Page 19 of Now Comes the Mist

“And by nice little position, you mean you are running the entire branch of physicians dealing with rare diseases all over the world,” Dr. Seward adds, and I favor him with a glowing look, touched by his eagerness to boast about his friend. “He will never tell you ladies, but he is a respected leader in many fields, especially that one.”

“How impressive,” Mamma says. “You must know about all sorts of conditions, Dr. Van Helsing. For example, diseases of the heart?”

“Ah, for that, I concede to my boy Jack,” the physician says modestly. “I myself focus primarily on the blood, in which many contagions can be found. But I beg your pardon. This is not a pleasant conversation for a dinner with two such lovely ladies.”

I laugh. “My father was not a medical man, sir, but he was interested in the field, and strange and grotesque topics were a matter of course at our table while he lived. I am certain I know more about lung conditions or how to prevent biliary upset than any young lady should.”

Dr. Van Helsing beams. “Miss Westenra, your intelligence and charm do not surprise me, as I had heard much about them before I met you,” he says, with a knowing glance at Dr. Seward. The young man blushes and quickly engages Mamma in conversation.

“What a fascinating life you have led, full of travel and experience,” I say wistfully.

“I have been most fortunate,” the physician agrees. “If the Van Helsings had not adopted me, I would never have been afforded such opportunities.”

“I am hungry to see the world as you have, though it is unlikely that I ever will.”

“You may have a chance.” Smiling, he looks again at Dr. Seward, who is still talking to Mamma, and then back at me. “My late wife, Eleanor, used to say I was her ticket to the world. We had no children, and I took her with me to every medical conference and lecture.”

“Was she so well educated?” I ask, surprised and envious.

He laughs. “She was the most supportive of wives, but my line of work was not for her! During my lectures, she would explore or happily spend the whole day lost in a book.” A touch of melancholy softens the lines of his face, making it rather handsome.

“We need not speak of her if it is too painful,” I say gently.

“On the contrary. I am glad to speak of her, for I am not often able to do so,” Dr. Van Helsing says as the servants place the main course before us: delicate slices of roast beef with root vegetables. “In fact, she is the reason I became interested in folklore and superstition, for everywhere we went, she would learn all she could about the local customs.”

“I, too, am fascinated by folklore. I have read everything in my father’s library on traditions surrounding death.” As soon as the words slip out, I wish I could take them back.

But the doctor seems intrigued, not repulsed. “You, Miss Lucy, a student of death?”

“We have had much loss in our family, and seeking knowledge comforted me,” I explain. He gives me a look of fatherly approval so like Papa’s that I surge on. “I enjoy reading of how cultures across the world perceive death and immortality, whether as a gift or a curse.”

“And what is your opinion?”

I hesitate. “To have my loved ones go on and the world continue as though I had never existed is a chill I cannot shake. I think, sir,thatis the true curse. Mortality.”

The doctor studies me, and as adept as I am at reading the thoughts of men, I cannot discern anything in his sharp, clever eyes. “I see your reasoning. But you have many long and happy years ahead of you, I think, and need not worry about such things.”

I make myself give a light, careless laugh. “Of course. These are the mere musings of a sleepless mind. Or rather, a sleepwalking one. An inherited family affliction,” I add, seeing his interest. “My father sleepwalked, as didhisfather and his grandmother, Van.”

“That is an unusual name.”

“She was an unusual woman. In English society, at least.” His eyes follow my gaze to the jade ring on my finger. “She became Vanessa before her foot even touched English soil.”

Dr. Van Helsing nods with perfect understanding. “When my adoptive parents took us in, my mother urged me to give up my native language at once. Some of us must sacrifice a great deal, must we not? Names, tongues, and roots. I have colleagues who are still perplexed by my existence, even though I turned my back on my heritage and worked harder than any of them.”

“Above reproach at all times,” I say softly, echoing Papa’s words.

“Just so, Miss Lucy.” His solemnity lifts when Mamma asks him a question, bringing him into her conversation with Dr. Seward, and soon they are all talking in animated voices.

But our conversation weighs upon me, as does his expectation that I will choose Jack for my husband. Once again, it occurs to me that I will have to decide soon. Even if Arthur cannot muster the courage to propose, I doubt Dr. Seward or even Quincey Morris would hesitate.

I feel Dr. Seward looking at me again, but I keep my gaze lowered, knowing that my long lashes are put to best effect that way. I know that I appear beautiful and demure to him, but inside, I am boiling with frustration at Arthur. It is my fate to be tied to a man, an inevitable evil. Even Dr. Van Helsing, who had listened to me with respect, had suggested thatI would never travel unless my husband took me, as he had generously done for his own wife.

If I must belong to someone, I would rather it be Arthur than any other man, but it is not my choice to make, and many months have passed without him even alluding to the topic again.Perhaps, I think bitterly,I ought to accept someone else to show him that I will not wait forever.

But as soon as the thought crosses my mind, I recoil at the sorrow I know I would cause him. And now that I have seen him laugh, I do not want him to do anything else. Of the two of us, I am stronger and bolder. Perhaps all he needs is a nudge.

I lift my hand and whisper my instructions to a servant, still watched by Dr. Seward.

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