In 1951 she hated her life so much, that she could no longer keep it to herself.
But it wasn't easy to decide, who she should tell. Not too many people will bare listening to a baroness, a heiress of the richest family in the world, complaining about how miserable she is.
She decided to tell Martha. Maybe she won't sympathize, but she will probably have something smart to say. She always did.
Few years earlier, right after she came back from Paris, she wondered by mistake into Martha Graham's studio and was immediately enchanted. She enlisted to the studio and started taking dancing classes, but it didn't go very well. Martha never told her to stop, but she figured out she should and left. She and Martha remained good friends though.
Martha looked at her with her intensely focused look that could turn those who didn't know her into stone. "You hate your life, don't you?"
She did not answer. It was clear to her that Martha saw right into her heart. She was glad that she didn't have to spell out her unthinkable thoughts. That she despised the lifestyle that was imposed on her by her status, that she hated being Mrs. Bloomingdale, and the most unthinkable thought of them all, that she missed the war time, when at least she was doing something that really mattered.
"Why don't you come back to the studio?", Martha's voice stopped her train of thoughts.
She was surprised by this offer, but then again, it wasn't too hard for her to know how to refuse.
"I am not a dancer, and we both know that!"
Martha took her sunglasses half down and looked at her over them with her huge black eyes. "My dear Bethsee", she said, " Not all my lessons are for dancers".
Her new life was about to begin.