That evening she shared it with Jonathan, who concurred. "He hardly sounds like Renfield, or even you in the worst of your delirium. And yet…" "What is it?" "Nothing. I was thinking of the castle, but I can't ever recall seeing the sister alone. She was always with the others. Perhaps they goaded her on or forced her to join them, in which case, Arthur is probably right." "And you're not dreaming of her?" He laughed, kissed her cheek. "Dearest, I usually dream of you, and in the most embarrassing of positions, I might add." Since Van Helsing's frantic letter five days before, there had been positions—far more than she'd ever expected. They'd gone to her cottage and calmly alerted Essie, who took the news in stride. "She likely won't know where to find you anyway, unless your friend tells her," Essie added. Essie was right. The firm's address was on the papers Dracula had signed, their house in town well known. But she had kept this place something of a secret, just as Gance had. Better to be discreet in a town so small.
