Chapter 8
“Countess Isabel von Furstenberg and Lady Kassandra Wyndham,” the liveried footman announced at the entrance to the great ballroom, bowing courteously.
“Isn’t this exciting?” Isabel whispered behind her fluttering fan as she and Kassandra swept into the throng of guests milling about the massive room. “And you look so beautiful, Kassandra,” Isabel said approvingly.
Kassandra’s voluminous gown, with an underskirt of rich brocade and a bodice and overskirt of shimmering silver satin, heightened the creamy porcelain of her skin and the fiery highlights in her hair, and set off to perfection her unusual amethyst eyes.
Isabel smiled behind her fan, recalling Kassandra’s concern over the low-cut neckline of her gown just before they had left the estate that evening.
“But, Isabel, it’s indecent,” Kassandra had exclaimed, tugging irritably at the bodice.
But it was of no use. She could do nothing to hide the provocative swell of her breasts, further enhanced by the stiff upper molding of her stays, which made her every movement startlingly revealing.
“My other gowns have a bit of ruffle around the edge of the bodice, a tucker. Surely—”
“Oh, really, Kassandra,” Isabel replied, laughing. “The tucker is well out of fashion. But you needn’t worry that you will stand out. All the ladies of the court wear such gowns.”
Ah, but she does stand out, and ravishingly, Isabel thought, elated that she had convinced Kassandra to accompany her this evening. In her own rose-colored taffeta gown edged with delicate gold ribbon, she knew they made a stunning pair.
“I’m so happy you are here with me, Kassandra,” Isabel enthused, raising her voice to be heard.
The din that echoed off the high frescoed ceilings was almost deafening, laughter and conversation from bewigged gentlemen and their sumptuously dressed ladies vying with the festive melodies being played by court musicians beneath an arched alcove.
Kassandra forced a bright smile. Though she knew she could not match Isabel’s enthusiasm, she was determined to give the evening half a chance.
She stared wide-eyed at the gilded splendor of the Hapsburg court.
Though her father had come here several times for audiences with Charles VI and his ministers, this was her first visit to the Hofburg.
She had to admit she had never seen such a ballroom, not even at the royal palace in London.
Mirrored walls reflected the light from a long row of gleaming gilt chandeliers, each one holding hundreds of slender tapers that flickered brightly, their radiance casting a golden glow on the richly colored paintings on the ceiling and the polished parquet floor.
High, arched windows looked onto the magnificent gardens, and pairs of liveried servants, resplendent in white powdered bob wigs and uniforms of blue brocade edged with silver threads, stood at attention beside tall, latticed doors that opened onto a curved terrace.
At one end of the ballroom tables had been set up for the banquet that would follow the formal reception, the fine Bruges lace tablecloths graced with gleaming silver candelabra and crystal wineglasses.
The white chairs placed around the tables were upholstered in plush red velvet brocade; white benches with gently curling legs and matching red cushions were set against the walls for guests who needed a respite from the constant standing.
“Kassandra,” Isabel said reproachfully, though her eyes twinkled, “you’re staring as if you’ve never seen a palace before.
” She slipped her arm through Kassandra’s and guided her along.
“Come, we must first be presented to Their Majesties and Prince Eugene of Savoy. Then we must find Stefan. I haven’t seen him yet, but I’m sure he’s arrived by now. ”
Kassandra felt her face grow hot at Isabel’s teasing, but she quickly swallowed her embarrassment as they took their places in the winding receiving line.
In no time at all she was standing in front of Their Imperial Majesties, Charles VI and his consort, Empress Elisabeth, who were seated on a raised dais at one end of the room.
She curtsied deeply as she was introduced, her gown spreading out upon the floor in shimmering ripples of silvery satin.
“How lovely you are,” the fair-haired empress murmured kindly, after Kassandra had kissed her hand and risen to her feet. She turned to her husband, who sat stiffly at her side.
“Charles, this is the daughter of Lord Harrington. If you recall, Countess Isabel von Furstenberg is betrothed to marry the good ambassador upon his return to Vienna.”
As the Emperor acknowledged her with a nod, Kassandra thought fleetingly how truly like a Hapsburg he looked, with his prominent chin and protruding lip.
His somber black court dress was in striking contrast to the iridescent blue silk of his wife’s gown and the richly colored fabrics worn by his courtiers.
Isabel had told her that the Emperor chose to follow the strict code of etiquette and dress adhered to in the Spanish court, where he had spent most of his youth.
“I had heard Lord Harrington had a daughter, and now I wonder where he has been hiding such a charming young woman these past months,” Empress Elisabeth continued, glancing back at Kassandra. She smiled sweetly. “I believe this is your first time at court, is it not?”
Kassandra nodded, blushing. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she said.
“Well, now that you have graced our court, we hope to see much more of you during your stay in Vienna. I’m sure that we have many young gentlemen who would be most delighted to make your acquaintance.”
Kassandra smiled weakly, her mind racing. Sweet Lord, now she would never be free of court functions! Yet she had no more time to think as Isabel took her elbow and steered her to where an officer was standing a short distance away. Instinctively she curtsied.
“It is a pleasure, Lady Kassandra,” Prince Eugene of Savoy murmured in a heavily accented voice that affirmed his French heritage.
Gallantly he held out his hand and helped Kassandra to arise, then turned to Isabel.
“Ah, and Countess Isabel. Your brother, Stefan, has once again proven an invaluable asset in our latest campaign. His bravery is to be commended.”
Kassandra stood at Isabel’s side, barely listening as the Countess and Prince Eugene discussed Stefan’s valor in battle.
She could hardly believe that this frail-looking man with his swarthy complexion and sunken cheeks could be the renowned commander of the Imperial army.
She felt awkward, fairly towering over him, while Isabel, a woman of petite stature, was gazing at the famous general, the most hated and feared enemy of the Ottoman Empire, eye to eye.
“Countess Isabel tells me you have yet to meet her brother,” Prince Eugene repeated, regarding her quizzically.
Kassandra started. “Ye-yes, that is true,” she stammered, strangely flustered.
She could not help but sense that the general had surmised her thoughts.
His dark eyes, the liveliest feature about him, seemed faintly amused as he turned back to Isabel.
Several other guests soon joined their group, and pressed around the general to hear more news of his recent victories at Peterwardein and Temesvar in Hungary.
Oh, this was all going very badly, Kassandra chided herself.
Suddenly she felt very warm, her tight stays an oppressive vise.
What she would give for a breath of fresh air!
She glanced over her shoulder, gratefully spying a set of nearby doors that led to the terrace.
She grasped Isabel’s arm and gently pulled her aside.
“Isabel, please excuse me, but I feel a bit lightheaded. The air in the room is so stuffy. I think I’ll step onto the terrace for a while.”
Concern touched Isabel’s delicate features. “Would you like me to go with you—”
“No, I’ll be fine.” Kassandra stopped her, shaking her head. “Please make my excuses to the general. And don’t worry, I’ll be back in a few moments.” She whirled on her heel and hurried across the room, nodding to the footmen standing on either side of the doors, who quickly opened them for her.
As she swept onto the curved terrace, Kassandra paused for a long, deep breath of the night air. She did not have her cape, but she doubted she would need it. So far it had been unusually warm for this time of year.
She felt refreshed at once, the stirring breezes working like a tonic to cool her flushed face. The rapid beating of her heart gradually subsided, replaced by a feeling of calm as she looked over the moonlit tranquility of the formal gardens.
It seemed almost a magical night, a haunting night.
Thin banks of clouds hung across the sky, a fine gossamer netting against the backdrop of blues that arced from the lightest turquoise at the horizon to inky blue-black at the highest zenith.
Myriad clusters of stars glittered like drops of dew through the translucent clouds, reminding Kassandra of a spider’s web.
The late autumn breeze rustled through the trees, the crisp leaves that still clung to the half-naked branches shimmering and dancing like undulating ghosts in the pale moonlight.
There was a hushed quality in the air, broken occasionally by bursts of soft, secretive laughter coming from guests strolling along the darkened paths.
A few flickering torches lit the marble stairs leading to the gardens on each side of the terrace, glowing beacons that seemed to illuminate the entrance into a mysterious world of shadows and intrigue.