Angelika Frankenstein Makes Her Match(45)

Angelika patted the broom she had brought along. “I shall protect you.”

Will was halfway through hacking away the ivy that had taken hold of the side of the house. In the background, a few local boys he’d hired were cutting, pruning, digging, and burning. There was even someone on a ladder, painting the window casings. From another open window, one of the new chambermaids was beating dust from a rug. From this exact spot, lying on the cut grass, Angelika could see the shape of the house reemerging, and it struck her as a kind of reclaimed dignity for the old building.

It also made her miss her parents.

“What’s this old book?” Lizzie asked, picking up the leather-bound book that Angelika had brought outside. She read the spine. “Institutiones Rei Herbariae by Tournefort. Oh. It’s botany.” She gave the pages a cursory flip to admire the illustrations of blooms, buds, and pods.

“It’s a present for Will. I’m taking a guess that it’s what he’s been searching for when he walks in his sleep. This is his passion.” Angelika took it back before Lizzie could read her inscription.

To my love: One day I will write your true name here.

With all that I am,

I am always,

your Angelika.

Will bent down to gather vines from the ground, but when he straightened he put a hand on the wall, the greenery dropping back down. His shoulders were rising and falling on deep breaths.

“Are you all right?” Angelika called, but he shook his head in irritation and ignored her. “He looks like he’s about to faint.”

Lizzie nudged her back to the conversation. “I know Will was your work, because Vic can’t do what you do. You’re more clever than you realize. Promise me if Belladonna trips me on the staircase and breaks my neck, you’ll bring me back, too.”

Will was still bent over and struggling in some way. Angelika laid the book aside and debated getting to her feet.

“There is a risk of total memory loss, be warned. You’d have to fall in love with Vic all over again. Maybe you’ll choose someone more normal next time around.”

Lizzie sniggered. “I doubt it. I could tell you things about your brother that would scar you. He is utterly . . .” She searched for an appropriate word for an uncomfortably long time, settling on: “Inventive.”

“I beg you, please, do not ever, ever elaborate. I don’t know how you bear to kiss his apple breath.”

Angelika was lying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows. She was glad of Lizzie’s company, which only seemed possible when Victor was riding his horse in the forest, searching for his creation. And even then, Lizzie just wanted to drone on and on about her brother. People in love were tedious.

She watched Will resume work. Her chest was still tight from fright; was he often feeling dizzy? “What else has Vic told you about Will?”

“I can see for myself that he is very handsome. Oh, don’t get those sharp eyes with me.” Lizzie exhaled heavily on her new diamond ring and polished it on her neckline. It was apparently a frequent impulse. “Are you sure you don’t mind me having this?” She’d been awkward since Victor mentioned that the ring had previously resided in Angelika’s jewelry box.

“Quite sure.”

“Because I can give it back.” Even as Lizzie said that, her hand curled into a fist. It would be cut from her cold dead finger.

To Angelika, that ring looked like a lump of glass. She had no idea why Lizzie loved it so. “Since the moment he met you, it’s always been yours. It looked hideous on me, and perfect on you.” She smiled as Lizzie leaned against her in silent thanks. Larkspur Lodge flashed behind her eyes when she blinked. “Back to the topic. Will is desperately handsome, and perfectly endowed. I made sure of it.”

Lizzie snorted. “He thinks you are rather beautiful, and he’s right. You glow with a new magic, fairy queen. I have never seen you look so well.” She rubbed a hand between Angelika’s shoulder blades. “The gardening lads think so, too.”

Angelika reapplied herself to shredding dandelions into sour-smelling piles of yellow. “Yes, he does find me fair, but he doesn’t remember any other women. I am his current and only favorite.”

Lizzie kept going. “You are of marrying age.”

“Maybe too old.”

“You’re not. When he kisses you, you feel like pulling his clothes off.” Lizzie tossed a dandelion in Angelika’s face.

“Definitely yes.”

Lizzie revealed her point: “And you are spending your time attempting to find his wife. I don’t understand it. He should be crawling on hands and knees to win you.” She raised her voice on this last part, and Will’s head turned. “Good, he should listen,” Lizzie grumbled, putting her forearm across her eyes.

Angelika bristled with protectiveness. “Leave him be.”

“I hate seeing you this way, Jelly. You are in your old pattern of falling in love with men who will never notice or return it. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that ancient bookbinder.”

Angelika screeched, “You swore we’d never speak of it!”

A boy up a ladder dropped his paint tin.

Lizzie continued. “Will is a handsome, polite man, but I don’t see any fire in his heart. You need someone who will fight to the death for you, and I’m sorry, my dear, but I think that person will be Commander Keatings.”