CHAPTER SEVENThat Sunday, I found myself high in the hills above Buda, sitting on the terrace of a tiny, secluded inn, sipping sweet, local wine while the warm breeze blew my hair against my cheek, and I idly watched Lajos Lázár flick through the pages of a book.
As if to rub salt in my wounded conscience, the Count and Countess had generously granted me the whole of the day to myself, while they took the children on an overnight visit to friends in Pest County. Ungratefully dismal, I had thought I might go to church. I was still slightly confused as to how I had got here instead, but I had long since stopped worrying about it. Rather, replete after a simple, hearty lunch, I leaned back in my seat, sighing contentedly, letting the peace of the place flow over me.
It had been Zsuzsa the n
