Mina (21 page)

and was only now beginning to
decay. The rings still circled their fingers; scraps of lace and satin still
clung to their bodies.

So beautiful
they had been once, Van Helsing thought, like his wife in all the beauty of her
youth. Now the monsters were dead,

and if anything remained, it
could only be their memory.

He slept in
one of the upstairs rooms with a blessed host beside him. His dreams were
unchanged save that they had become less

vivid, perhaps because of his
exhaustion after the journey.

Before he started back to Galati, he
blessed the halls in the name of God and those who had been destroyed by the
creatures who had lived here. He recited each name slowly in a sort of litany
to the dead.” . . . Miriam Sebescue ... Marie Sebescue ...

Zoltan Somogyi ... Henry
Watts . . . Jacques Munroe . . ."

On and on.
Names, all names to him until the last, when finally, after so many years of
seeking respite from his sorrow through

revenge, he was able to cry,
"Maria Van Helsing."

She had loved to travel, marveled at
the mountains, the wonder of all these exotic, primitive places. Her mind had
been as quick as his, as curious. In his ignorance, he had brought her to the
Carpathians, into the shadow of these cursed walls. The villagers had searched
for her. When he was finally led to her body, the natives had already done what
was necessary to see that she did not rise.

The portrait artist had finished his
work in two weeks. Jonathan's birthday party was a few days later, and Mina
could not wait for a reply to her letters before making her move. Actually,
she doubted her letters had ever been received, and so she made a second trip
to London. There, she spent most of her day in Bloomsbury searching for the
Romanian family.

Owners of
the Huntley Street shops could tell her little. Some recalled the bookstore,
but no one could remember exactly where

it had been. As to the old
Romanian, one elderly woman remembered him fondly but could only say that he
had not lived in

Bloomsbury.

She returned
on the evening train, stopping at the studio to pick up Millicent's photograph
and Jonathan's gift. "Where is the

portrait?" Millicent
asked as soon as Mina returned from London.

"I left
it at Winnie's. I was afraid to bring it home in case Jonathan was here. I've
asked the Beasons to come early so that it can

be hanging when the other
guests arrive. Do you think we should put it above the dining room
fireplace?"

"How is
it framed?"

"I've
brought a sample. Open the package."

Millicent
did. The worn gilt frame the drawing had originally been in had been replaced
with a square of polished cherry, richly

carved. Beneath it was the
old frame.

"I
wasn't certain if you'd like it," Mina said.

"It's
lovely."

Mina detected her thanks, her
confusion and the slight hint of reproach. She could lie and say that it had
been included in the price, but she did not wish to. Millicent had to get used
to their good fortune as she had done, or they would never get on together. "The
frame for Jonathan's picture is that shade, but the wood is much wider, the
carving more intricate. I think the tone will go well with the rose wood of
the mantel."

"I'll
have Laura wash the wall and rehang the old pictures."

"He'll
never suspect." She hugged the woman. It occurred to her that it was the
first time they had touched out of affection. "And

Aunt Millicent, I want you to
come to the party."

"But
the meal . , ."

"You
have planned it. You can start the roasts and mix the puddings, and Winnie
Beason's cook can finish. This is Jonathan's

birthday. These are our
closest friends in Exeter, not some formal gathering. And Jonathan will want
you there."

"I have
nothing to wear."

"You
will," Mina said firmly. "We'll see to that tomorrow." She
sensed Millicent about to protest and went on. "We are giving him

a present. You must be on hand for that. How will it look to have
his aunt, the one relative closest to him in the world, preparing the meal
instead of eating it? If Mr. Chapel were here, he'd tell you the same."

"I've
never worn anything that I didn't make myself." Mina was about to remind
the woman that they had no time for sewing when

Millicent added, "You'll
come and help me pick it out, won't you?"

Mina had never seen Millicent
flustered as she was in the shop. As she watched the woman studying each
garment to determine the strength of the fabric and the workmanship on each seam,
she began to comprehend the way her husband had been raised, and his
compulsive need for perfection in his work.

They finally chose a simple black
skirt and a steel-gray blouse with a trim of pale blue around the high neck and
cuffs. It was not a color Mina would have chosen, but it softened the lines of
Millicent's face, made her gray hair seem striking rather than drab. Mina was
going to suggest that they eat lunch in town but decided not to push her luck
with the woman. They ate in the kitchen instead, Mina fixing the potatoes
while Millicent sautéed their meat.

On the afternoon of the party, it
took the combined efforts of Mina and Winnie Beason's cook and butler to force
Millicent out of the kitchen. The effort, and Millicent's incredible anxiety,
gave Mina little time to think of her own nervousness. Though they had entertained
the firm's employees and their wives with a buffet less than a month before,
this was Mina's first dinner party as Jonathan's wife. It was deliberately
small, but still she wanted it to be perfect. Laura was busy in the kitchen,
but she had brought her sister, who, for a few pennies, scrubbed the hearths
in the parlor, the dining room, Jonathan's den and the water closet, and laid wood
and tinder in each.

The two
girls then swept, washed china and crystal, pressed the cloths and napkins and
laid out the table.

"So
much bother. It's only a meal," Millicent commented.

"Your
meal," Mina said, reminding her that the pork ragout and roast beef
cooking downstairs had been started by her. "Now,

let's get dressed."

Mina was
just finishing her hair when Jonathan arrived home. He joined her upstairs and
handed her a tiny box, elegantly

wrapped in lace and silk
ribbon. "It's your birthday not mine, Jonathan," she protested.

"And so I bought something for my wife. Open it." Inside
was a cameo surrounded by pale pink amethysts. The matching cameo earrings had
tiny amethyst teardrops falling from their bases. "I'm glad you wore the
cream gown," he said as he fastened the chain around her neck. "They
look as lovely together as I thought they would."

So he had
noticed the dresses. When Mina showed them to him, his mind had seemed to be
occupied elsewhere. She kissed him

lightly on the lips.
"You had better get dressed yourself," Mina said. "The guests
will be coming soon."

"No
little box for me?"

"Little!
Indeed!" She laughed and left, deciding to check on Millicent before going
downstairs.

As she expected, Millicent was more nervous than ever and with far
less cause. Her clothes looked beautiful. Her hair, carefully arranged by
Laura in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, was flattering and not at all
severe. She had a box open on her dressing table and was rummaging through it
trying to find some appropriate jewelry when, to Mina, the most obvious choice
was lying on top.

"The
blue brooch," Mina said, reaching for it.

"No!"
Responding to the panic in Millicent's tone, Mina jerked her hand back.
"It was ... Well, I couldn't."

Mina
believed she understood. Some treasures held too many memories to be displayed.
"The rose quartz brooch?" she

suggested.

Millicent
nodded. Mina pinned the quartz piece on and, with Millicent following close
behind her, checked to see that the guest

room was ready for Dr. Seward
before going downstairs.

If anyone
but Millicent had been with her, Mina would have suggested they both have a
sherry. Instead, they inspected the

kitchen, the dining table
laid out for nine, and sat in the parlor waiting for the first guests.

Jonathan had
just joined them when Winnie and Emory Beason arrived. The butler went out and
returned with a large gift—

wrapped package.

"A
surprise from me and from Aunt Millicent," Mina said, drawing the woman
close to her. "Open it, Jonathan."

The artist
had wrapped his work carefully in layers of tissue. Jonathan lifted out the
oval portrait and stared at it a moment. "It's

been so long," he
whispered, staring at his likeness; then he set it aside to reach for a second
package in the box.

"Is
there some mistake?" Millicent whispered.

Mina shook
her head. Jonathan unwrapped a second portrait, not of Mina but of Millicent.
The artist had softened her sharp

features, showing the girl she had once been. Like Jonathan's, the
portrait was lightly colored, with soft brown hair, a touch of color in the
cheeks.

"Do you
like them? I do," Jonathan said, handing hers to his aunt.

"Did I
really look like that?" Millicent asked.

"You
still do," Jonathan replied, kissing her forehead.

"We'll
hang them together," Mina said.

Laura was already clearing away the
pictures and bric-a-brac on the mantel, revealing two new hangers, not the one
Millicent had expected to see. As they walked into the parlor, Millicent
looked down at her younger self and began to weep softly. The others noticed
but said nothing. Jonathan's portrait was handed up. Then Millicent turned hers
around and raised it for Laura. As she did, her expression abruptly hardened.
Mina was about to ask what was wrong when the front bell distracted her.

Basil and
Amelia Lloyd entered. Basil Lloyd had been Jonathan's first employer in Exeter
and had referred him to Mr. Hawkins.

The two men
had rekindled their friendship in recent weeks, and it had seemed right to invite
them. Their presence also made it less likely that the others would begin to
talk of their strange journey. Mina certainly did not want to dwell on it, nor
did she think it was right for Jonathan to do so.

Lord
Godalming had persuaded Jack Seward to leave work for a few days and attend the
gathering. Now Seward came alone.

"Is Arthur coming?"
Jonathan asked.

"Arthur is not well. He sends his regrets but has some hope
of joining us later." "Perhaps for cake," Mina said and noticed
how Seward winced at the thought of the man's presence.

When introduced to each arrival, Millicent greeted them
mechanically. Mina would have understood nervousness, but not this frigid
detachment. Throughout the meal, Mina tried to draw her into the conversation,
but Millicent said little, smiling only once when a compliment on the meal was
directed to her.

They were midway through their cake
and cordials when Arthur arrived in the company of Lord Gance and a young
woman, Rose Lewis, who said little but sat close to Arthur with her hand
constantly on his arm, his shoulder or, most inappropriately since he still
had a black mourning arm band on his jacket, his lap.

Her coloring
and features were so much like Lucy's that Mina understood the attraction
Arthur must feel for her. As to his

behavior, he
seemed somewhat drunk. Seward, a teetotaler, must have found his excess
infuriating. Even now, in the presence of a woman whose laughter was
infectious, he sat in a wing chair and scowled, his expression perfectly mirrored
by Millicent, who was, if possible, even more scandalized.

Mina had intended to take the women
into the parlor. Minnie was anxious to tell Amelia Lloyd about the work of the
hospital. It also would be courteous to rescue Millicent from what she seemed
to view as a trying affair. However, Mina doubted she could separate Miss
Lewis from Arthur and place her in the company of strangers.

Jonathan suggested that Mina play
the piano. Since her talents were somewhat limited, she pulled out sheet music
and looked for her easiest pieces. "Let me," Rose suggested, then
sat down and began playing a piece by Stephen Foster. "I Dream of Jeannie
with the Light Brown Hair."

Before the others could start to
sing, she began in a voice so perfectly beautiful that no one dared to mar its
quality by adding his or her own. She followed it with the sad song "Come
Where My Love Lies Dreaming" and a slower piece from
HMS Pinafore,
"Sorry
Her Lot to Love Too Well."

Though the
last song was no more than romantic drivel, tears came to Arthur's eyes, and
rolled slowly down his cheeks. He did

not brush them away.

"Give
them something difficult, lovey." Gance called to her when she had
finished. She nodded, stood and began a cappella a

beautiful aria in a stunning
soprano.

"Aida,"
Gance said
when she had finished. "Miss Lewis is on the stage. She recently finished
an appearance in a revival of

Patience
at the Savoy
Theatre in London."