Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

It was remarkable how some words hung in the air longer than others. These two—kiss me—hung like a puff of pink smoke, and Will and Clara walked right through it. In this quiet house, Christopher’s voice would have definitely carried.

“I was just hoping for an opinion,” Clara said faintly, bouncing Edwin higher on her hip.

Christopher did not attempt to wave away the lingering moment. He sat there, marvelous legs splayed out, and stared back at Will. The air seemed to leak out of the room. Edwin chortled at everyone’s discomfort.

“Just hoping for an opinion on my sketch,” Clara tried again, fainter yet. It was her embarrassment that knocked Christopher back into himself. He made a visible effort to concentrate, and addressed her with warmth.

“It’s ready? That barely took you a minute. Grand. Let’s see it, then.”

“You told me to keep it simple.” Clara gestured backward. “I left it on the easel, in case you think it is not a good likeness.”

The four (plus Edwin) went back to the library to look at Clara’s efforts.

“It’s beautiful,” Angelika told her honestly, and with a lot of relief. “You have drawn him well. I’m sure eyes are not easy, but you have got him exactly right.” There was something she didn’t like about it. The sketch of Will had a haunted quality; a tension to the jaw and in the direct stare. “I’d much rather a happier portrait, though,” Angelika added. “If I could ask you to sit a second time for Clara, that would be grand.”

“She has depicted my stress levels accurately,” Will said with a hand in his hair.

“Should we talk outside?” Christopher asked him in a polite threat.

Angelika sighed. “Stop it, both of you. You forgot to sign it,” she said to Clara. “Artists always sign their work.”

Clara inscribed CH at the bottom of the piece.

“I will be meeting the local magistrate tomorrow morning,” Christopher said, rolling up the drawing and inserting it into a leather portrait case. “I will send a message afterward to let you know what the outcome was.”

“Can I have it back when you are finished with it?” Angelika asked.

“No,” Christopher told her evenly. “Clara, would you and Edwin like to come back in my carriage?”

“I think that would be wonderful,” Clara said, grabbing up her belongings, clearly wanting a speedy exit. Angelika watched the men walk on ahead, and relaxed a fraction as they began what looked like a civil conversation.

“I should like to pay you for your work,” Angelika told Clara as they walked through the house.

Clara was surprised, and offended. “I thought I was an equal part of the secret society.”

“You are, and you have performed an integral part. I want you to be compensated as my valued consultant.”

“I don’t like feeling like one of your staff.”

Angelika had anticipated this argument. “Men are always paid for their work and talents; it is important to me that women are, too. Edwin demands that you say yes. The things he likes best in the world cost money.”

“His favorite toy is a pine cone.”

Out of her pocket, Angelika took the folded envelope she had prepared earlier, with ten pounds inside and sealed with the family crest in wax. She made Clara take it. “Just open it later, and feel happy that you are so very talented. You have earned this by doing something none of us could achieve. I am hereby requesting a further commission, in oils, and I will pay ten times what is here.”

Clara very nearly said no. But then Edwin chirped and reached for the envelope, causing them both to laugh. “I never expected a thing. I was happy to just feel included in something. Thank you.” She hesitated. “Who would the oil painting be of?”

Without thought, Angelika replied, “Will, of course.”

Clara was rightfully puzzled. “I thought you hadn’t decided upon him.”

“I shall let the winner fight his way into the gilt frame in my bedroom.” Angelika slowed her step, forcing Clara to dawdle with her. “Who loves me best, do you think?”

“Edwin,” Clara deadpanned, unwilling to give her the satisfaction.

Angelika grinned at that. “And I’m mad for him in return. Did you find new lodgings? I am sewing a few more pieces for my little beau, and I will personally deliver them to you.”

“That’s kind, thank you ever so much. He’s growing at a cracking pace.” Clara reluctantly tucked the money away. “And this will help the house-hunting cause. I may have to go back to my hometown. Here, the properties are of two qualities: pigpen or manor house. The village is no longer a safe place, either. Would you believe the women are afraid to go out past sunset? They say there is a monster in the trees.” Clara hesitated, and then added, “But I feel like you already know about that.”

This was why Victor kept them isolated for so long. The more people coming into this house, the greater the chance of exposure. Just as Angelika began to panic, Clara added, “I was making a joke. You and Victor lead such adventurous lives.”

Angelika changed the subject. “Should I speak with Christopher for you? Perhaps I have some influence to let you stay in your cottage.”

Christopher and Will were now talking by the carriage. She heard one of them laugh. No explosive fistfights today, then.

“Thank you, but no. It is only right that the cottage be turned over to a military family. I will find something soon.” Clara smiled faintly down at Edwin. “I never realized how fortunate I was until one day, everything changed.”

“Despite your hardships and loss, you are lucky right now. You have something money cannot buy.” Angelika kissed Edwin’s cheek goodbye, loving how he clasped her face in his moist little hands. “You have this angel. Aunt Angelika adores you, Winnie.”

Would this fatherless baby boy grow into a desperate teen, forced to break into manor homes to survive and support his mother? Her heart turned sorrowfully in her chest. How black and white her life had once been.

Clara still had her sad look. “Things change, and regret is forever. A mistake might hang on your wall and haunt you all your life.”

Angelika heard her warning but chose to answer cheerfully. “If you need some help looking at houses, I can accompany you to help forge a good deal. I’m quite a fearsome negotiator.”

The men heard Angelika’s boast as the ladies made their way to the carriage. “Look out,” Christopher joked. “What I wouldn’t pay to witness that conversation between Angelika Frankenstein and a landlord. It would be better than theater.”

“I can picture it myself,” Will said. “She’d be standing in the chicken coop inquiring after the servants’ quarters and croquet lawn.”

“Perhaps the carriage would have room to turn if the outdoor privy were relocated,” Christopher added in a mock-thoughtful tone.

Will pointed to a half-dead shrub. “This may be formed into the shape of a swan, with a little skill.”

Clara decided to try. “Is the upstairs of the cottage located elsewhere?”

“Ha, ha, aren’t you all just a hilarious group of people,” Angelika said as everybody roared heartily at her expense, even Edwin. “I’m so glad my haute bourgeois can be so amusing. You’ll see, Clara. I can be useful. I will say goodbye on behalf of Victor and Lizzie. It’s a shame she wasn’t here to enjoy this dramatic performance.”

“Where did they disappear to?” Clara asked, puzzled.

Will fielded that. “They are reading poetry.” Angelika scowled. Her brother was taking increasingly long “rest breaks” in between his searching of the surrounding forests and ravines. She made a mental note to push him harder on it.

Christopher took Angelika’s hand and kissed it. “Thank you for such a lovely cup of tea. Think about what I put to you.” The touch of his lips on her skin stirred the sparks between them. “Should you ever desire to read poetry with me, I am your willing servant. Here, Clara, let me take Edwin while you step in.”

He opened the carriage door and sat the baby on one forearm. Then he turned to let Angelika see how the future might look.

“A dirty military tactic,” Will told him.

“All’s fair,” Christopher replied.

“Good to know,” Will said. “See you the next time you can fit a visit up here into your busy schedule. Happy hunting, Commander.” They watched the carriage depart.

“You heard him, didn’t you? Asking me to kiss him?” She caught Will’s elbow, forcing him to turn.

“I did.” He was bland, and remembering his laughs with his rival sparked her temper. Imagine if Lizzie had been here to witness that quickly fizzling jealousy.

“How I’d like to see some goddamn fire from you.”

Will stopped. “What were you hoping for? A violent fight in a house that is not mine, with furniture smashed, and bones broken? In front of your guest, a very nice woman with a baby?”

She gritted her teeth. “No, of course not.”

“You want to be flattered.” Will’s eyes were sharp on hers. “You want to witness how badly two men want you. You would watch us bloody our fists, pretending to be offended. Typical Angelika, wanting to be adored by a lover beyond sense.”

The flippant words said to Clara hung in the air like mist. Who loves me best, do you think?

“I will begin to think you do not care for me. Show me! Fight for me in your own way!”

“You think I am not?” He took a few steps toward her. “It costs me dearly to deal with every moment of my new life. I take these types of feelings and I place them somewhere deep, where they cannot bubble out. I do this because otherwise they will kill me.”

“I did not realize—”

“I am not speaking figuratively, Angelika. I believe I have a limited amount of life force running through my veins. Everything costs me. I have to control myself more than you will ever know, and having your husband number five walking around this house, looking at you like he’d devour you whole, is draining me dry.”

She thought of his dizzy spell while gardening. “Have you talked to Victor?”

Will sneered. “Any ordinary man would thrash him for what he asks in the name of science, but of course, I am anything but ordinary. Or am I? And now I find myself in a romantic experiment, one I have apparently failed today, because I had the decency of controlling myself and trusting you to not be tempted by perfection incarnate.”

She was frustrated with his evasion. “Is your health growing worse? Answer me.”

“I grow tired of being a test subject. I can no longer endure it.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“And I shall not. I am going to the village, to continue trying to find out about myself. I am only disappointed at how little empathy you have shown for me. I hope you had a pleasant time today.” He turned and walked toward the stables.

Angelika was left behind to sit on the front stairs, alone.

* * *

Angelika had an apology burning in her chest, but because she could not cough it out, and nobody wanted to hear it, she went into the forest at sunset.

She took with her a basket of fruit, bread, a sausage, cheeses, and a knife. Over her shoulder she carried a waterskin, and her arm ached from the weight of a wool blanket. She went to the clearing where she had first found the huge, lost man.

As she was setting out her gift on a fallen log, she noticed something.

On the ground, where her body had disturbed the golden leaves, was a wilted bunch of flowers.