“I don’t know,” he replied. “But I don’t believe any of it was an accident.”
“You think he chose me because I’m English? Because he wanted that property?” She considered it, but why go through the trouble of getting a bride—it wasn’t as though he needed her to buy the abbey.
“All I know is that this is far beyond you or I. He’s planning something, and the plan is in motion now that he’s gone to England.” He swallowed, something shifting behind his eyes.
Mina stared at the man, sensing that there was something else he was not sharing.
“There’s more, isn’t there?” His gaze flicked away. “What is it about? He won’t try to hurt my family, will he?” Mina’sstomach churned as she thought of her loved ones in London—of Lucy, Jonathan, Aunt Emily. “Do I have reason to fear for them?”
He was quiet, inhaling deeply. The front door opened, letting in a great gust of winter air with Quincey.
“I can’t say,” he replied again. “But wherever the Count is, I don’t think any are safe.”
“I’d agree with that,” Quincey said.
“I need to get back to London,” she said, fear tightening her chest. She didn’t know what she could do to prevent the Count from harming those she loved, but she couldn’t let him take them by surprise.
“That’s where we’re headed,” Van Helsing said. “We’ll stay here tonight and carry on at dawn.”
She nodded but couldn’t help but feel unsettled by the conversation. She was desperate to ask him more questions, but he had already turned away, seeming to end the discussion.
“Quincey will show you to your room.”
“You’ve been through a lot, miss,” Quincey said, his eyes soft as he looked at her. “You must be exhausted. Let me show you to the bedroom and you can have a lie down.”
Mina looked at Van Helsing. “You still haven’t told me—”
“We have many hours of travel ahead of us,” Van Helsing cut in. “You’ll have plenty of time to ask your questions.”
She noticed that he didn’t say he’danswerthose questions, but she supposed that would have to do for now.
Hesitantly, she nodded. “Alright.”
She stood from the table, leaving her empty bowl for the men to clean up, and followed Quincey down the short, dark hallway. Unlike the castle, each of the doors they passed stood open, and she saw that there were three small rooms at this end of the house—one bare of furniture, one with a narrow cot and a wooden trunk at its foot, and the one at the end of the hall held a full bed that took up most of the space. The room was dark, with a wall of windows each covered by closed shutters, and a newly lit candle on the stand beside the bed.
“Feel free to make yourself comfortable,” Quincey said. “But make sure to blow that out before you sleep. The last thing we need is a fire.”
She gave him a small smile. “Thank you,” she said.
He left, closing the door behind him, and leaving her alone within the shadows.
The floor beneath her was wood, not stone, the bed topped with a mattress and blankets, and yet, her chest tightened at the darkness.
Mina walked over to the window, opening up the shutters and looking out into the evening beyond. The sun had set, but the sky hadn’t reached its full state of night yet, and the stars were just starting to appear. She was most grateful for the snow, its bright white reminding her that she was not in the dungeon beneath the castle—she was free.
Safe.
At least for the time being.
She moved along the line of windows, opening the shutters one by one. Perhaps she should have been more mindful of hiding, but if any of the wives came looking for them—or if the Count himself did—she doubted a closed blind would deter them.
When she finally climbed into bed, her mind raced, and she didn’t expect sleep to come easily. Yet beneath the covers, she was quickly pulled into slumber.
CHAPTER 34
Shadows towered above them as they walked down the corridor. The wind howled through the cracks of the walls, masking the soft footfalls of the figure as they navigated through the stone halls. They turned down another pathway, moonlight spilling in from windows high above, revealing a man crouched on the moss-slicked floor at the end of the hallway.
The stranger’s head was bowed, and his hands were clasped in prayer. He whispered, his words indistinct, but he uttered them with such fervor, such devotion, that he didn’t notice their arrival. Satisfaction coursed through them at the sight of the pathetic creature.
