'Captain Cleever,' Dracula said. 'A fine evening.'
'It is, sir,' the captain said. 'Indeed, it is.'
It was night, and they were making good time as they sailed down the coast heading for Dover. Their ship, the Croton, had an excellent head of wind and was destined to reach port before dawn.
Cleever glanced at the passenger. There was no doubt the man was strange. He had turned up out of nowhere wanting to charter his boat for the journey. It was fortunate they had just returned from Scarborough with a cargo of corn. His men were tired, but Count Dracula had offered a large sum to the captain and his men to take the journey.
Times can be tough, Cleever had thought. Best to catch the goose while it's here.
And so now they were tracing the east of the country under the phosphorescent light of the moon. Britain and France were at war, but Cleever had no concerns for their safety. It was still mostly an unfought, simmering conflict, and besides, Britain's navy ruled the waves. King George had expanded the navy substantially over the last few years. The empire had over three hundred ships and was growing all the time.
This was good for the navy and good for the country, but not so good for him. The Navy traditionally had three methods for increasing its numbers. One was through volunteering, another was the predatory pressgangs, and the third was William Pitt's insatiable quota system. More young men in the navy meant that fewer could join privately owned vessels.
'Have you been a captain for long?' Dracula asked.
'Thirty years, sir.'
'Married?'
'Twenty-five.'
Dracula chuckled, a dry, melodic sound. 'And you're still married. Goodness, your wife must be a patient woman.'
'I think she likes her own company.'
'Sounds like the perfect marriage.'
Both men laughed. Cleever usually kept his distance from the passengers, but this one seemed friendly enough.
'And you, sir?' the captain said. 'Are you married?'
The moment he asked the question, he sensed he had overstepped. The man had come aboard with a dozen people, most being painted women; Cleever had visited his share of brothels.
'No,' Dracula said. 'Not married. There was a woman I loved once.'
Cleever nodded. Maybe he'd not been so tactless after all.
'Her name was Mara,' Dracula said. 'She accepted me as I was, and she was kind.' The man paused. 'Yes, very kind.'
'That's a rare thing. People can control many other things. Their appearance and their manners. But kindness—that's a rare and fragile gift.'
The men continued to speak as the hours passed. By the time they reached Dover, Captain Cleever thought he had gotten the measure of the man. He was still unsure as to why he'd travelled this distance with this party of women, but he was sure there was a good reason.
Count Dracula and the women disembarked. While one of the women arranged a coach, Dracula briefly reboarded the ship. 'Captain,' he said. 'Will you assemble your men for me?'
'Of course, sir.'
Within minutes, the entire ship's crew was assembled on the deck. Dracula thanked them for their service and gave them his orders. The men agreed enthusiastically. The vampire said goodbye to them before climbing aboard his coach. He was heading to his next destination, his eyes searching the dark ocean, when he saw the sudden burst of incandescent light.
He imagined the scene on board the Croton. As instructed, the obedient crew would have splashed the oil from stem to stern before setting the doomed vessel ablaze. They were probably standing among the flames, waiting for the inferno to consume them.
Fire destroys everything, Dracula thought.
He peered over at Cassandra.
'It's a shame your sister isn't here,' he said.
'I know,' Cassandra said. 'I wish she were.'
Dracula took out the locket and looked at Jane's face again.
Mara, he thought. You've come back to me after all this time.
He had thought he would reign alone, but providence had returned her to him. Together, they would command this world. Jane didn't know about power yet. Few people did. This was why they wielded it so ineffectively. Jane naively thought life held immense value, but he would teach her otherwise. Once she had been transformed, she would see that humans died all the time. Whether they died by accident, old age, or by having the blood drained from their bodies made absolutely no difference. People died. They always had and always would. She would come around to his way of thinking.
The coach took them to the house. It was another building owned by the baroness and the least palatial of all. The property had fallen into ruin due to its proximity to the coalmine. No one had brought coal from the mine for years; its supply had long since been exhausted. Dracula led Cassandra and the other women from the coach to the mine's entrance.
Snatching up a flickering lantern, he led the others down the gently sloping tunnel into the Earth. The noise from below began as a rhythmic rumble and grew into an industrial torrent as they descended. The wall of sound was a relief to Dracula. Despite all his experience, he still worried that his power to mesmerise would wear off unexpectedly, and his plan would fail.
The tunnel turned, and he saw he need not have been concerned.
'Oh, Jane,' Dracula grinned. 'You will be so surprised.'