“And you’re willing to do so, sight unseen?” Jonathan asked, drawing back the Count’s attention. “I would imagine with an investment of this magnitude—”
“Money is no object, Mr. Harker.” The Count leaned forward, a softness bending his mouth as though he were on the verge of a smile. “Besides, you have seen the property, have you not?”
Jonathan cleared his throat. “I have.”
“And what did you think?”
Jonathan shifted in his chair.
“In some ways, it bears a similarity to this structure,” Jonathan said, glancing around the room. “It is very large, very old, and surrounded by a wall of solid stone. There are few windows, and those are set high and barred with iron. It looks more like a keep than a family home. The land is far from most others,save for one very large house that has since been converted into a private institution for the insane.”
Mina listened intently, unsure how she was meant to feel about this. She glanced at the Count and found a soft smile on his face.
“It sounds wonderful,” the Count said. He leaned back in his chair, seeming to take some pleasure in Jonathan’s confusion. “Mr. Harker, I am not a modern man, as you may know. I am traditional, of an old family, accustomed to a certain way of life. To live in a new house, one that is bright and young, would surely kill me. I enjoy the shadows of my castle, and your description of Carfax only further convinces me that I have made the right choice. After all, a house cannot be made habitable in a day.”
“I am glad to hear your enthusiasm for the property,” Jonathan said. “I’ve brought the paperwork along, so we can go over it tomorrow morning, if you like—before the marriage ceremony, or after.”
Marriage.The word made Mina’s skin prickle with unease.
“Forgive me,” the Count said, “but in the time between our correspondence, I have been summoned. I am needed elsewhere on business, and I shall leave at first light tomorrow.”
“For how long?” Mina asked. The thought of being left alone in the castle, with only a skeleton staff for company, filled her with sudden dread.
A softness entered the Count’s blue eyes as he looked at her. “Not long. I travel often—some journeys are brief, others more involved. This one will be swift. I should return by nightfall.”
Mina felt a pang of relief, followed immediately by embarrassment. Was she truly relieved at the presence of a stranger? Then another thought surfaced—how far could he possibly go in the time it would take to descend the mountain and return?
“However,” the Count went on, “as Mr. Harker shall serve as witness, the wedding must be done swiftly. We shall wed tonight.”
CHAPTER8
The Count led them down a long corridor that ended in a stone stairwell. They followed him down two flights before he turned again, guiding them into yet another hallway, wall sconces already lit along their path. Mina’s pulse quickened as they went deeper into the heart of the castle, each closed door indistinguishable from the last.
They turned down another corridor, this one ending at a large wooden door banded with iron. Mina’s thoughts wandered to what might lie beyond it—a stairwell, perhaps, or yet another passage. It struck her then how strange it was that, in a castle so vast and empty, every door remained firmly shut.
As they approached, the Count produced a ring of keys, heavy and iron, more suited to a jailer than a host. A harsh squeal cut through the silence as he twisted one in the lock, pulling the door open to reveal a dark staircase descending below.
He stepped back, lifted one of the wall sconces, and moved forward to lead the way down. Mina hesitated, her feet refusing to carry her on. Then Jonathan was at her back, offeringa tight smile. She drew a steadying breath and followed her husband-to-be down the stairs, into the unknown.
The air below was cold and damp, heavy with the smell of earth. She thought she heard a scutter as they continued downward. The steps stretched on longer than they should have, until at last they reached another corridor. Here there were no doors—only stone on every side, pressing in around them like the walls of a vast coffin.
“I cannot imagine how you know your way around,” Jonathan said, breaking the silence.
Mina had the sudden realization that, should the light in the Count’s hand fail, they would be plunged into complete darkness. She forced the thought away before panic could take hold.
“This castle has been in my family for hundreds of years,” the Count said, carrying on toward the shadows without hesitation. “I grew up here. I could walk these halls with my eyes closed.”
Then, as they turned once more, Mina caught sight of a soft glow ahead. Relief washed over her when she realized he was not leading them into a dungeon beneath the earth, but toward a hidden chapel of sorts.
“This was built during the Turkish wars,” the Count said as they approached the archway, the entrance marked with thick stone pillars on either side. “When the Ottomans sweptthrough the land, burning Catholic churches, my family’s only option was to bring the church inside—out of sight.”
On either side of a narrow aisle sat three rows of pews, the wood dark and smooth. Lanterns fixed along the stone walls provided the only light.
“It’s lovely,” Mina said, more out of politeness than conviction. Of all the churches she had seen in England, this one was notably bare—there were no crosses or crucifixes, and she saw no Bible anywhere. She supposed that too was part of its need to remain hidden.
Her hand rose to the crucifix at her neck, her fingertips brushing its edges.
“I will fetch the priest, and then we shall begin,” the Count said, placing his torch in one of the empty wall brackets. Mina watched as he walked down the aisle, turned right, and opened a small door to the side—one she had not noticed before.
