Leave me some constructive criticism and the favor will be returned with cosmic goodwill :)
The dry heat had become more humid inside the shabby black cab of the carriage. Sweat dripped down the brow of William Todd, one of the three occupants of the cab, and ran into his eyes. He swiped at it and glanced out the dull window next to him, hoping to be reassured they would arrive soon, but the only reassurance he gathered was that the sweat on his face would turn to mud as soon as he exited the cab. A cloud of reddish dust had engulfed their carriage as they drove, like the dry and choking sister of fog.
There were two things Will was sure of as he sat staring out at the dust. The first was that he didn’t much enjoy the London countryside, at least from what he’d seen. The second was that they wouldn’t need to stay very long at the Belleview manor. He’d read of their impossible claims ― certainly he had, as everyone had ― and he knew that it wouldn’t take long to prove them frauds. Stories like this always led to dead ends.
One of the horses whinnied, snapping Will’s attention back to the cab. The carriage jolted under them, throwing the two men in the seat opposite Will into each other. An unintelligible shout from the driver rang out as he attempted to calm the horses. All three men looked at each other, none quite sure what the problem was, and none quite brave enough to ask; a strange feeling had settled over Will, a hot-cold dread in the pit of his stomach that crawled up through his rib cage into his heart.
He thought he might throw up, or faint, or maybe both.
And then the feeling passed, and a clearing opened up before them. A large, dark and weary looking manor jutted up from the ground like a gravestone, sudden and a little wrong. Despite the sweltering heat of the cab, a chill ran down Will’s spine. Immediately, he chastised himself for being so easily spooked.
“Remind me again why we’re bothering to investigate this?” John Kingsley growled, exasperated. His head smacked against the wall behind him as the carriage slid to a sudden halt, knocking his hat onto the floor. He rubbed the back of his skull and grumbled under his breath.
Harry Brighton picked up his friend’s hat and set it back on his head, rapping the top with his knuckles. “Because head of house sent us, that’s why.”
Will put his hand on the door. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”
[pt 1]