Angelika Frankenstein Makes Her Match(63)

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.”