The ghost of Raven Darkholme stood there, silently, as Anna Marie held her breath, wondering what had caused this apparition of her late mother to appear.
And then the ghost opened her arms to Anna Marie.
Anna Marie, frightened, slammed the door, shutting herself away, listening as she tried to catch her breath, her hand on the door handle as she heard faint screeching.
She waited, hearing silence, and calming her breathing.
Then the bony hands of her mother's ghost grabbed her shoulders, as the ghost phased through her closed door.
"Beware of the Iron Heart…" The ghost warned, words she had been told years ago.
Anna Marie shook herself free, landing on the floor, and backing up against the footboard of her bed, the ghost slowly fading back through the door, the black ethereal smoke disappearing with it.
The door opened once more and it was the housemaid, Ophelia. "Pardon me, miss…" She stopped, upon seeing Anna Marie on the floor. "Are you alright? Whatever is the matter?"
"Please….help me up…" Anna Marie requests, shaken and disheveled. Ophelia helps her up off the floor.
"Miss, there's a Sir Pietro Eisenhardt at the door." Ophelia explains.
"Pietro Eisenhardt?" She asks, confused.
"Yes. He's dripping wet and most insistent on coming in."
"Well, that's absolutely out of the question, Ophelia. Please, just tell him to go away."
"I tried."
"And?"
"He wants to talk to you."
A few moments later, Anna Marie descended the stairs, having collected herself enough to be at least somewhat presentable. She watched as Pietro arose from the seat he had taken while he waited, and his face was instantly concerned.
"Miss Darkholme? Are you alright? You seem a little pale."
"I'm not too well, Sir Pietro, I'm afraid." She answered. "My father isn't home…." She supplied, wondering what he was doing here when he should be at the ball that was currently being held.
"I know." Ophelia silently made her way to the kitchen, out of the way, and Pietro waited until she was out of sight to continue. "I waited in the rain for him to leave."
"Oh." She simply responded.
"I know he's going to the reception at the Wagner house, which is my destination, too."
"But that's in Bentwell Parkway, sir, this is Maston Park. You are very, very lost." Concern etched on her face. Did he not know how to get there?
"That I am…..and I desperately need your help." He implored.
"With what?" She asked.
"Miss Darkholme, the language, for one thing. As you can plainly see, I do not speak a word of American." He chuckled lightly, though there is a hint of self-deprecation.
She smiled a little, finding his admission to be endearing.
"Come with me." He requested.
"What?"
"Accompany me to the reception. Please, you would be the one familiar face in a room full of strangers."
"Sir Pietro, I really-"
"Please….Miss Darkholme, it would not sit well with me if the one person who has shown me kindness since I arrived was spending the evening all alone. Allow me the honor of escorting you to the Wagner house this evening. Please."
The ballroom was crowded with people, waiters carrying drinks and food through the masses as a piano played in a corner of the room.
Sat at the piano was a woman with auburn hair, wearing a crimson red dress, playing a hauntingly beautiful piece, her dark hair pulled up elegantly to display her sharp features. She finished her piece and the room applauded as she arose from the piano bench, her face emotionless until someone placed a bouquet of flowers in her hands, a polite smile gracing her features…..
…..until she saw her brother walk in. With a woman on his arm.
The entire room went quiet, and cleared a path as Sir Pietro Eisenhardt entered the room with Anna Marie Darkholme on his arm.
Anna Marie could see all the eyes on her and Pietro as they entered the room, and she was nervous as to how this might be perceived. She had sent word that she would not be attending, and now she was here, with Pietro, because he had asked her so earnestly.
Her hand was tucked into the crook of his arm as they walked into the ballroom, a path made as they walked in, murmurs and whispers surrounding their arrival.
He removed her cape gently from her shoulders, and she couldn't help but notice the way his blue eyes were fixed on her, the way she looked in her dress, a champagne colored gown with matching lace on the sleeves, the scoop neck of the gown adorned with little flowers, giving her the appearance of soft femininity, her red and white curls on top of her head in an intricate updo.
Pietro handed her cape to a nearby servant, and they shared a look, almost as if preparing each other mentally for the onslaught of looks and questions they were bound to get, as if they both realized that being here together was going to raise some eyebrows, but also a sense of solidarity together.
They were soon face-to-face with Kurt, and a dark haired woman who was eyeing Anna Marie with scrutiny. Not far behind, she could see Mrs. Wagner and young Justine Wagner, looking at her like she had grown a second head, and her father, James, who was a bit confused.
Oh dear. This is not going to be pleasant.
"Kurt, this is Sir Pietro Eisenhardt, Sir Pietro, Doctor Kurt Wagner. Best man in town if you are feeling poorly." She introduced them, her hand on the back of Pietro's arm.
"I've heard much about you from my mother and my sister," Kurt remarked. "Although I must confess I had a little trouble understanding your title."
"Freiherr. I believe you would equate it to a Baron in your English monarchy." Pietro answered, the German accent woven lightly into his words.
"Yes, Anna Marie kindly explained it to me." Kurt answered, which earned a smile from Anna Marie.
"Anna Marie, this is Lady Wanda Eisenhardt, my sister." Pietro gestures to the dark-haired woman in front of them.
Wanda regarded Anna Marie with a small, polite smile. "I'm delighted to meet you, Miss Darkholme." Her German accent was a bit more pronounced than her brother's but her elegance shone through, giving her voice somewhat of a charming quality.
Anna Marie nodded politely, as Wanda turned her attention to Pietro.
"You've managed to delay my brother quite a bit." She kissed her brother on the cheek and whispered something to him that no one else could hear.
She gestured to Justine Wagner, and brought her forward. "But now that you are here, dear brother, I'm sure our lovely friend Justine would be happy to see a demonstration of a proper waltz, since these American men don't know how to do it properly."
Pietro took Justine's hand and walked her towards the middle of the dance floor. "Come with me, Miss Wagner."
James walked closer to Kurt and was murmuring in his ear. "Interesting development, don't you think?"
"Indeed." Kurt's response, both of them rather confused and curious about the new development between Anna Marie and Pietro and how the evening had unfolded thus far.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please make some space." Mrs Wagner waved her hands and spoke to the crowd. "The Freiherr would like to demonstrate for us the waltz– European style."
Anna Marie approached her. "Mrs Wagner, please, I wanted to apologize-"
"Anna Marie….we weren't expecting you." Her tone was polite, but disapproving, which was expected.
"I know….and I'm sure there's no place for-"
"Don't worry, my child. Everybody has their place. I'll make sure you find yours." Her words, though polite, held a thinly veiled condescendence.
When she turned and walked away, Anna Marie was mentally kicking herself. Mrs Wagner's opinion of her was already low, tonight was not helping matters.
She took her place in the circle surrounding the area that was being prepared for Pietro to demonstrate the waltz.
Pietro began speaking to the crowd as servants were moving candelabras and small furniture out of the way.
"The waltz. Not a complicated dance, really. The lady takes her place slightly to the left of the leading gentleman…" He grabs a candle off of one of the candelabras being moved, holding the candlestick in his hand. "Six basic steps, and that's all. However, it is said that the true test of the perfect waltz is for it to be so swift…" He carries the candle flame in his hand as he walks, the flame moving with him, dancing with each movement. "...so delicate, and so smooth, that a candle flame will not be extinguished in the hand of the lead dancer. Now….that requires….the perfect partner."
Mrs Wagner and Justine were smiling at one another, expecting Pietro to walk up to Justine, take her hand, and lead her onto the dance floor to demonstrate this beautiful dance.
However, the room fell into murmurs of shock when Pietro walked straight past Justine and stood in front….of Anna Marie.
She looked up in surprise as he spoke softly to her.
"Would you be mine?"