Page 35 of Wynter's Bite

Chapter Fifteen

Bethany’s eyes drifted open just as the carriage came to a halt. Where were they stopping this time? Her head swam as she struggled to sit up. Her parents had kept her in a drugged haze for this journey which was so long that she had no idea how many days had passed. She wished she knew where they were taking her, but every time she presumed to ask, her father would order a footman to hold her down while he would force more of that vile medicine down her throat.

Peering out the carriage window, Bethany gasped as she saw that they’d stopped in front of a massive red brick structure, redolent with gothic arches topped with gargoyles, and surrounded by wrought iron fencing.

The sun was so bright it hurt her eyes, which had grown sensitive from her long hours of sleeping in the carriage. Usually they’d stopped at night to rest the horses and sleep at an inn. This was no inn.

Her mother tapped her shoulder. “Come along,” she said in a faraway voice.

A footman handed Bethany out and she noticed that her knee no longer pained her. Not that it mattered anymore. This place did not look like there would be much dancing.

Her father had already marched up to the entrance where three men met him. One man spoke with her father in hushed, yet animated tones, darting Bethany lingering glances which made her increasingly uncomfortable. The other two stood in stony silence with their arms folded like dour sentries.

As her mother led her up the walk, one man adjusted his spectacles, smoothed his brown tweed overcoat and gave her a look that was nothing short of patronizing.

“Miss Mead,” he said with a sharp-toothed smile. “I’m Doctor Keene. Your father tells me that you believe in vampires.”

She shook her head. “I do not. There was a mistake.”

“Now, now.” His smile grew more sickly sweet. “I can always tell when someone lies. It’s a gift of mine. But no matter, we’ll have plenty of time to get to the bottom of this delusion. Come, let me show you your room.”

Doctor... room... delusion. Bethany gasped as she realized where they were. She whirled to face her parents in stunned outrage. “You’ve had me committed to an asylum?”

Her father nodded curtly. “I cannot have a madwoman about while I salvage my reputation and political career.”

Her mother squeezed her hand. “You’re ill, my dear. Here you can get well.”

“No!” Bethany wrenched away from her grip. “I am not mad!”

Cecily shook her head. “Darling, you imagined a courtship and marriage proposal that never happened.”

“It did happen!” Bethany would hold her tongue about Justus being a vampire, but she refused to deny their love. Her breath came in sharp pants as she fought to hold back tears of despair. “Something must have happened to Lord de Wynter. Maybe Lord Tench did something to keep him away!”

Her father heaved a theatrical sigh and turned to Doctor Keene. “You see what I have been subjected to.”

“Oh yes.” The doctor nodded solemnly. “A classic case of hysteria combined with a desire so consuming that it has become a fantasy. And you say your mother suffered from a similar condition?”

“Yes,” Lord Wiltshire said. “Ever since her infant daughter died only two weeks after she was born. Mother then claimed she could speak to angels, and Father had to send her here. I assume it is a hereditary condition.”

“As a matter of fact, it is indeed. Usually passed through the female line.” Doctor Keene smoothed his overcoat once more. “I wish we had time to discuss it in further detail. Do you truly have to leave so soon?”

“We must. I have a meeting with my solicitor in London.” Father turned and walked back to the carriage. “Goodbye, daughter,” he said over his shoulder.

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