The Founder of The House (The Gollantz Family Saga Book 1) by Naomi Jacob

Author:Naomi Jacob [Jacob, Naomi]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Jews, family, family saga, Jewish, antiques, romance, passion, Historical fiction
Publisher: Wyndham Books (Family Saga)
Published: 2014-08-23T00:00:00+00:00

3

I

Maria Dietrich awoke the following morning with a pleasant sense of expectancy. She had felt so when, as a child, she had awakened and remembered that it was her birthday. Lately there had been nothing new to look forward to. Theodore was dull, blinking at her through short-sighted eyes, with his little prim mouth pinched and thin. His one excitement was the discovery of new facts – it scarcely mattered what they were so long as they were facts. How thrilled he had been to discover, after long and extensive calculations, the exact number of buttons worn on the tunics of His Imperial Majesty’s army. He knew the precise number of horse carriages in Vienna, the approximate number of currants used by all the pastry-cooks every day in the year. There was no end to his items of interest, and he would discuss them all day long.

She had her two children, both boys, one five and the other only two. They were dear little things, pretty, taking after her, not after Theodore. She had been expected to produce sons; she had done her duty, and she felt that now she had some right to expect a little amusement.

There had been several young men who had interested her, but her interest had either died or they had become tiresome. Young Guchowski had been handsome, had danced divinely, but his utter stupidity and conceit had bored her. Franz Mayerhausen had been so ugly that half his attraction had lain in his irregular features, but he had taken everything so seriously. He had actually expected her to leave Theodore, fling away her position and leave Vienna with him for some impossible castle in the depths of Bavaria. Max von Furstberg had amused her longer than any of them, until he had begun to write music and insisted on playing over endless piano concertos to her – such bad music too!

Then, yesterday, she had seen this young Jew. Caroline Lukoes might be superior about him, might smile that queer, twisted smile of hers and, raising her eyebrows, murmur that he was only a tradesman no matter how handsome he might be. While she bathed and dressed, Maria wondered when he had found her handkerchief, and if he had realized that it was, in effect, a card of invitation to one of the most magnificent houses in Vienna?

She drank her coffee and nibbled her fresh brioche, entered her carriage and drove in the Prater, bowing right and left like a queen. All the time she wondered if he would come, if possibly he was already at the house? She ordered the coachman to return quickly. The major-domo hurried forward. Prince Theodore had asked for her – he was leaving Vienna for a few days, in search of some information he needed for his newest pamphlet. He had left a letter for her, and his regrets that he could not delay his departure.

‘There is a young man waiting, Highness. Emmanuel Gollantz, the son of the art dealer.

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