Her second husband, the stepfather of Count Geza Mattachich, was a member of the Chamber of the Hungarian Magnates, a Deputy and friend of the Vassals of Croatia. I felt convinced that nobody would dare to carry me off whilst under his roof.
Our adventure was by this time a public topic. The papers of every country referred to it. The duel was the culminating point of this terrible publicity. And, since calumny and its manœuvres had not, as yet, had any effect, we were looked upon as romantic persons whose sincerity disarmed criticism and called forth feelings of sympathy.
When I think that since then I have been taxed with duplicity, I cannot help smiling. Few cases can be quoted of a more open existence than mine. I have never concealed from my friends what an exaction my life with my husband was to me, and when I was powerless, I never made any mystery of the help which I found in a chivalrous deliverer most providentially placed in my path.
But the world does not forgive those who will not wear a mask of duplicity, and who refuse to conceal the feelings of their heart.
So many people are compelled to hide their feelings. But we, but I ... truly, where is the crime?
I am quite prepared to die; I have no fear of the justice of God.
Strong in our common loyalty we were foolishly persuaded that in France, England, Germany and elsewhere we should be in danger; we had been warned that my husband's intention was to put me in an asylum—Gunther of Holstein had told me this, and had spoken of having me protected by his all-powerful brother-in-law.... What an unforgettable comedy! We arrived in Croatia feeling sure that under the Keglevich roof I should be safe.
The count confided me to his relatives for so long as it would take to obtain a separation from the Prince of Coburg. The talk died down. Public opinion was on my side, chiefly in Agram where the count and his family were regarded with affection. At Vienna even the inimical camarilla was disarmed. We were now only two creatures like so many others; the one bruised by her broken chains, the other willing to assist her. And this devotion perhaps, one day, would be sanctified by time.
Oh dreams! Oh hopes! We are your playthings. The awful reality rises up and rends us.
We had not foreseen the plot against us and what odious accusations would be levelled at the count.