Mina (15 page)

next afternoon.

Mina
answered the door herself. Her bonnet was already pinned on, and she carried a
coat and bag. "If I don't leave

immediately, Millicent will find some excuse to keep me
inside," she whispered as if she were a disobedient child. Her pace began
slowly then quickened. While they walked, Mina looked at the sunlit winter sky,
the frost her breath made in the air. She drank it all in eagerly. "This
is the medicine I need," she said and looked at Winnie with thanks.

They went to a confectioner's close
to the market, where they ordered cocoa and shortbread and took a table close
to the windows. Beyond the lace curtains and polished rolled glass, people
walked back and forth on mundane errands, while inside, Winnie sat watching the
smoke rise from her cigarettes as Mina went on with her story.

Mina had
just begun describing their chase across Europe when she noticed that tables
were filling up around them as people

came in for afternoon tea.
"The rest I haven't even told Jonathan," she whispered. "I can't
go on talking here."

"We'll
go to my house," Winnie suggested. "Mr. Beason will be working late.
Send a note home and stay for dinner."

Mina finished her story that evening. In the last moments of it,
when she described finding the bodies and taking the journal, Winnie sat with
her hands gripping the chair, her eyes fixed on Mina's. If Winnie was not fully
convinced, Mina knew she was nearly so.

"And
now you think the vampire is still alive?" Winnie asked.

"Not for certain, and yet it seems that he must be. I still
feel his blood in me. I still feel that passion his touch aroused." "That's
hardly surprising. You're a married woman. You now have permission to be
passionate," Winnie replied.

"You're right, but it's more
than that. I have dreams, terrible dreams. And the smell or sight of blood is
... attractive, far too attractive, and the attraction itself unnerving. I
wonder if I really did lose a child or if what I felt when I began to bleed
was something less natural. If so . . ." Her voice trailed off, and she
looked away to hide her fright. "Now, I keep waiting for all of these things
to diminish, but if anything they all grow stronger." She tried to shrug.
"I fight it. I put on a magnificent act even though I feel my will
crumbling slowly inside me."

"Have
you spoken to your husband about this?"

"A
little." Mina knew her deceit must sound strange, particularly since she
was newly wed. "He was through so much at Dracula's

castle, that any reminder of it is painful to him. If I tell him
about the journal, then he will want to know how it came into my possession.
I'm hoping to keep it a secret until it is translated, and even after that if
there's nothing in it of any importance. I suppose I'll have to go to London
to find an expert to work on it. If I do, we'll have to write back and forth.
Jonathan is sure to discover it.

"Well,
if that's necessary, you can have the letters sent here. But perhaps you won't
need to leave Exeter. I know of someone

here who has ties all over
eastern Europe, even into Russia itself-Lord Gance."

"Truly?
He's one of my husband's clients," Mina said. "We're invited to a
dinner party at his house on Saturday. Now Jonathan is

trying to beg off because
I've been

"Ill!
Despondent is more like it. That party is exactly what you need, Mina Harker.
Tell Jonathan so! Mr. Beason and I will be

there, so you'll know
someone. After you meet Lord Gance, it will be easier to approach him about the
book."

"But he
knows Jonathan," Mina protested and reminded Winnie of the need for
secrecy.

"Lord
Gance manages to be both a hedonist and an astute businessman. As a result, you
can rely on his discretion. He makes a

point of it, particularly
since he has had to rely so often on that virtue in others." Winnie
concluded that summation with a sly smile.

"And
for all that, you still sound as if you like him."

"In one
respect, I do. He's donated a great deal of money to our hospital, for no
reason whatsoever that I can determine unless . .

."

"Unless?"

"Unless
we've been treating his bastards. More likely, he actually possessed some noble
sentiment. Other than the regular drafts,

however, I've never seen
signs of it."

"No
wonder Jonathan was trying to wiggle out of the invitation."

"Well,
don't let him. One of Lord Gance's parties is not only socially acceptable, it
is probably the only interesting event you'll

attend for months in Exeter.
Now, promise me that you'll go."

"I
don't know. That's up to Jonathan."

"Damn it, Mina. Tell him you'll
go without him if he refuses." She noticed Mina's shock and added,
"You stood up to a creature who controlled the winds and wolves, who once
led armies, who lived for centuries. I think you're more than able to face down
one proper English husband."

"In
that case, I think it's time for me to leave," Mina responded.

Winnie seemed ready to apologize,
and Mina laughed. "You are so wise, Winnie dear, but gentle persuasion is
better than a battle of wills. I think some time alone with my husband is all
I'll really need. I think I'll stop by the firm and drag him away from work
early enough to stop by the dressmaker's with me. Once he sees the gown and how
anxious I am to go, the matter will be settled."

Jonathan
commented on how delightful it was to hear my laugh,
Mina wrote
the following morning in her diary.
He said the dress was almost as magnificent as
the woman who would be wearing it. By the time we reached home, there was
nothing Millicent could say that would keep him from agreeing to my every
request.

Millicent did not mention my absence. Indeed she
seemed quite cordial at dinner. I was pleased by this. If being strong-- willed
wins her respect, I am quite up to the task. I think she knows this now. I
think that perhaps, as time goes by, we may even become friends.

On the
afternoon of Lord Gance's dinner party, an early winter storm covered the city
with a wet, heavy snow. Mina, who

decided to lie down and rest for the afternoon, had sent Laura to
get her dress. Though the girl had been given instructions to return in a cab
to protect the package, Millicent brought the dress up with its brown wrapper
soggy, its hem coated with snow.

"The
clumsy thing dropped it just as she was coming in the door," Millicent
complained. "That's what happens when you let the

seamstress work until the
last minute. You've nothing else . . ."

Mina sat up in bed, her back rigid, her expression determined.
"Then I shall have to wear it as it is." Millicent's disapproval
made her smile and add sweetly, "Aunt Millicent, we live near our host.
So do a number of his expected guests. There will be many damp hems around his
table tonight."

"You
should look perfect."

"And we
should be rude because I won't? Millicent, dear, listen to me. We both love
Jonathan. We both want what is best for

him. But you must trust him
more, and trust the choice he made when he chose me."

Millicent
looked at her, her stern expression dulled with shock. Mina had never spoken to
her so frankly before, and Millicent

responded with honesty of her
own. "Everything changed so suddenly," she said.

"Of
course it did, but Jonathan can handle the responsibility. And, Millicent, so
can I. Now, please help me dress. I want to make

the best possible first
impression on our neighbors."

While the
dress lay over a chair near the fire so the hem could dry, Mina piled her hair
high on her head and curled it in loose

ringlets, lightly powdered her face and shoulders, and colored her
lips in the careful manner that made it seem she had done nothing to them at
all.

Jonathan
arrived just after she'd finished. He had little time and quickly changed into
his frock coat with its wide silk-faced lapels,

matching vest and small checked trousers. "You're always so
calm," he commented as he tried to knot the new wider tie he'd purchased,
wincing at the white polka dots on it. "This tie may be the fashion but I
feel like a fool."

"You
look splendid," Mina said.

He managed
to finish without her help, then held her at arm's length to look at her.
"So do you," he said. "So serene and so beautiful.

And that green velvet,
whatever made you pick that color?"

"The
seamstress suggested it. When she held it up to me, I understood why." She
took his arm. "It is a lovely night for a walk, Mr.

Harker."

Cased candles lined the cobblestone
drive from Lord Gance's estate to the street. As Mina approached the wide stone
steps leading to the doors, she saw a statue beside them, a tiny brass satyr
peeking out at her from behind a pair of rust-and-gold chrysanthemum bushes,
their last blooms bright against the snow-covered ground. The statue seemed so
out of place amid the classical gardens and the tall stone portico in a Greek
design. Mina reminded herself that the satyr was a Greek myth, one that might
have stemmed from the passion buried in the most civilized man. Had she been
alone, she might have crouched for a closer look at the little statue. Now she
only gripped Jonathan's arm and lifted her skirts as they started up the
stairs.

Winnie
waited in the foyer for them, and judging from how warm her hands were, Mina
assumed she had been there for some time.

Her dress was pale blue satin and lace, a beautiful compliment to
her rose complexion and dark curly hair. Tonight, with her hair carefully
pinned up, a bit of rouge on her cheeks and lips, she was no longer the
determined nurse with the plain, generous face, but a woman of almost dramatic
beauty.

Mr. Beason was exactly what Mina had expected. Shorter than his
wife and somewhat stout, he had a receding hairline and wore thick glasses
both of which made him seem far older than her as well. After the men were
introduced, Mina followed Winnie into the music room, where women were using
the huge mirror above the spinet as a place to rearrange their hair and make
final adjustments to their gowns.

"You
look lovely tonight," Winnie said. "And much happier, too."

"I am. I believe Millicent and I are on our way to some
agreement on how to live together. I found our common ground." "Your
husband?"

"Exactly. We both agree that we love him so," Mina said
seriously. Then, seeing Winnie's amused expression, she laughed. As she adjusted
her hair in the mirror, pinning up a stray lock that had fallen on the windy
walk, she asked, "How long have you been married, Winnie?"

"Eleven years. I was just eighteen when we married." "And
you feel as attached to him now as before?" "More. Before, I loved
him. Now I also admire him. And now, my infatuated bride, I will take you
upstairs."

As Mina climbed the broad steps to
the second-floor ballroom, she felt as if she had been in this house before.
The scent of it-a blend of polishing oil, aged wood and cigar-could have
belonged to any old house, but there was another smell as well, of musk or incense
or some exotic Indian tea. The pattern in the oriental carpeting of the stairs
also seemed familiar, and the violin music-yes, she had heard the same piece
played just as beautifully sometime in a distant past.

Her mind
often played these tricks on her, but never so strongly before. And with the
strange memories came another, darker,

feeling, one so full of
despair that she gripped the rail, certain she was about to fall.

Jonathan,
who had been waiting for her at the top, noticed her falter and rushed toward
her, but she motioned him back. "I tripped,"

she said, "But I caught
myself in time."

Winnie
glanced at her. "Are you all right?" she whispered.

"Almost. Do you know the history of this house?" "The
house is over a hundred years old. Byron himself once held a masked ball here.
Why do you ask?" "Just curious," Mina replied lightly.
"It's such a beautiful place, but I have a feeling that some great tragedy
happened here."

"Lord
Gance's mother died in a fall down these stairs. Perhaps you sense that. I have
a friend who often feels events long after

they happened. She believes
that places have memories, just like people."

"Well,
this one's are terrible." Mina walked more quickly up the stairs, then
moved to Jonathan's side, taking his hand as they

walked through the doors and
into the brilliantly lit ballroom.

Just inside,
she paused and turned to say something to Winnie. As she did, she noticed a man
coming in behind them, his skin and

hair so pale in the dark outer hallway. Mina recognized him as the
man she had seen entering Jonathan's firm, the one who had reminded her so
much of Dracula. She stared at his face, and as he returned her gaze, his eyes
caught the light, glowing silver for an instant. It wasn't possible! They had
left this all behind!

As she stood, frozen by the sight of
him, something wet touched her hand. She stifled a cry and looked down at a
massive wolfhound with a gold link collar around its neck. Its eyes, nearly
the same shade of pale gray as its owner's, looked up at her expectantly.