Chapter 2
It was only five o’clock, yet dusk was already starting to settle over the cobbled streets as lamplighters moved from pole to pole, a warm glow spilling through the dim light while evening took hold of the city.
“See you soon, Miss Murray!”
Mina glanced back toward the school and caught sight of one of her young students waving as he bounded down the front steps.
“See you soon, Thomas,” she called back with a smile. But as she turned away, her heart sank at the lie. She was leaving for Transylvania tomorrow, and it was unlikely that she’d see Thomas—or any of her students—again.
As Mina weaved through the city, the scent of chimney smoke heavy in the air, she tried to think of the changes ahead as something exciting—the start of a new adventure. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel it was the end of something more than it was the beginning of something else.
All the time and care she’d put into her studies, working countless hours through her school years, with the goal of becoming a teacher.
All the time and care she’d put into her students, getting to know them and their individual ways of learning, their sharp minds and joyous laughter.
All that time, only to spend a mere four years in her role before it had all come to an end.
In the months since that day in May, she’d begun to mourn the loss of this life and the impact she could be making on her students if she were staying in London—time that would now be spent at a castle in the mountains of Transylvania.
Her gut twisted at the thought of being locked away with nothing to bide her time but attending to her wifely duties.
She took a deep breath of the smog-laced air, imagining instead the crisp mountain air, and reminded herself that there was much she didn’t know about Castle Dracula—and that ignorance might yet offer opportunity.
Perhaps there were children in the castle she could educate, the sons and daughters of the servants.
But would they speak English fluently enough for such lessons to be of use?
It seemed unlikely. She supposed she would be expected to learn Romanian—she’d managed French in her schooling years, but learning a language was one thing, and having enough command of it to teach was quite another.
As she turned onto her street, the familiar red-bricked townhouses loomed shoulder to shoulder, their narrow windows gazing down at her like eyes, watching as she made her way home for the last time.
A few doors ahead, Lucy stepped out of her townhouse with a cloak overtop of a cornflower blue evening gown, her golden hair pinned up elegantly like a halo around her face.
“There you are!” Lucy said, joy brightening her face as she walked down the handful of steps to the pavement. “How was your last day?”
Mina exhaled, trying her best to smile as she moved out of the way of a passing pedestrian. “Bittersweet.”
Lucy frowned, an uncommon expression for her. “Yes, I’ll bet. I know you care deeply for those children,” she said, “but they’ll be alright.” Then, with a glint of amusement in her voice, she said, “It’s me you should fret over. Your students will get another teacher, but I won’t get another Mina.”
Mina laughed, rolling her eyes at Lucy’s melodrama. “You will be perfectly fine, my dear.”
Hooves clacked against the cobblestone as a carriage passed by, sending a smattering of fallen leaves swirling around their ankles.
“I sincerely doubt that,” Lucy replied. “Oh! Have I told you I am to see Arthur this evening?” She reached out, grasping onto Mina’s arm enthusiastically.
“You did,” Mina said with a smirk. “In fact, it’s all you’ve been talking about for days.”
Lucy laughed, the sound light and airy despite the autumn gloom surrounding them.
“Well, you can hardly blame me. He’s been away for ages.
” A bashful smile tugged at her lips as she fidgeted with the lace cuff at her sleeve, likely lost in thoughts of their time together.
After a moment of contemplation, she said, “I do hope he missed me.”
“How could anyone not?” Mina said, a quiet dread settling about her shoulders like a heavy shawl.
In the years she and Lucy had known each other, they’d scarcely been apart for more than a week or two—yet that would be another thing to change tomorrow.
Mina forced a smile to her face and pushed away her inner turmoil.
“I wonder if tonight will be the night he proposes.”
“Oh, don’t tease me!” Lucy said, placing a hand over her heart. “Let us say no more of it. If I dwell on the subject, I shall be convinced he does not feel as I do.”
“Not feel as you do?” Mina shot her a look of humorous reproach. “Has it not been less than a month since you made his acquaintance?”
“Yes, but a month is plenty of time to know,” Lucy said dreamily.
“To know?” Mina asked, lifting a brow in question.
“To know that one is in love.” Mina scoffed, yet Lucy carried on.
“Oh, you just haven’t met your someone yet, darling.
But when you do, you’ll understand. You’ll be swept off your feet so swiftly that you shall hardly know what has befallen you.
” They came to a stop in front of Mina’s townhouse, the residence which would soon stand empty once her aunt returned to Yorkshire.
Lamplight spilled through the front window, illuminating the damp leaves littering the front step.
“Shall I suppose this feeling will overtake me when I meet the Count?” A sudden gust of wind tugged at her cloak, sending goosebumps along her skin.
Lucy paused, pity filling her eyes. “I’m sorry, dearest. I hadn’t—”
“No, no,” Mina said. “I speak only in jest.” She looked out over the street—how many times had she complained about the gloomy streets of London?
The grey skies and the smog? Yet as she stood there now with the knowledge that this was her last evening here, melancholy began to creep in.
She would miss it all. “I’m happy for you, Lucy.
Truly. You deserve someone wonderful, and I hope Arthur is just that. ”
“You deserve someone wonderful, too,” Lucy said, her bright eyes filling with tears now.
“Enough of that,” Mina said with a smile. “You don’t wish to have reddened eyes when you see Arthur, do you?”
Lucy sniffled. “No.”
“It’ll all work out for the best,” Mina said, though the words were as much for her as they were for Lucy. “No sense fretting about it.”
They said their goodbyes then, Lucy returning to her own home to finish preparing for her reunion with Arthur.
As Mina stepped inside her townhouse, a knot of unease twisted in her stomach.
There was no time to linger on it, for Aunt Emily sat in the front room, stitching a hole in a well-worn blouse, the single lamp casting a warm glow about the room.
To Mina’s surprise, her aunt had arrived at the end of summer, as though for one of her usual visits.
She’d already stayed longer than anticipated to see Mina off.
“There you are,” her aunt said. “Have you finished your packing?”
“Mostly,” Mina said. “Although I’m not entirely sure my clothes will be warm enough for the winters of the Carpathians.”
“It’ll snow quite a bit, I imagine,” Aunt Emily answered. Her tone was flat, almost disinterested, and her eyes were fixed on the garment before her.
“I suppose you can keep my summer things,” Mina said, conjuring a smile to her lips. But her aunt didn’t return the smile, didn’t acknowledge the comment at all. “You want me to do this,” Mina said, her voice gentle, “don’t you?”
Her aunt’s gaze met hers, and Mina searched her face for reassurance, for a certainty that she might grasp onto to quiet her own wavering resolve. But no such comfort appeared, and doubt settled heavier than before.
“It’s not a matter of what I want,” Aunt Emily said, returning her attention to her sewing. “Nor a matter of what you want. Your father made the agreement, and so we must follow through.”
Mina nodded, swallowing the tightness building in her throat. “Of course.” This was simply the way of things. A dutiful woman did what needed to be done, regardless of how she felt about it. But as she went to turn away, she found herself asking, “Do you know much about him? The Count, I mean.”
Her aunt took a deep breath, not lifting her gaze. “Not particularly. He’s a nobleman from a family of great power. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
Mina smiled softly. “I suppose so.”
She turned down the short hallway, her aunt’s words swirling through her mind as she walked toward the staircase.
At first, she’d taken her aunt’s mention of the Count’s power and status as a comfort—that the life laid out before her was one of such possibility, it would be foolish to refuse.
But then another possibility took shape in her mind.
A man from such a lineage was not accustomed to being denied anything he desired.
If he meant to uphold the agreement with her father, then her own feelings were irrelevant—the marriage would proceed regardless.
Mina’s stomach twisted at the thought of who this man could be.
She knew nothing of his appearance, his temperament, his age.
Did he speak English? Would they be able to communicate?
She had to assume they would if her father had managed such a deal as this, but the thought of leaving for Transylvania in the morning felt oddly like going off to the gallows—perhaps worse.
At least if her destination were the gallows, she would know the fate that awaited her.
As she began up the staircase, her aunt’s voice cut through the quiet. “Mina?”
“Yes?” Mina leaned over the banister, finding her aunt’s eyes already fixed on her. There was a hint of something heavy behind her gaze, though Mina couldn’t interpret the expression.
“Be sure to turn in early tonight,” Aunt Emily said, clearing her throat. “You’ll need your rest.”