“I always thought you were a lovely little thing despite your red hair,” the older woman said, her ruddy complexion a clear indication of her drunken state. I could almost forgive her comment if not for her cruel eyes.


This final remark wore away at my resolve and having been teased my entire life because of my red locks, I bristled under her words. I was about to retort when a voice with a thick English accent responded instead.


“I think red hair is the mark of a beautiful woman.”


Turning, I saw a tall man with blond hair and brilliant pale blue eyes approaching. Sporting the latest fashion of a long coat, he was a striking figure. Something about his broad shoulders and the set of his chin reminded me of my father and I felt a lump in my throat.


Csilla rewarded him with a sweet smile and squeezed my hand lightly. “Of course it is! It is such a rare color and with her pale skin, it’s so striking.”


Without another word, Borbála stomped off to join the other gossiping biddies leaving us alone with the Englishman.


“Pardon my interruption,” he said, bowing. “My name is Percy Clarke and I had to come to defense of such a lovely young woman.”


“I am Baroness Dosza, but you may call me Csilla,” the baroness said, already turning her charms to the handsome man before us.


“I’m delighted,” Percy said, kissing both our hands. His Magyar was good, though thickly accented.


“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said to him in English. “I am Countess Dracula.”


His eyes widened with surprise. Quickly recovering, he said, “Countess Dracula, I take it you are English born?”


“I am. I was born Lady Glynis Wright. I married Count Dracula last year,” I said.


“It is definitely a pleasure to meet you! It has been quite some time since I was last in England. To hear another English voice is refreshing,” Percy answered.


“What is he saying?” Csilla asked me, slightly disconcerted to be excluded from the conversation.


In Magyar, I said, “Percy was just saying it has been some time since he was last on English soil.”


“I miss England,” Percy admitted, also in Magyar, “but I have a lot of business to attend to here in Buda. I probably will not be traveling back to England for some time.”


“It has been over two years since we departed England.” Even I could hear the sadness in my voice as the yearning to see the old manor grew almost unbearable in that moment of confession. I could so clearly remember the dark gray facade of my ancestral home against the backdrop of the lush green of the countryside. The voices of my family flitted through my mind, snippets of conversations floating like wraiths through my memory.


Percy’s pale blue eyes regarded me with curiosity as he shifted on his feet. Nearby, the birds rustled in the trees as the noise from the party stirred them from their slumber.


“I suppose it was your marriage that relocated you to the city of Buda,” Percy ventured.


“My family was traveling across the Continent when the Baroness introduced me to my future husband. After my family was tragically killed, I became Countess Dracula.” It was the truth, yet it excised so much of the pain and terror my family and I had endured. I immediately felt guilty, as though I had betrayed my family by so easily glossing over their brutal murders. I cast down my gaze, afraid that I may weep if I saw sympathy in his eyes. He reminded me so much of a younger version of my dear departed father.


“I do apologize for bringing up a sensitive subject,” he said swiftly.


“The Countess is a strong, and yet tragic figure.” Csilla’s smile cast in my direction could be perceived as affectionate, but I translated it as possessive. “She has risen above the tragedy that befell her family to woo not only her husband, but all of us who consider her our friend.”


“I am merely doing my very best in difficult circumstances,” I said swiftly, a touch embarrassed by her gushing words, but also antagonized by her portrayal of herself as an adoring friend.


“Never underestimate the English,” Percy said with a somewhat roguish smile. “That includes the ladies.”


I fluttered my fan at him playfully. “Well said and so true. Enough of my dark past, what brings you to Buda?”


“I am a merchant by trade. My company deals in textiles. Such as the lovely silk your gowns are made of.” His fingers lightly touched the puffed sleeve of my ice blue gown.


“So you must always know what is the latest fashion, I take it?” Csilla teased him with her long lashes and the alluring up turn at the one corner of her mouth.


“I know enough to know that you are both the most fashionable and lovely ladies at this party.” Percy smiled again, his white teeth flashing in the candlelight. “I must say, Countess, your shawl is quite lovely and intricate in design.”


“It was a gift from my mother. It is from Venice.” I shifted the delicate fabric around my shoulders. It whispered against my flesh and the silk of my gown. Aware of my too white complexion, I tried to wear shades of pale blue instead of white. The shawl perfectly matched the dress Vlad had a dressmaker create for me during my last visit to Buda. Though my reflection eludes me, I could see in Percy’s eyes that he thought I was attractive.


“I thought perhaps your husband had given it to you. Is Count Dracula about? He seems to be quite a mysterious, yet striking figure according to all the rumors.” Percy slightly inclined his head toward a group of vicious gossips huddled together tossing critical glares in our direction.


“He is quite formidable,” the baroness said with a beguiling laugh.


“My husband is not about at this time. He is at our country estate dealing with matters there,” I said, trying not to appear peeved at Csilla. “I am presently staying with the Baroness until our estate is restored. It burned earlier this year.”


“Your life has held far too much tragedy in the last year, my countess. I hope and pray that your future will be far brighter.” There was a genuine warmth in Percy’s voice that I found endearing.


“We all hope for the best,” the Baroness agreed, her arm sliding about my shoulders. Her kiss on my cheek sent the gossips flying like a flock of startled geese to all points of the party. The thought of them squawking out their particular brand of news amused me.


A figure in a demure white dress with a dark blue sash caught my eye. I craned my neck to see Laura standing beside her parents while several young people engaged her in conversation. There were two young men dressed in short pants and short coats and a young girl Laura’s age in a pale yellow gown. All were talking and laughing with the animation only youth can truly achieve.


Distracted, I missed the few bits of conversation carrying on beside me as I saw Laura’s eyes shift toward me. I gave her a nod and she smiled brightly.


“Ah, Sir Stephan’s daughter is being wooed by that horrible German.” Csilla fluttered her fan below her chin, her keen eyes directed where I had been gazing.


“Why is the lad so terrible?” Percy sipped his wine and also turned to look toward Laura’s suitor.


“Dietrich’s father is a German prince and the boy is the son of his father’s mistress. His father sent his mother and Dietrich to Buda when he was just a boy. She had the good fortune to marry a very wealthy and much older man. Old Igor absolutely doted on the boy and spoiled him terribly until the old man died. Rumor has it that they were left with a comfortable allowance, but not enough to sustain both of them indefinitely. Though Dietrich believes his father will one day call for him and make him a prince, he knows he must marry well and into money to continue his lavish lifestyle. Thus his pursuit of Laura.” Csilla arched her brows above her fan. “Since her brother died a few years ago, she is her father’s only heir. Sir Stephan does have a lot of money thanks to your good husband.”


“I do swear you have all the scandal, don’t you?” I flicked my fan toward one of the old gossips at work nearby. “Are you going to join them?”


“I can assure you my information is much more reliable than those harpies,” Csilla responded, smirking.


“Wherever there is money, there is intrigue.” Percy grinned.


“I’m sure the poor have their intrigues as well.” I thought of the gypsies I had accidentally trapped in the castle and felt a pang of guilt.


“Yes, but it is not as entertaining as all of this.” Percy gestured to the ruins just beyond the illumination of the candles. “Or as beautiful.” His eyes settled on my face and I flushed a little under his gaze. Perhaps I was flattering myself, but he appeared to be intrigued by me.


“I have decided I rather like you.” Csilla flicked the collar of his coat with her fingers as she graced him with a seductive look.


“I am flattered, but I am a married man,” was Percy’s swift response.


The baroness’ expression told him quite clearly that she did not find this to be an obstacle.


No longer desiring to listen to the baroness, I said, “Excuse me,” and slipped away. Quickly darting around a group of revelers and out of the view of the Baroness and the Englishman, I sought out Laura. Her parents had abandoned her to Dietrich’s company. Laura looked a bit overwhelmed by his ardent gestures while her two friends giggled at her side. Her expression reminded me a bit too much of May and I felt the sudden urge to rescue her.