows. ‘Perhaps I am, fräulein, perhaps I am.’ She shrugged. ‘In any event the Baron has not been the same man since.’
Victoria turned away, puzzling over what Maria had said. It seemed plain from her attitude that she felt she had said too much already, but Victoria could scarcely guess the rest. She could speculate, of course. Find reasons why they should not be legally married. But why, oh, why couldn’t she just let it be? It was not her concern. One thing was, however.
‘Maria,’ she said tentatively, ‘does the Baron dislike long hair?’ It sounded so ridiculous put like that, and she waited hesitantly.
Maria looked up, her face harsh. ‘Sophie’s mother’s hair was long,’ she said. ‘I think the Herr Baron thinks of her when he sees long hair!’
For the next few days Victoria saw little of the Baron. fräulein Spiegel did not leave in two days as had been expected and if her reasons for staying wer
e obscure to Victoria they were not so to Sophie.
‘She is a serpent, that woman,’ she announced one afternoon as Victoria was busy marking an essay she had composed.
Victoria looked up in surprise. Sophie was scowling across at her, her work temporarily forgotten. ‘I presume you are not talking about me,’ she commented lightly.
Sophie grimaced. ‘Of course not. You know who I’m talking about. That Spiegel!’
Victoria laid down her pen. ‘How can you make such sweeping judgements, Sophie?’ she enquired mildly. ‘You hardly know the woman.’
Sophie sniffed. ‘I know that she’s only staying at Reichstein because she thinks Papa will fall in love with her and marry her.’
Victoria quelled the surge of pain the child’s words stirred in her. ‘I think you’re being unnecessarily premature, Sophie,’ she said. ‘I’m quite sure fräulein Spiegel is not at all the kind of person to be content with the isolated kind of life we live here at Reichstein. She is much more a social creature. Besides, there’s her work to consider.’
Sophie heaved a sigh. ‘But don’t you see,’ she exclaimed, scornfully, ‘staying at Reichstein never occurs to her. She probably expects Papa to sell up and go and live with her in Vienna, or somewhere like that.’
Victoria wet her dry lips with her tongue. ‘I’m quite sure your father would consider doing no such thing. He loves Reichstein. This is his home, his inheritance! I can’t imagine your father being influenced to sell Reichstein by any woman.’
Sophie frowned. ‘Do you think not?’
‘Of course. Heavens, if he had wanted to sell, he could have done so years ago.’
‘I know, but there was no fräulein Spiegel then.’
‘Of course there was. Your father told me that he has known fräulein Spiegel for many years, since before—since before he married—your mother.’
Sophie’s face darkened. ‘He didn’t marry my mother.’
Victoria gave an impatient exclamation. ‘Of course he did. Maria told me.’
Sophie sniffed again. ‘But it wasn’t a proper wedding,’ she said unhappily. ‘My mother was already married, you see. To someone else.’