Page 36 of Wynter's Bite

Bethany flinched at such a cold parting, wondering what had happened to the man who used to dandle her on his knee and read to her.

Her mother was slightly warmer, studying Bethany’s face as if committing her visage to memory. “This is best for you now. Goodbye for now, my dearest. I promise I will write to you.”

Bethany hardly felt her mother’s stiff embrace as her body went numb with shock. “No!” she cried again as Lady Wiltshire made her way to the carriage. “You cannot leave me here!”

She lunged to follow, but her arms were seized and wrenched back by the men who’d come out with Doctor Keene.

The doctor tsked behind her. “You mustn’t become overwrought. You will be comfortable here. Morningside is the best asylum in all of England. Your parents must love you very much to bring you here.”

“Love me?” she repeated incredulously. “They just abandoned me here!”

“For your own good.” The doctor opened the carved oak door with an alarmingly large lock and gestured for the men to bring her inside. “You’ll come to like it. In fact, I’m certain you will make new friends by week’s end.”

Tears pricked the back of Bethany’s eyes as the guards hauled her up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway full of doors. The doctor opened one near the end and the men delivered her into a room that was cozy enough, yet the unadorned walls covered with yellow damask wallpaper gave her a chill for some inexplicable reason. The men deposited her onto a narrow tester bed and thankfully released her.

“This will be your room for your stay,” Doctor Keene said. “Your trunk will be brought in shortly and I will have tea sent up. Then you and I will have a nice little chat about this beau of yours.” With that, he and his assistants left the room.

The click of the lock echoed in her heart.

Bethany lay back on the bed and stared at the lemon colored ceiling, her mind racing with horror at what was happening. Was this all a terrible dream? She prayed to awaken in her own bed. For Justus to come calling as planned and ask for her hand.

Closing her eyes, she relived his kiss. How soft his lips felt upon hers. How tenderly he held her in his arms.

Too soon, the door of her new room opened and the men who’d dragged her up here brought in her trunk. The doctor followed, a maid at his side carrying a tea tray.

After the tea was poured, Doctor Keene regarded her over the rim of his cup as if she were an interesting species of insect. “Tell me about this vampire you thought you’d marry.”

“His name is Viscount de Wynter and of course I do not believe he is a vampire,” Bethany said, regretting more than ever voicing Justus’s secret. “I’d fallen from my horse that day and the laudanum made me say odd things.”

“I’ve never in my years encountered a patient who reacted quite that way from laudanum,” Doctor Keene eyed her through his spectacles. “But what of this marriage proposal you were to receive?”

“That was real,” she insisted, fingers playing about the edges of her tea cup.

“Your father said the man never paid you a single call.”

Frustration twisted her insides. She clearly couldn’t tell him why. “We danced and conversed at balls, suppers, and musicales,” she explained. “And he was going to call on me to ask my father for my hand, but something must have happened to delay him.” What had happened to Justus that night? The constant worry gnawed at her like a dog with a piece of rawhide. Had some sort of danger befallen him? Or had he simply changed his mind and decided not to shackle himself to a silly human girl?

Doctor Keene regarded her with a pitying stare. “Many a young lady such as yourself have fallen for the charms of unscrupulous men and believed them to have noble intentions. Perhaps your calling him a vampire was a metaphor of sorts for his predatory nature.” Suddenly he frowned. “You haven’t tasted your tea.”

She raised a brow. “The last time I had tea, it was drugged by my own mother.”

“You think I’d drug you? Fascinating.” The doctor adjusted his spectacles. “Although I will indeed administer medicine for when you need it, I assure you I will not use deceptive means to do so. I have a soothing tonic that you will have after supper, but it will not be hidden in your food or drink. I run an honest establishment.”

Bethany took a cautious sip, and found that it tasted satisfactory, with no bitter aftertaste of laudanum.

Keene leaned forward, continuing to dissect her with his eyes. “Now tell me, Miss Mead, do you ever see or hear things that are not there?”

Her father’s words echoed in her memory. “Mother claimed to see and speak to angels.” She shivered. “I cannot say that I have. I am weary from my journey, Doctor. Would you mind if I follow your advice and rest?” If she had to endure his silly interrogations for a moment longer, she vowed she would scream.

“Of course, Miss Mead.” He rose from the chair. “And when you’re feeling refreshed, I will introduce you to the other ladies in the wing before supper.” He then paused at the door. “My advice is to forget about the man who led you astray and do your best to find comfort here.”

Bethany nodded as she handed the maid her cup, but only because that was the expected response. She lay back on her bed, staring at that hideous wallpaper.

She would never forget Justus. Even now, her heart ached for him, a gaping hole that only he could fill.

“He will find me,” she whispered, closing her eyes against the garish yellow surrounding her. “Justus will come for me.”

But after four long years of waiting, she eventually accepted the fact that she’d imagined it all. Vampires weren’t real, and Justus was only a rake, taking advantage of her. Her parents’ abandonment was only further salt on the gaping wound of her heart.

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