Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

What are you doing?” Angelika hissed at Will as they moved to the bonfire.

“It’s the only way,” he replied. When everyone was sitting and leaning forward in their seats, Will began what sounded like a ghost story.

“It was about one month ago that Victor and Angelika were out riding at night and they found me on the roadside. I was beaten and wearing not a stitch of clothing. Everything I might have had was gone. They brought me back here, and when I woke up, I had absolutely no memory. Angelika’s was the first face I saw.” His expression softened with affection as he looked to her. “She was telling me her name was Angelika, and I was at Blackthorne Manor. I was quite rude to her.”

She laughed. “He was, it’s true.”

“How utterly frightful,” Clara said to him with alarm. “My goodness. Have you recovered?”

“I have, but I don’t have my memory. And I need to know who I am.”

“What do you know about yourself so far?” Christopher asked without so much as a blink of surprise. Adaptability was an attractive trait in a man.

As he cut a wedge of cheese, Victor replied, “He’s educated, can read and write, with good manners and a fine mind. Good teeth. No pox scars. Knows Latin. He can navigate by the stars, and I’d wager he could tell you the botanical name of every plant in this courtyard. He can ride better than I and load a pistol. I believe him to be a gentleman of excellent standing.”

Christopher plainly did not like this assessment. “Right.”

Will noticed, and continued his explanation. “The Frankensteins have been doing everything in their power to help me find out where I came from, and they have given me the very shirt on my back. But I think we need your help, Commander.”

Christopher’s expression gave nothing away. “What do you imagine I could do?”

“You have resources that would be invaluable to my search. You can discreetly speak with magistrates, the night watch, military men, the church.”

“We have tried to investigate to the best of our ability,” Angelika agreed. “But it isn’t enough.”

“That’s why you first visited my office,” Christopher said slowly, turning to her. “You asked me if there had been an accident. Surely you know we would not leave an injured officer behind, and not on a forest road. Is this why you made my acquaintance? You could have just asked me directly in that first meeting, and I would have done all I could.”

“I know that now,” Angelika said quietly. “But it was confidential, and strange, and I didn’t know you then. Please don’t feel that I have used you.”

She could see that he did.

“I would like to know the exact date and location. I will visit it tomorrow.” Christopher’s voice had changed, and now he was every inch a military commander. “Was there a coach overturned? Any debris, any signs of a scuffle?”

“Not a thing. Just Will, lying there looking very much naked and dead.” Victor coughed after a pause. “We did locate a ring with possibly a family crest on his person, but it has since gone missing.”

Will explained, “We have followed what leads we could, but so far we have not been able to find any promising local events of violence.”

“You haven’t tried hard. The village is overrun,” Christopher exclaimed in disbelief. “There’s dozens of places you could have come from. This village is placed upon a trade route, and the inn is where horses are changed and travelers stay overnight. There have been merchants robbed at knifepoint, a group of tramps set up camp in a ravine near the high road south, a horse-stealing ring that has spread to the neighboring five counties—”

“Already, you are proving you can help us,” Lizzie said, producing her notebook and a shard of lead. “I will begin writing these down. We are all part of this investigation now, and we must all swear to never tell a soul. We are now a secret society.”

Clara exclaimed with a smile, “How utterly exciting.” Then she went red and amended, stammering, “Except it is a t-terrible circumstance.”

“It’s all right, it is exciting,” Angelika told her.

Victor said sagely, “I am already in three secret societies. It’s not as interesting as you would think.”

Christopher gestured in the direction of the academy. “On my desk, right this moment, I have a bulletin of missing persons and criminals wanted. I don’t completely understand why you would risk that possible outcome. Why not just continue living here?”

Will replied to him, “I am living in luxury that is unearned. I sleep in the room opposite Angelika’s bedroom, but I could be anybody—a thief, a scoundrel, a murderer—and it disturbs me. Until I find out if I am even worthy to be in her presence, or if I am free to court her, we are at an impasse.”

Christopher was caught on one detail. “You sleep opposite her bedroom?”

“You mentioned you are not a gambling man,” Victor pointed out to Christopher. “But I think you would take this bet. What are the odds that a man of this age, appearance, education, and apparent good breeding is unmarried? The ring we found was on the wedded finger.”

Christopher stared at his handsome rival. “May I be forthright?” Will gave a nod. “I believe there is a possibility you are lying to these generous people. You have not lost your memory, but instead you are here to milk what fortune you can out of this situation. I have known swindlers in my time, even handsome and well-bred.”

“That’s not it,” Victor said. “I absolutely guarantee that is not the case.”

Christopher was unwilling to accept this. “You cannot know for certain.”

“If that were the case, I would already be married to Angelika, and I would be presently draining the accounts dry, with her enthusiastic blessing,” Will said gravely.

He left a long pause for her to issue any type of denial. The flames crackled and Angelika cringed under everyone’s stare. She had been so brazen.

Then Will continued. “It is something I worry about. The way the Frankensteins trust so openheartedly? It terrifies me. What if I am a low-born criminal, someone cruel, someone who would indeed take advantage of kindness?”

“You are not,” Angelika said. “You are the best of men.”

Christopher heard her tenderness and straightened his spine. Two flyaway hairs on his head floated like insect antennae, illuminated by the torch at the back door. It was as close to disheveled as she’d ever seen him. “I am to understand that I am at a significant disadvantage in this scenario.”

Will laughed at that. “I said that to Angelika merely moments ago, but about myself. You are at a great advantage, Commander. You know who you are.”

“But Angelika knows you. You are around all the time, and she is clearly fond of you.” Christopher made a decision. “If I assist you back to your old life, and your existing family commitments—”

Will finished: “I will be content knowing that Angelika will be able to move forward with her life, her reputation untainted, and she can be wed to a man of high status.” The pain in Will’s voice was evident to the group. “I would not ask her to marry me, even if it were what she wanted.”

“I, apparently, have no input into this matter,” Angelika said dryly. “The horse sale has become an auction.”

Lizzie gave her a warning look, and mouthed, Larkspur.

“This is natural science,” Victor informed the group. “In nature, the males compete for the female. Here we have two fine peacocks, posturing for the plain brown peahen.”

“I was a horse and now a peahen? I hate you with all my heart,” Angelika told Victor. He threw a piece of cheese at her in response. She ate it.

Victor continued. “I will tell you a well-kept secret about myself, Chris. I am not a formal, snobbish type of person.” The group let out an identical guffaw. “If Will is revealed to be a street sweeper, but he proposes to my sister and she accepts, I will not stand in their way. It is Jelly’s choice.”

Christopher replied, “All I ask is that I am considered fairly. I want to get to know you, Angelika. I feel we have an interesting attraction. Do you deny it?”

The fire crackled more.

“You are allowed to confess it,” Will told her. “I will not be angry.”

Angelika took a deep breath, hating herself for this betrayal. But the truth was required.

“I do not deny it. Christopher, you are dreadfully handsome. I like your liquor cabinet selections, and you are a laugh. Since the second I met you, I have ached to scrunch up a handful of your perfect shirt in my fist.”

Christopher’s eyes gleamed in the firelight, and a new kind of energy passed between them. “I would not object. And how I wish we had met at the ball.”

Angelika decided to be brazen once more. “But I will be clear on one point: I prefer Will. He is the one who has my heart.”

“You prefer a nameless man,” Christopher pointed out. “I am willing to wait until all is revealed to see what your final choice is. I do believe I am still a good option.”

“That’s all we’ve ever wanted for Jelly. For her to have a choice.” Lizzie was writing in her official secret society notebook. “I undertake to be a neutral umpire in the courting of the fairy queen.”

“I would put everything I have into this,” Christopher threatened Will. “None of you know this, but I am a renowned hunter. There is nothing and no one I cannot find: foxes, stags, missing horses, or absconding officers. I have found everything I’ve ever hunted for. The very first thing I will need is a likeness of Will.”

“I think I could help with that,” Clara blurted out, surprising the group. “I’m—I’m rather good at . . .” They all leaned forward. She finished weakly: “Drawing.”

“Excellent,” Lizzie praised her. “Come back and we shall have Will sit for a portrait. Do you use charcoal, lead, or oils? We shall get what you prefer.”

“I haven’t used anything in a long time,” Clara replied, worry returning to her features. “Perhaps I am not as good as I was. Someone else would be better.”

“Nonsense,” Angelika encouraged her firmly. “You can do it. Could you possibly have a better sitting model than Will?” She saw Clara’s eyes flick back to Christopher. It was clear which man she’d prefer to commit to posterity. “Bring Edwin, of course. We will send the coach for you.”

“I think we have a deal,” Will said, but he was addressing Angelika when he asked, “Are you also in agreement?”

All eyes turned to her. She hesitated. Then, she firmed her resolve. Did they all think her so easily swayed? She would love Will no matter his past. Was he a thief or a trickster who would take advantage of them? If he were, she could reform him. If Will turned out to be a beggar, she would have him. If he were a gutter drunk, a shyster, a wealthy snob, a lowly pauper, she would have him.

“Well?” Will prompted.

The idea of a baby was the only thing to give her pause.

“It is the way for this uncertainty to end, my love,” Will said to her softly, as if they were alone. “I am suffering. I cannot rest. I have nothing to offer you. This is the only way to guarantee that you know what your options are, and to end my torment.”

Angelika nodded. “I agree. And I demand absolute confidentiality from this entire group. Christopher, do you promise to guard Will’s secret with your life?” He nodded gravely. “And, Will, do you promise me that you will tell me the moment your memory returns?” He also nodded. “Then I agree.”

Lizzie and Clara applauded.

“My deal with you has a caveat,” Christopher cut in, addressing Will. “You are out of this house. You can have full board and lodging at the barracks. It is more proper.” His meaning was clear as he glanced at Angelika.

Will offered no resistance and pointed in the direction of the orchard. “I am aware that the house is at capacity. I have already been clearing out one of the servants’ cottages up on the hill. I think it will suit me very well.”

“It’s all settled,” Victor said, slapping his hands together so loudly they all jumped. “What a host I am. This is a dinner for the record books.”

“How so?” Lizzie inquired with a laugh as he pulled her onto his lap.

“Jelly has one and a half suitors. Will shall soon reintroduce himself to us. Chris has the look of a bloodhound. Clara is a secret artist. You have founded a secret society. I am a genius. When I find my proof . . .” Victor lost a little of his swagger and looked out at the dark fields surrounding them. He then seemed to shake himself. “Let’s set off the crackers to celebrate.” He lifted his voice and roared, “I say, Mary—”

“Already bringing ’em,” Mary said from the doorway, holding a wooden crate. “But these will wake the baby.”

“Oh, what a shame,” Angelika said with patent relish, and everyone laughed, except Will.

He hung back as they all tipped their faces to the sky, dazzled by the starbursts. Angelika turned around to exclaim to Will, but he was gone, replaced by the silhouette of a sow, skulking along the wall.

“You’ll miss it.” Christopher put his hand on her lower back, facing her forward. His fingertips pressed so warm and firm, she felt a pop-fizz of utter splendor right down to her bones.

She could not deny it.