Chapter Twelve
The carriage rolledto a stop in a dim circle of light cast by two weak gas lamps, so that the facade of the enormous building that had been silhouetted against the moonlit sky was swallowed by the darkness.
The driver dismounted and opened the carriage door for her. “I am instructed to leave you here, Miss Blanchet, and to take your belongings round the service entry.”
Lina stepped out of the carriage, guided by the driver’s hand, and peered into the darkness. Gravel crunched beneath her feet. She could make out, just barely, the contours of an intricately carved, and massive, wooden door just beyond the lamps.
“But I...” she said, bewildered.
The driver, however, had already dropped her hand and mounted the carriage, and with a snap of the reins, the horses had begun a slow trot into the darkness.
“But how am I to... announce myself?” she asked the retreating carriage.
It was gone, around the corner of the wing jutting into the immense gardens, and Lina’s throat closed with a lump of fear.
There was no guard, and as she stepped toward the immense door, she realized that there seemed to be no mechanism by which to knock upon wood.
She tapped her knuckles against the wood, and the sound seemed to be absorbed into it, so she herself heard nothing, and surely there would be no sound traveling to the other side.
She stepped back, lifting her skirts, and peered up at the windows. All of the drapes were drawn severely, and either no light glowed behind them, or they were so thick as to give the appearance of emptiness.
The fear that had closed her throat squeezed even more tightly in her chest.
“Mr. Blackstone?” she said, but without bothering to say it loudly, for she knew there was not a soul that could hear her. She formed a fist and pounded against the door, but the sound was so muffled when it reached her own ears that she gave up readily.
A bird of prey screeched in the distance, causing tears to well up in her eyes.
A monster.
Mr. Blackwell’s reputation was becoming more and more grotesquely real by the minute.
Lina shivered, though it was quite warm. The sky in the east lit up with electricity and a rumble rolled over her.
“Mr. Blackstone!” she yelled, suddenly infuriated.
Her voice bounced from cold, dark wall to cold, dark wall.
Tears welled up and spilled to her cheeks, and she wiped them impatiently away.
She stood for a long time in the silence, and was on the verge of daring to walk around the enormous building to seek out the service entrance, while battling the urge to run away, when she heard a great rattling behind her. A sliver of weak light spread out upon the ground, and when she turned toward the door, she found it ajar.
Wiping one last tear away, she repeated dully, “Mr. Blackstone?”
There was no answer, and her heart pounded away in the stillness for several moments. But with no other recourse, she concluded that she had no choice except to enter.
