Mina Part 9

"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 b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. More likely, he actually possessed some n.o.ble 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.""d.a.m.n 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.

PART THREE: GANCE

TEN

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 bra.s.s 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 cla.s.sical 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 pa.s.sion 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 a.s.sumed 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 gla.s.ses 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 ma.s.sive 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.The spell which had seemed almost deliberately cast, was broken. Gance took her hand. "I see the coincidence has made quite an impression," he said after they'd been introduced.

"Coincidence, Lord Gance?" For a moment she wondered if he had read her mind.

"You needn't be so polite, Mina dear," Winnie said as she moved beside her.

"The velvet," Mina said, realizing that they wore the same shade and texture in coat and gown.

"I think the color looks far better on you than it does on me, Mrs. Harker," Gance said. "Under the circ.u.mstances, my guests will understand if I absent myself for a little while."

"It's hardly necessary, Lord Gance," Mina protested. "As you noted, it's only a coincidence."

He shook his head. "In my house there are no coincidences, Mrs. Harker. Later, you must dance with me." He left her, followed by the dog, then the butler as he went out the doors.

"How strange," Mina commented to Jonathan. As she did, she noted that those nearest them had stopped speaking and were looking at her curiously. Winnie moved close to the pair, dragging them into the nearest group, introducing them both then adding that they were recently married on the Continent. As the group began asking the couple the usual questions, Winnie excused herself and moved to a second group then a third. Sometime later, Mina noticed her standing alone at the window. She asked Jonathan to get her a gla.s.s of eggnog and joined Winnie there.

"Would you care to explain what's happened here?" Mina asked.

"This is Lord Gance's holiday party. In the past, he has often invited his mistress and they have always worn matching colors.

Under the circ.u.mstances, he had to change. Otherwise, I suppose he would have had to make some announcement. It would have been highly amusing, but also a terrible embarra.s.sment for both you and your husband."

"And for Lord Gance."

Winnie laughed. "Dear Lord, no! He'd revel in it." She waved toward the elaborate buffet and out the window at the extensive gardens glowing with their hanging Chinese lanterns, at the ice sculptures on the terrace below. "He has something suitable to wear, Mina. Don't doubt it. Here comes your husband with the eggnog. Be careful of your later gla.s.ses. I think the brandy content increases as the night wears on."

After Jonathan handed Mina her gla.s.s, Winnie pointed across the room. "Now that I have you both together, come and meet the Andersens. They live nearly across from you at number forty-nine and have been anxious to meet you. Afterwards, perhaps we should simply move to the next address and the next until we've covered everyone." Mina laughed. Jonathan merely smiled and held his wife's arm somewhat more tightly than necessary. Mina knew he was not afraid of losing her to some group, but simply holding on to her for her support. She felt far more at ease in this gathering than he did, interested rather than intimidated, as he was, by each new arrival. Poor Jonathan! she thought and gave him frequent, encouraging smiles.

Gance had intended to hold the party in the first-floor solarium. If the weather had been as fine as earlier in the week, he would have ordered the doors opened and let the party spill into the terrace and garden. The sudden freeze had changed all that, and preparations had shifted to the second-floor ballroom.

A string quartet had been hired to provide the entertainment for his sixty guests. The house staff had done the rest. They had labored with remarkable efficiency, without a word of complaint because, though Gance's reputation was tarnished in polite society, his staff adored him. The feeling was mutual. Abandoned by his self-absorbed parents, Gance had been raised by the family retainers. As a result, he did not believe in caste. He wished he could invite his servants to these socials, for he frequently took his meals in the kitchen with them and found their banter to be far more interesting than the strained amenities at these formal affairs.

In keeping with Gance's mode of entertaining, the dinner would be served buffet style. In the meantime a selection of cheeses, hot rum and cider, and cold eggnog were being served at a table close to the fire. For those less traditional, a butler carried gla.s.ses of champagne.

While Gance was changing, the music had begun. Now he stood in the doorway, watching his guests talk and dance. This was the way the house was meant to be-filled with people and laughter. The more socials he held in the mansion, the more he seemed to exorcize the tragedies of its past.

"David, what is the piece being played?" he asked his butler.

"Part of Scheherazade by Rimsky-Korsakov, sir.""Ah!" Gance paused, listened a moment then said, "Order the candles lit and the gaslights turned down."

He moved through the room, stopping often to talk with his guests, circling ever closer to Mina. He waited until Jonathan was with her before approaching them both. "I came to collect my dance," he said to Mina, then turned to Jonathan. "With your permission, of course."

Jonathan watched them walk to the center of the floor. His lips were affably upturned. Only his eyes revealed his concern.

"Emory?" Winnie asked, glancing from Jonathan to Mina. He nodded. Without a word, Winnie drew Jonathan onto the dance floor, placing her hand on Jonathan's shoulder just as Mina and Gance swept by.

d.a.m.n that woman! She behaves like a venomous ex-lover, Gance thought as the pair stayed just within hearing distance. He had hoped to be charming, to make an impression, and instead found himself nodding politely to Mina's husband. "I hear you were married in Hungary," he said to Mina.

"Yes. Jonathan was on a business trip. He fell ill. He had no family to go to him, so I did. We were married in Budapest."

"You visited that country again, didn't you?"

"Business. Jonathan thought I might like to go along since I did not get to tour the country properly the first time."

"Did you, the second time?"

"No."

"One of your group died, didn't he? Quincey Morris, the American?"

"Where did you hear about that?" Mina asked, astonished by his knowledge.

"I handled some of Lord G.o.dalming's affairs in his absence. He later wired that he had to go to America. Poor Arthur. First a fiancee, then a friend. Mr. Morris became ill, I take it?"

Mina nodded.

"It is a lovely country, though. I've been there a number of times."

"Do you speak Hungarian?" Mina asked, thinking of the book she intended to show him.

"Enough to get by. I have no great skill with languages. Fortunately, others do." The music stopped. He held her at arm's length for a moment, "I do believe the color looks better on you than me. I promise never to wear that green in your presence again.

Unless you request it, of course."

She knew what he implied, but he had done it so skillfully that the blush that colored her cheeks seemed only to reveal the nature of the gossip she had heard. When the music started again, she danced with her husband, resting her head on his shoulder so she would not have to speak at all.

Dinner was served a quarter hour later. Huge silver trays of sliced roast beef were surrounded by pieces of pudding. Whole salmon baked in a pastry crust followed, and the main dishes gave way to glazed carrots, potatoes, creamed leeks, pickled vegetables, breads, cold meats and a selection of sweets.

When the guests had all been served and were seated at the tables scattered around the edge of the hall, Gance clapped his hands.

Servants brought in three slender urns, each half the height of a man, then filled them with pitchers of oil. One burned red, the other two bright orange. The gaslights were turned down even further, until all the light in the hall seemed centered in the urns.

Gance clapped again and five men came into the hall. Each was dressed in a white cotton turban and loose trousers. Their swarthy skin looked even darker against the flowing white fabrics. Three carried drums and stood beside the oil burners. The others carried stringed instruments. Someone standing close to Mina whispered to a companion that they were a tanbur and a lute.