Part 10

The invitations had arrived from the printer and Alexander had seen to them himself; signing each and sealing them into their hand-addressed envelopes. It occupied a good portion of his morning, even though there were only a dozen. His signature, so easily signed to contracts and documents seemed to take far greater care for those papers, as if they were committing him to something far more serious than thousands of dollars and international agreements. Once finished, and after a strong cup of tea (something he had developed a taste for considering the abysmal state of coffee in London) he gave the pile over to Renfield to deliver, all except one, the one for Mina. It sat atop the box of fabric for a good hour as he stared at it, pondering the implications of what he was about to do. Was it a dishonor to the memory of his beloved Ilona, to invite another woman into her home, into his heart? For a moment he stuttered, wondering if he had been driven by selfishness in the whole affair. It took a deep breath to try to calm himself. Nerves, it was only nerves he reasoned. Ilona would not have wanted him to remain alone forever; that was not the type of woman she had been. His lips quivered at the memory of her smile, tears he would not admit to came to his eyes as he recalled her kind touches upon his shoulders as he had poured himself into work, how she would bring him tea when he worked late, and welcome him to their bed when he did not.

"My darling, I will love you forever." He said out loud to her. "I would have spent my entire life with you but the world had other plans. This house has mourned for you for so long, as have I. It should be time for the laughter of a family to dwell here again. I know you would want that, especially for Elizabeth." He took another breath. "Every time I look at her I see you. But it is time, isn't it?" He waited, just to see if there would be some kind of response to his soliloquy, but of course there was not, only the faint sounds of the household beyond his study doors.

Alexander stood up, tucked the envelope into his jacket pocket, and took the box under his arm.

Taking the small open carriage having harnessed the horse himself, Alexander started off towards Mina's home. And as the horse stepped slowly along the street he found himself counting the 'clip-clop' of its hooves for no other reason than to keep himself calm against the panic of his errand. Again he had not sent any pre announcement of his intention to visit, he was counting on luck, as he most always did in that regard. One day that luck was liable to run out he knew, but he hoped that very day would not be the one when it did.

He offered a greeting to Mina's neighbour, who was out on her porch with a broom, sweeping away the dust stirred up by the gentle breeze of the day. He complimented her lovely home, now that he could see it in the daylight, which seemed to delight her. She replied with a cheery smile and thanks; seemingly he had won her favor, which was a good thing he thought. Rapping on Mina's door he waited to see if she was home and would answer. When she did, with her usual beautiful smile, he released the breath he had not realized he had been holding and tried to speak.

"Good morning Mina."

"Good morning Alexander, it's so lovely to see you."

"I've brought something for you."

"I see." She nodded at the box in his hands. "Would you like to come in?"

"Very much so, please."

She stepped clear of the open door and allowed him to enter into the house, which he did, cautiously.

"You do not seem yourself today Alexander, has something happened to so unsettle you?" She inquired of him.

"Only the sleepless musings of my own addled brain."

"Do tell?"

"Mina I wish to ask something of you, and I will understand completely if you refuse me."

"Now you certainly have me confused Alexander, and concerned."

As they stood in the small front hall he opened the lid of the box to show her the silk.

"You wish me to make another dress for someone? Of course I will." She patted his hand reassuringly, nodding.

"I wish for you to make a dress for yourself."

"For me? Why?"

He gave over the box to her so he could reach inside his jacket and withdraw the envelope.

"For this?"

"And what is this?"

"A dinner party, at Carfax. I would very much like to introduce you to my friends. My real friends." He added. "No shareholders, no business partners, no Lords or Ladies, just an intimate dinner. You and James of course." Alexander could hear himself stuttering as he spoke. He cursed himself quietly for sounding so like a schoolboy and so unlike the confident man he was used to being.

"I don't know what to say Alexander." Mina touched the exposed ivory silk very carefully.

"Yes?" He offered.

"Of course. I would be delighted. Do you feel better now?" Her smile was indulgent but so sincere.

"Much. Now will you see if I have had the shop pack everything that you need or if I have forgotten something despite your careful instructions of the other day?"

Mina took the box into the sitting room and laid it on the settee, unpacking the contents with some reverence.

"It's so beautiful Alexander. The fabric, the findings, even thread." Each small package was set out side by side, including an envelope filled with bills. "But why money? You certainly cannot expect to pay me to make my own dress can you?"

"Victoria tells me that you will need shoes, and, ah, underthings to go with it. I would never presume to buy those for you. You shall have to acquire them yourself."

"Why Alexander, you are turning a little red." Mina laughed. "And it suits you so well." She stood, crossed to him where he had been nervously hanging in the doorway and kissed him softly on his cheek.

"With all this business you and Victoria are bringing to me I shall need another dressmaker's form." She mentioned matter-of-factly as she repacked the box.

"I will have it delivered this afternoon then."

And he did, despite her protestations, which turned out to be a good thing as Victoria brought her daughter by that afternoon to commission a dress for the party.

The dress was hanging on the older dressmaker's form in her bedroom. It was beautiful, the most beautiful things she had ever owned, even more beautiful than the dress she had worn when she had married Jonathan. Of course back then (not that things had changed substantially) there had not been a great deal of money to spare for such things. There was a house to care for, and Jonathan's Aunt, who had owned the house prior to her passing. She and Jonathan had gone to live there, with Mina caring for the elderly lady, just after they were married. A widow herself without children, Mina had taken on that role, and had learned the teas to give her to ease her breathing, and how to cool fevers; everything that was required when the doctor could not be there. When she had passed, the house had come to Jonathan, and when he had passed it had come to her. But never in that time was there money, or truly a need for a dress that fine. And Mina had never wanted for it. She really didn't believe that she had ever wanted for much.

Of course there had been instances when new shoes or a new coat would have been welcome, but the old ones could be repaired or made to last one more year. The dress before her, with its mother of pearl buttons and golden thread would have bought them all brand new coats and shoes she suspected. And it was hard to look at that type of luxury without feeling some guilt that it had all been spent on her.

It was one thing to put these dresses together for other women, and to be compensated for that work. There was a pride that creation and making a fair wage (not that Mina boasted about it to anyone, that wouldn't be Christian). She just wanted to be able to leave the house in good repair for James, and provide him with as much education as she could afford, to give him a start in life; it was all she had dreamed about since Jonathan had died.

Jonathan had had other dreams, and Mina had always tried to encourage them. He had wanted to be a newspaper man, he had wanted to investigate and write stories about crime and punishments. He had wanted his name, the Harker name to be important in London. After James had been born he had wanted it even more, and perhaps that obsession had been what had made him careless at his real job. Mina couldn't say, and she chastised herself for thinking ill of the dead. They had been growing more distant before the end, his frustrations of not being able to land the job he felt he was due had made him angry, not that Mina had ever stopped loving him, nor he her she hoped, even in the midst of that anger.

Looking at the finished dress, late on the night before the party (the invitation to which had so flustered Alexander), had brought forth a great many demons. It had been easy to lose herself in shopping for the shoes, there had been enough money to buy a pair for James as well, and enough leftover silk to fashion a slip, which had saved her some of that money. In the dark though Mina began to wonder if her expectations were growing too high, far beyond her station as Jayne had told her. No one else had needed to say the words out loud; her own mind began to question her sense.

It had been frightening to discover that she was in love with Alexander Grayson.

He had gone to the kitchen to check on the shopping for the party. The butcher was to deliver fresh poultry in the morning for roasting. There was wine set aside for a glaze and rice for stuffing. There would be carrots, glazed in sugar and root vegetables from last year's stores, with apples. A consume would begin the meal, as well as oysters and fresh rolls with the meat. Dessert was to be spring berries in a clotted cream. The cook was nearly beside herself; a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Alexander had chosen three different wines; one for each course, and the maids had polished the silver and already set the table.

Chairs had been arranged in the garden should they be required, and flowers were to be cut mid afternoon so they would be at their most lovely in the foyer and on the table. Seeing to the details had kept him from having to too closely examine the underpinnings of the event, for he feared he might lose his nerve completely; and disappoint himself possibly to the point of giving up.

RSVP's had been received, not one regret.

His suit had been laid out in his dressing room, shoes shined, shirt and tie pressed. Everything was at the ready, even the little silver box, tucked into his nightstand.

A full glass of scotch was waiting by his bedside; clever Renfield, knowing his master's nerves, and likely guessing at the reason for them had at least made an attempt to see to a restful sleep. Sitting down hard on the side of the bed, Alexander took the crystal glass in his fingers, swirled the amber liquid in the light of his lamp and then shot it back in one glup. Perhaps it was an injustice to the liquor, as complex as it was. It had other purposes just then. The warm burn began in his throat and radiated out to his fingers and toes. Suddenly he felt very weary, perhaps it was finally getting off his feet? He swung his legs around to recline against his pillows. As he closed his eyes he wondered if this might be the last night he lay alone in this bed.