The Dead Travel Fast

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Happy reading!

For my husband. For everything. For always.

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Characters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Readers’ Guide Questions

Acknowledgments

Deleted Scene from The Dead Travel Fast

Letter from Theodora Lestrange

Mmlig

Excerpt from Dark Road to Darjeeling

Copyright

Theodora Lestrange, an aspiring novelist and seeker of adventure

Charles Beecroft, her publisher and erstwhile suitor

Anna and William, Theodora’s sister and brother-in-law

Mrs. Muldoon, Theodora’s housekeeper

Cosmina Dragulescu, Theodora’s school friend

Countess Eugenia Dragulescu, her aunt

Count Andrei Dragulescu, son to the countess and master of the Castle Dragulescu

Frau Amsel, companion to the countess

Florian, her son, the acting steward of the castle

Frau Graben, the cook

Tereza, a maid at the castle

Aurelia, her sister, also a maid

Count Bogdan, the deceased count who may not lie easily in his grave

Dr. Frankopan, doctor and friend to the countess

Madam Popa, his housekeeper and wife to a man with a terrible secret

The villagers, peasant folk who inhabit the valley below the castle and serve the Dragulescus

The pedlar, a traveller

Herr Engel, proprietor of a rest home

As he spoke, he smiled, and the lamplight fell on a hard-looking mouth, with very red lips and sharp-looking teeth, as white as ivory. One of my companions whispered to the other…“Denn die Todten reiten schnell.” (“For the dead travel fast.”)

—Bram Stoker, Dracula

It is with true love as it is with ghosts, which everyone talks about and few have seen.

—François de la Rochefoucauld

All proper stories begin with the words Once upon a time…. But this is not a proper story—it is mine. You will not believe it. You will say such things are not possible. But you believed once, long ago. You believed in witches and goblins and things that walked abroad in the dark of the night. And you believed in happily ever after and that love can mend all. For children believe in impossible things. So read my tale with a child’s eyes and believe once more in the impossible….

Edinburgh, 1858

“I am afraid we must settle the problem of what to do with Theodora,” my brother-in-law said with a weary sigh. He looked past me to where my sister sat stitching placidly on a tiny gown. It had been worn four times already and wanted a bit of freshening.

Anna glanced up from her work to give me a fond look. “I rather think Theodora ought to have a say in that, William.”

To his credit, he coloured slightly. “Of course she must.” He sketched a tiny bow in my direction. “She is a woman grown, after all. But now that Professor Lestrange has been properly laid to rest, there is no one here to care for her. Something must be decided.”

At the mention of my grandfather, I turned back to the bookshelf whose contents I had been sorting. His library had been an extensive one, and, to my anguish, his debts demanded it be sold along with anything else of value in the house. Indeed, the house itself would have to be sold, although William had hopes that the pretty little property in Picardy Place would fetch enough to settle the debts and leave me a tiny sum for my keep. I wiped the books carefully with a cloth sprinkled with neat’s-foot oil and placed them aside, bidding farewell to old friends.

Just then the housekeeper, Mrs. Muldoon, bustled in. “The post, Miss Lestrange.”

I sorted through the letters swiftly, passing the business correspondence to William. I kept only three for myself, two formal notes of condolence and the last, an odd, old-fashioned-looking letter written on thick, heavy paper and embellished with such exotic stamps and weighty wax seals that I knew at once who must have sent it. I hesitated to open it, savouring the pleasure of anticipation.

William showed no such restraint. He dashed a paper knife through the others, casting a quick eye over the contents.

“More debts,” he said with a sigh. He reached for the ledger, entering the numbers with a careful hand. It was good of him to settle my grandfather’s affairs so diligently, but at the moment I wanted nothing more than to be rid of him with his ledgers and his close questions about how best to dispose of a spinster sister-in-law of twenty-three.