Though I had suspected my bride of being an angel before, she now seemed to me a goddess. I’d insisted on buying her a gown, paying for both her and Mrs. Moyle to travel by train to London and consult a modiste. Mina was captivated by the city that was the setting in so many of the novels she’d read, and I adjusted our honeymoon plans so that we might spend several weeks there before traveling on to Paris and finally Rome for the winter months. Having led the life of a hermit, I was quite as excited as she was. Many of the volumes in my library had once belonged to Oxford or Cambridge scholars, and I planned visits to both of these schools before we left England.
I have no talent for describing ladies’ fashions, but suffice it to say, there were seed pearls and lace and petticoats, layer upon layer. A woman from the village had arranged Mina’s fiery locks in a soft pile of curls atop her head.
Jack brought her to me, and the priest did before God what we had done already before the spirits of Roche Rock, and I felt no more boundto her now than I had in that moment. But I was happy for her sake that the village of Roche, even if all didn’t smile on us, would accept us as legally, properly wedded. As for me, this moment was a symbol and celebration of my own miraculous transmutation, worked not by potions or elixirs, by learned men or dusty volumes, but by the love of a maiden for a monster.
When the priest pronounced her my wife, a flutter of wings drew our gazes to the Penrose crosses. A magpie had landed on each, watching us a moment with dark eyes before flitting away. Mina beamed, tears pooling, and murmured, “Two for joy.”
We all then walked across to the tearoom, where we had the dining room to ourselves for a late-morning wedding breakfast hosted by Mrs. Moyle. When the cold meats, cheeses, scones, clotted cream, and jam had been eaten, and my bride had embraced everyone, I was at last permitted to take her home with me.
It was a golden October day, a nip in the air, but warm enough in the sun. Too fine for anyone but a vampire to spend inside a drafty medieval chapel. So I carried cushions, a rug, and a bottle of champagne up to the battlements while my wife made tea.
Once she’d settled like Venus upon a cloud, we sipped our tea and remarked politely on the wedding and the breakfast while my desire to touch her grew to a fever pitch. But we’d agreed to this small ritual, which I knew made her feel close to her mother, and I wasn’t about to deny her.
When at last we’d drunk the pot, she removed the lid, narrowed her eyes, and peered inside. Her brow furrowed as she turned it this way and that, and finally she laughed. “I’ve no idea. Perhaps we should consult Mrs. Rochester.”
“Here,” I said, reaching for it. As I looked through the opening, a smile spread over my face.
“What?” she said, excited. “Tell me!”
“I believe these refer to your wedding gifts, Mrs. Tregarrick.”
“Moregifts, Harker!” Her green eyes danced, her charmingly freckled countenance lovelier than ever in her happiness. “Well, what are they?”
Soberly, I handed the teapot back to her. “I expect you to at leasttry. Tell me what you see.”
She let out a disgruntled sigh and stared back through the opening. “A crown, maybe, just under the handle? And now I’m thinking that’s a house on the bottom. Yes, definitely a house.”
“First the crown,” I said. “I have donated a great deal of money to Church of England charities with the express view of achieving knighthood so that you may be styled Lady Tregarrick.”
Her eyes rounded. “Harker!” She let out another ripple of laughter. “But I have everything I need to be happy righthere.”
“I’m glad to hear it, but it mademehappy to do it. Of course there are no guarantees, but as we’ve seen, the leaves are never wrong.”
With a wincing smile, she said, “Was it truly agreatdeal of money?”
“It was, but we have a great deal more than we need.”
Her brows lifted. “I’m almost afraid to ask about the house!”
“Little mystery there, my love. This chapel will be cozy enough for a while, but it’s no place to raise a family. After our engagement was announced, I hired an architect to design a new house. Once the design is complete and we are on our honeymoon, Jack will be put in charge of overseeing the construction.”
“Jack!” Her eyes filled with tears again, and from her confectionary cloud, she produced a handkerchief.
Mr. Hilliard had made sure Jack didn’t lose his job over his missed shifts, but I had told my bride’s brother that there was no need for him to return to the clay pits unless he wished to. That I would be happy to put him to work on the estate, to send him to school, or to send him abroad—as long as he gave up drinking, because it was breaking his sister’s heart. (He informed me that he hadn’t drunk a drop since the night he shot me.) While he had yet to make up his mind, he had agreed to help us with the construction while he considered.
One sparkling tear avoided the handkerchief and slid down Mina’s cheek, and I moved closer. Laughing, I wiped it away and said, “A poor bridegroomImake. Half the things I say to you these days make you cry.”
“How can I not when I’m so happy?” Her voice was creaky with emotion. “And whatever am I to giveyou?”
I shook my head and put a finger to her lips. “You have taken away my loneliness and given me the world. Everything I have given you is meaningless in comparison.”
She took hold of my hand and held it in her lap. “There is something else I wish to give you now. I would have already, the night we were truly wed, had it been possible. And all the nights since then, had we been able to spend them together.”
My heart pounded, and I felt the fire in my blood. My voice deepened as I said, “That is a gift I will happily accept.”
She frowned, and in a quiet voice she said, “I worry ... will it be as ... as pleasurable ...” Her cheeks went red under the autumn sunshine. “I mean, now that you no longer need ...”
I raised an eyebrow. “Now that I no longer need worry I might lose control and end your life?”
