There was only one conclusion to draw, only one dark science that must be detailed in their ancestors’ journals, only one explanation for their names.
“But that’s not the end, is it, Elizabeth?” My own hands trembled at the thought. “Death, I mean. It isn’t the end.”
She regarded me as one might a madwoman. “What are you saying?”
“Your family was from Switzerland. They were illegitimate. They changed their name, didn’t they?”
She didn’t respond with even as much as a nod. She was clever, perhaps far cleverer than me, and yet I had figured out the von Stein secret.
“What was their name, Elizabeth?” I demanded.
“Frankenstein!” she cried. “Their name was Frankenstein before they changed it. Is that what you wished to hear?”
Lucy gaped. “But that’s just an old story!”
I had heard the tales too, like most children. But I also remembered Father mentioning the name Frankenstein in his study with his colleagues. At the time I’d thought they were swapping ghost stories, until I realized that grown men didn’t sit around at night telling stories.
“Victor Frankenstein was my great-great-uncle,” she admitted quietly. “He died in 1794. He’d traveled to the Orkney Islands and fathered a bastard son with a Scottish lord’s daughter—that son was the professor’s grandfather. What you’ve heard are only rumors. But all rumors, Victor Frankenstein’s tale especially, are rooted in truth.”
“That’s why the King’s Club wanted your family journals, isn’t it?” I asked. “They knew. They wanted Victor Frankenstein’s research.”
“Yes,” she said, her voice revealing nothing. “They wanted those journals. My great-great-uncle was very precise in his notes. And I’ve helped you because thus far, you’ve been merely victims to dangerous science like his. But what you are suggesting crosses that line. It’s a hard line to come back from. My uncle dabbled when he was younger, but he saw the errors of his ways before it was too late. Your father wasn’t as fortunate. If you cross that line, Juliet, you’ll be in danger of becoming just like him.”
Unconscious at our feet, Edward moaned; his fingertips had already turned black.
“Edward’s not just anyone,” I said. “He’s Montgomery’s blood relation. He sacrificed himself to protect all of us.” My voice dropped. “If he hadn’t poisoned himself, I know I could have cured him in time.”
Elizabeth leaned closer. “Think hard, Juliet. It’s only a handful of scientists who are ever even faced with this decision. The smart ones turn back. Only the mad push forward.”
Edward would be dead within hours. He was like kin to me, my father his creator as much as mine. Was Edward worth more than my soul? My sanity?
I was already a murderer, after all. Already damned.
As Edward lay dying and my thoughts turned as fast as the carriage wheels, the horses whisked us away, far north, where the heath grew and wind twisted the trees, to a place where people were forgotten.
To a place we’d never be found.
To a place where I might lose myself to the same dark madness that had claimed my father.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
TO MY EDITOR, KRISTIN Rens: You know exactly what to say to inspire me to take my drafts to the next level. Taking this book from the spark of an idea to the finished version has been a wonderful and challenging journey, and I’m so lucky to have had you as my guide.
To my agent, Josh Adams, and Tracey and Quinlan Lee at Adams Literary: Any author would be fortunate to be on your team. You guys are the whole package!
My thanks to the Balzer + Bray and HarperCollins team: associate editor Sara Sargent, publicist/miracle worker Caroline Sun, designers Alison Klapthor and Alison Donalty, copy editors Renée Cafiero and Anne Dunn, marketing mavens Emilie Polster, Stephanie Hoffman, Margot Wood, and Aubry Parks-Fried. I owe my book’s beautiful design, marketing savvy, and book shimmies to you guys.
To my critique partners and writing support team: Megan Miranda, Ellen Oh, Carrie Ryan, Constance Lombardo, Andrea Jacobsen, Melissa Koosmann, the Bat Cave superheroes, Friday the Thirteeners, and Lucky 13s. This book is a thousand times better for your insight.
To my wonderful family: Peggy & Tim for reading my drafts and being my biggest cheerleaders; Lena for being a constant inspiration and for talking me down from the ledge when I’m ready to abandon tough drafts; and Nancy, Gene, Marilyn, & the Shepherd clan for your enthusiasm and accepting me into your family, weird book ideas and all.
And lastly, to my husband, Jesse: I can’t possibly put into words everything you mean to me. Because of your encouragement, I became a writer. Because of your support, I became an author. With you life is an adventure, and I can’t wait to see where it takes us next.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MEGAN SHEPHERD grew up in her family’s independent bookstore in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The travel bug took her from London to Timbuktu and many places in between, though she ended up back in North Carolina with her husband and two cats, and she wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. The Madman’s Daughter and Her Dark Curiosity are her first novels. Visit her online at www.meganshepherd.com.
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BOOKS BY MEGAN SHEPHERD
THE MADMAN’S DAUGHTER
CREDITS
Cover photos © 2014 by Lara Jade
Cover design by Alison Klapthor
COPYRIGHT
Balzer + Bray is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
Her Dark Curiosity
Copyright © 2014 by Megan Shepherd
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ISBN 978-0-06-212805-8 (trade bdg.)
ISBN 978-0-06-232653-9 (international edition)
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EPUB Edition © DECEMBER 2013 ISBN 9780062128072
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