Angelika Frankenstein Makes Her Match(73)
She kept her composure. Will’s arm around her waist was tight. “Follow us now, and I will get your dinner basket. Do you ever see my brother, Victor? He is searching for you, too. He has the same color hair as mine, and his horse is a gray mare.”
“I see him everywhere. Every day.”
“You see? We never threw you away. We have been desperate to find you.”
The big man swallowed with emotion in his eyes and followed them for a silent minute. Then he said, “Granny is hungry, and she is angry with me all the time. She doesn’t like how I eat. Or how I breathe, or smell.” The way he winced was all too familiar.
The last rays of sun filtered through the leaves, and then everything became illuminated. “Please ask Granny to give you a name,” Angelika told him. “She’s good at that.”
Will had not connected the dots. “Who is this Granny? I would like to meet her.”
It was apparently the last question the man could tolerate.
“Why? So you can take her, when you already have the pretty one? Brother, you are always trying to take and steal!” Swiping his club against some branches, he stormed off into the yews, invisible in five seconds. The forest fell silent.
Will was bewildered. “What just happened?”
Angelika said wearily, “He’s got Mary.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Once upon a time, Angelika Frankenstein yearned for adventure. If her past self could have seen her now, she would have let out a cheer. Finally, something is happening!
Action. Excitement. Romance.
She was astride Percy, cantering down the long manor drive toward the village, flanked by Victor and Will, with her silk-lined cloak flowing behind her. It was a dramatic production, directed by Lizzie. She had waved them goodbye, and then vomited pitifully into an urn of geraniums.
Angelika had never felt as determined, or alive. It was worth noting that her mirror had also confirmed she looked very well indeed today, despite her patchy night’s sleep.
But the gnawing worry in her gut over Mary ruined the moment.
She knew that the horseback tableau was impressive, because Christopher was waiting astride his horse at the front gates, and his expression was something like disbelief. As she reined Percy in, Angelika asked Christopher, “What is it?”
“I’m just surprised, every time I see you. I always think you can’t possibly be as beautiful as I remember, and then you appear and . . .” Christopher made a helpless gesture, like he was out of words. His shyness made her heart quiver.
She understood how he felt. She could look at Christopher all day long.
When Angelika glanced to Will on her left, she could see he was irritated. “I see her day and night. She is always this beautiful.” His voice had not lost its possessive growl from the hillside the day previous. “But beauty is only skin deep, and not an achievement. There is more than meets the eye when it comes to Angelika.”
Christopher opened his mouth but was cut off before he started speaking.
“Yes, yes, very good,” Victor said loudly. “Courting, complimenting, competing, et cetera. Can we return to that later? We have a family emergency.”
Christopher still had the note from their messenger in his hand and held it up. “Your servant has been taken by the beast. I rode after breakfast, with no men, as you have specified.”
“He is no beast, but a man, and she is the closest we have to a grandmother,” Angelika corrected. “She is out there somewhere with the man, probably living in the forest, or in a cave somewhere.”
“Is she the emerald thief?” Christopher asked, and Angelika was forced to shrug and nod. “Are we sure they have not colluded?”
Victor answered that. “Until we speak to her in person, and make sure she’s all right, we are not sure of anything.”
“We all need to be aware of a new fact,” Will said. “That man is thinking about taking Angelika; he told me as much. And if he does, it will be hard to stop him.”
Christopher’s only reply was to lift one side of his jacket to reveal a pistol.
Will shook his head. “That gives me no comfort, because he can hide, and stalk. He blends so well into the trees he could be here right now and we would not see him.” This statement caused them to all look around themselves, and the horses grew spooked.
Victor covered his fear by saying, “He’d give her back within the hour.”
Will was not amused. “He told Angelika that he has been watching her, sometimes from close range, and thinks she is pretty, nice-smelling, and has soft hair.”
Angelika tugged fussily at her suede gloves. “I don’t like to brag.”
Victor stood up in his stirrups. “I think he meant ‘pretty smelly-looking.’”
“This isn’t a joke,” Christopher said, clicking into his military persona. “So, he will look for opportunities where she is outdoors and alone. Probably nighttime, when he can blend in. What else do we know?”
“He won’t eat meat,” Angelika volunteered. “He’s got quite a few survival supplies by now: blankets, French blackberry soap, candles, a knife, a flint, a waterskin, a copy of Paradise Lost, and a nice book on oriental woodblock art.”
Christopher asked, with strained patience, knowing the answer: “And how does he have those things?” He looked to Will now. “Another man who does not eat meat. Very strange. I’ve only ever met one in my lifetime. Now two?” His crystal-blue eyes narrowed.