Van Helsing only grunted, walking over to the pot and ladling out a serving. A flicker of agitation stirred in Mina at hislack of manners toward Quincey, but she reminded herself that Van Helsing was the reason she was still alive. She shifted in her seat, suddenly aware that she was the intruder here.
“I hadn’t known there were any living this close to the castle,” she said to Quincey.
“That is by design,” he replied. He opened his mouth to say more, then glanced toward Van Helsing.
The two exchanged a look.
“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious. She turned to Van Helsing, who gave Quincey a shrug before reaching for a spoon. It felt like a private language, and she wondered what had just passed between them.
“Pardon my manners, Miss Mina,” Quincey said. “But you’re married to the Count, are you not?”
Shame warmed her cheeks as she glanced toward Van Helsing. He was watching her closely, as though measuring her reaction.
“After all he’s done, after locking me in the dungeon of that castle, you think my loyalty lies with him?”
“Well, I don’t know you yet,” Quincey said simply. “I have to assume there’s some loyalty there, considering you’re his wife.”
Agitation flared within her. “I assure you, that title means very little to the Count,” she said. She looked down at her bowl, no longer hungry, though she knew she should probably eat more.
She wasn’t sure why it upset her so much that these two strangers didn’t trust her. It wasn’t as though she trusted them either—she knew nothing about them. Yet the thought of being regarded as the enemy by the man who had just risked his life to save her felt like a kind of betrayal. Why rescue her at all if he already believed the worst of her?
“I truly mean no offense,” Quincey said, his voice softened now. “It’s just that matters of the heart are never so straightforward. Wouldn’t you agree?”
To that, she said nothing. Her thoughts drifted to the version of the Count she had slowly come to know—the version who was kind, thoughtful, gentle. But then again, she supposed it was easy enough to maintain such a façade within the walls of the castle, a place where he held complete and utter control.
Quincey walked over to the table, kneeling so he was at eye level with her now. Something about the gesture almost made her want to cry—the softness she found in his vivid eyes.
“No matter what our hesitation,” he said, “we will do everything in our power to protect you. It’s vital you understand that, miss. Please, do not fret.”
Mina nodded, finding that somehow, after all she’d experienced, she believed him. This stranger who she knew nothing about. Whether that meant he was sincere, or it simply meant that she was foolish, she couldn’t say.
Quincey stood up, announcing to the room that he was going to check on the horses. He paused for a moment, andin her periphery, Mina saw that he gave a pointed look to Van Helsing, who was leaning against the counter, eating his stew.
“Why did you come for me?” Mina asked once the front door had closed. “You clearly knew I was in that dungeon. But how? And why?”
Van Helsing shifted, looking—for the first time—uncomfortable. “How much do you know of the Count’s travels?” he asked.
Mina furrowed her brows. “Nothing, really. He never shared with me where he went or what he did while he was gone.”
“Do you know about his time in England?”
She paused. “You mean . . . earlier this year?” she asked, thinking back to when he had made the gamble with her father.
“More recent than that,” he said.
And then, she remembered Carfax. The property the Count was meant to purchase. The paperwork Jonathan had brought with him.
“I know he signed the paperwork for a property in England. Just outside of London, I believe.”
“Did he ever take you there?”
“No,” she said. “I’ve only been here a few weeks. There was hardly reason to return to London so soon.” She swallowed. With all she’d experienced, somehow she’d forgotten about Carfax. She supposed she’d begun to believe she might never truly see the place herself—that the possibility of returning to England was getting more and more unlikely.
“I believe the Count is in England,” he said. “And not just on a brief trip. He hired men to transport some of his belongings from the castle.”
She frowned, confusion coursing through her. What belongings did he possibly want to take? The castle was sparse enough as it was. But then Mina thought back to the noises she’d heard from the dungeon, to the voices that had ignored her calls for help. They had to have taken something from the underground, but what?
“Are you suggesting the Count left me here and went to London?” Van Helsing nodded slowly, and something about his expression made her chest tighten. “But, why would he do it?”
