Her heart quickened at the sound of her full name on his lips. No one in England called her that—not even her parents had when they were alive. It made her feel, briefly, as though she were someone entirely new. As she met his gaze, a strange current seemed to pass between them.
Jonathan cleared his throat, and she looked away, suddenly embarrassed.
“I hope you take no offense,” Jonathan began, “but I notice you have a limited staff. It is rare to have a host such as yourself pour the drinks. Is this also custom in Transylvania?”
The Count stepped over to him, lifting Jonathan’s glass just as Sofia placed a full plate before Mina.
“I suppose it depends,” the Count said, filling the glass and setting it down. “The Dracules have always valued loyalty above all else.” He passed behind Mina on his way back to his seat as Sofia tended to Jonathan’s plate. “Why have a house full of strangers when one can keep a small circle and place deep trust within them?”
“That’s certainly not the English way, but I can see the merit in it,” Jonathan said.
“I suppose I still have much to learn about the ways of the English,” the Count replied, flicking his gaze to Mina. “Please, go ahead.” He gestured to the table. “You must be famished.”
“Aren’t you eating anything?” Mina asked.
“I’ve already eaten,” he said softly, offering her a small smile.
As she began to eat, Mina lingered on the statement. It made sense, she supposed—he could not have known exactly when they would arrive. And yet the meal had been timed so perfectly.
It made her consider what life inside the castle must be like. How did one man live in a place such as this, amid such isolation,with so few others for company? She imagined it would be worse still in the depths of winter.
“That look,” the Count said, leaning forward, his gaze fixed on her, “is one of great contemplation. What are you thinking, my bride?”
Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she reached for her glass, taking a sip to put off answering. She considered lying to avoid the discomfort of revealing her true thoughts, but as the plum brandy warmed her, it seemed to loosen her tongue.
“I suppose I’m just curious about your life here,” she said. “Do you normally eat supper alone? I would think it might be rather lonely.”
The Count fixed his gaze on Mina, unhurried, as though weighing his response.
Jonathan laughed lightly. “I’m sure the Count is far too busy to ever feel lonely.”
“On the contrary,” the Count said. “Although I may think of myself as more than mere man, I still feel the same longings as any man would.” He lifted his wine glass to his lips, not yet drinking. “Loneliness, I suppose, is simply the cost of power.”
He drank, and Mina found herself transfixed, eager to hear more.
Setting the glass down, he said, “I imagine you must have heard the musings of the villagers on your journey—their distrust of these mountains, their fear.”
“Do they have something to be afraidof?” Mina asked.
“Certainly,” he said. “The wolves in these woods are fierce and territorial. The weather can be treacherous if one is not prepared.”
“And what of the castle?” she asked. “Is there anything to fear within these walls?” She thought of Sofia’s concern about guests wandering these halls alone.
A glimmer of something sparked in his eyes. “This castle is hundreds of years old. There are parts of it in poor condition, weakened by time. As long as you stay with either me or Sofia, you are perfectly safe.”
She frowned, the implication of his words sending a flicker of disappointment through her. This was meant to be her home, and yet she would be expected never to walk its halls on her own.
“You are not pleased with my response,” the Count said.
“It is not that,” she said, shifting in her seat. “I suppose I am merely curious. It seems odd that I would not be able to roam the castle on my own.” Then she added, “If it is to be my home.”
“You must remember, Miss Murray, that things are different here than what you are accustomed to,” the Count said. “Transylvania is not England, and everything is as it is for a reason.”
“Speaking of cultural differences, there is the matter of Carfax,” Jonathan said with an easy smile. “I must say, I am surprised you have any interest in acquiring such a property when you already possess an estate such as this. Surely all of this is more than enough for one man.”
The Count inclined his head toward Jonathan. “Your observation is a fair one, Mr. Harker. I simply wish to expand my family’s empire—to bring a bit of Transylvania to England.” His gaze shifted then, settling on Mina. “And perhaps to have a property my lovely bride may visit when she is feeling homesick.”
“That is very thoughtful of you,” she said, though Jonathan’s earlier comment echoed through her mind.A woman’s touch, as though she were meant to warm what was cold and unyielding.
