The laugh was distinctly female—almost the giggle of a schoolgirl—and Mina could only think of Sofia. It seemed strange the woman would be capable of such a sound, given the tightness she’d worn all evening. Then came a sharpshh, followed by the soft shuffle of movement beyond her door.
Confusion gave way to alarm. Mina sat up, staring into the shadows of the room, suddenly aware of how vulnerable she was.
After several long moments of silence, she slid from beneath the covers. The stone was cold beneath her bare feet as she walked over to the door and leaned in, pressing her ear to the wood. Her heart thrummed, the sound of it filling her ears, and she forced herself to breathe slowly, listening.
Then came the faintest whisper—not one voice, but two.
Wilhelmina.
Mina frowned, doubt rushing in. She had struck her head when she fainted earlier—was this the result of that injury? Was she imagining things? Surely there could not be two women standing outside her door in the middle of the night, whispering her name.
Was it the staff, trying to frighten her? Yet she had seen only Sofia and Vasile. Were there others in the castle? If so, she had seen no sign of them at all.
She listened, dread tightening in her chest as she slowly reached for the handle, the metal cold beneath her skin. It wassilent now, and with a dullclickas she eased the door open, she tried to be as quiet as possible.
Beyond the threshold was only darkness.
Mina stood with the door ajar for several moments. From outside the castle came the groan of the wind, its rustle moving through the trees far below, but within these stone walls, all was still.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she opened the door further, a traitorous creak betraying her presence.
She paused, waiting—though for what, she did not know.
Still, there was nothing. Not so much as a whisper.
Drawing her courage together, Mina stepped into the hall. Goosebumps prickled along her skin, and she could not shake the sense of someone there in the shadows, watching her, unmoving and unseen.
When she could resist the urge to flee no longer, she retreated to her room and searched for a candle.
She found one on the nightstand and carried it to the hearth, where the fire had dulled to a low amber glow. After several attempts, the wick finally caught, and the candle flared to life.
Mina returned to the doorway and held the light out into the corridor beyond, finding it empty.
She was completely and utterly alone.
Relief should have followed, but it did not. The entire incident had left her unsettled.
After shutting the door, she crossed the room and set the candle on her bedside table. As she climbed back into bed, her eyes remained fixed on the door, her mind replaying the earlier sounds.
She lay awake for a long while, listening.
CHAPTER 10
London, England
Lucy stood at the top of the staircase, blinking into the darkness. The air was cold, but Lucy couldn’t feel it, her mind caught in a dream. She took the first step, and then another. One by one, she made her way down the familiar staircase of her townhome, reaching the bottom without incident.
She moved through the small foyer and reached for the door, finding it locked. Her mother always locked it—a sensible habit, given that it was just the two of them living alone on the edge of London. But the lock was no matter for Lucy. Her body knew the motions by heart. She reached down to flip the latch, then up to slide the chain free.
The door opened with a groan, and a gust of ice-cold wind enveloped her. She stood there, eyes open but unseeing, and stepped out onto the cold concrete. All was quiet, the night so deep that most had long since retired. Those who remained were rarely ones with good intentions.
Lucy walked down the handful of steps and turned onto the path she had taken many times before.
Dogs barked in the distance, catching her scent, sensing her movement. Goosebumps spread across her skin, the thin cotton of her nightdress offering little protection against the autumn wind. Still, she went on.
After only a few more steps, she turned again and raised her fist to knock on the door. The motion was languid, weak, though she did not notice.
She waited for an answer—waited for Mina to open the door, to let her in so they might go to luncheon together. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining. It would be a pity to waste it.
