Prologue
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Maurice French, one of America's most promising inventors of the 19th century, was staring out of the carriage, watching how dark and gloomy forests and several foggy fenlands passed by his window.
Right from the beginning, he had had this strange feeling about this trip to Scotland. He had received a mysterious letter only two weeks ago, an invitation from a Scottish count, who had asked him to travel to his castle and to tell him about his latest inventions. There had been a ticket attached for a ship that would leave New York's port only two days after, and the mysterious man had asked him to take it and to visit him immediately.
Maurice was no fool, and he would certainly not follow such a strange invitation blindly. He had done some research after he had received the letter written on rich parchment, had asked some of his closest friends back in New York. And some of them indeed had heard about this mysterious man – a count even. Count Gold seemed to have done similar deals with some of Maurice's acquaintances over the past years, but neither of them had been too eager to talk about it. Rumor had it that Gold was a cruel and vile man, but powerful and rich to the same extent. And Maurice had to admit that he had been rather conflicted about Gold's invitation. But in the end, the need for money won the internal struggle whether to accept it or not. The inventor knew that he had lots of potential – but to realize his ideas, he needed money. He was always on quest of finding investors who would be willing to support his work, but unfortunately, the upper class of New York City seemed to be rather frightened of anything that was new. They preferred to keep the status quo – an absolute foolish thing in a modern world like this – at least in Maurice's opinion. But without investments, no money… and with no money, no inventions. But Count Gold seemed to be different, and pretty interested in Maurice's ideas. So the old inventor had finally accepted the invitation, and now he was sitting in a carriage that would lead him to the count's castle – but the uneasiness in his heart grew with every mile they would cover until they reached their destination.
When he had left the ship, a carriage had already been waiting for him, ready to bring him to Gold's castle. A slight shiver had run down Maurice's spine as he had met the driver – a man with startling but crazy blue eyes who had bowed lowly and had introduced himself as Jefferson – one of the Count's servants. The strange man hadn't said much, had just stared at him for a lasting moment and had finally nodded.
"This will do." he had muttered to himself before he had taken Maurice's luggage to store it away.
Maurice had just been about to turn around, the old man never been a brave man and the stranger had done nothing to ease the fright that had been lingering in Maurice's heart. But he had to take the chance. He was a genius, a visionary. But mere ideas in his head wouldn't be able to pay the bills – and he had not only himself to care for, but his beautiful daughter Belle as well.
Belle was his one and only, his shining star. She didn't know about the debts he had piled over the past years of ill success, the loving father not wanting the beauty's heart to suffer or concern for even the slightest of seconds.
This visit to Scotland would end their unuttered problems… It would grant and maintain the life his darling Belle so deserved.
So Maurice had decided to overcome his fears the rumors about Gold had evoked in his heart.
For his Belle and her future.
After all, the worst thing that could happen was that this strange but powerful Count Gold would send him away.
Wasn't it?