Angelika Frankenstein Makes Her Match(83)

“Who is this?” the voice above her head asked. “Is this the man you said wanted to kill me? Drop it,” he added, and Christopher had no choice but to cast the pistol away. “You have been searching for me in the forest, with my father.”

Christopher sneered. “Father? Brother? You are mad. Let her go.”

“How’s Granny Mary?” Angelika tilted her face around. “She’s all right, isn’t she? What did she name you?”

He had a hint of a smile underneath the long-suffering expression. “She named me Adam, after the first man created. And also after her baby, who died. Granny Mary is quite all right. Don’t,” he added in a warning when Christopher stepped closer, itching to wrench Angelika away. “No closer.”

“Let them talk,” Will told Christopher in his calm tone. “No harm will come to her, clearly.” He indicated the pile of men. “Step back a little with me.”

“I cannot.” Christopher was unraveling before their eyes. He raked at his perfect hair, he rolled up his cuffs; he was creased and crumpled within an inch of his life. He turned on Will viciously. “You coward. You’d walk away from this? Look at her, and the size of him. Angelika. Tell me to fight, Angelika, I beg you!”

She shook her head. “There’s no need.”

His sense of purpose denied, he deflated.

Will told Christopher, “This is out of our control now. It is up to them to decide how this ends. She can handle this.” He took Christopher’s arm and dragged his unwilling frame back a few yards into the line of shadow.

“They both love you,” Adam whispered close to her ear. “But one loves you so much more.”

Angelika turned in his hold and put her hands on his forearms. “Do you need anything? Food, clothes? I can have things made for you. Anything you want.”

“Granny Mary told me to ask you for a pair of glasses. For me. Not her. Her eyesight is still perfect, thank you very much.”

Angelika laughed. “I miss her so much. When can she come back and visit?”

“Whenever she wants to,” Adam said, puzzled. “But she said not until you’re scared to death and have learned your lesson.”

“Consider this to be that moment.” Angelika took his hand in hers. She turned it over.

Pure gold is unmistakable and irresistible to fairy queens. Even on a clouded night, with hardly a moon, gold has a glow that has fueled empires and inspired unremarkable men to do extraordinary things. The ring on Adam’s beautiful, deathly hand (Will’s hand? Arlo’s?) was just that pure.

“I’m not stealing it,” she told him as she rubbed her thumbs across it, feeling the lines.

“I know now that you won’t,” Adam said, and he sounded so tender. Will continued to watch, but Christopher could no longer bear it and went off to pace the rows of apples, pulling at his hair, ranting to himself about how unbelievable and untenable this situation was.

“I can’t see it.” Frustration began to build in her. It was just too dark, and her lantern was currently smoldering in the distance near a rabbit carcass. “Adam, I can’t see.”

“There’s a candle on my windowsill,” Will offered. He turned and walked away, giving them the dignity of his trust. They followed, and he heard her begin to limp on her bare foot. Will stopped and bent low for her to climb onto his back.

“Come on, Adam,” Angelika said, wrapping her arms around her love’s shoulders. “Let’s take a look at this ring.”

The cottage came into view, a white cloud in the dark. The next thing they saw was Clara, wrapped in a coat. “Christopher, thank heavens,” she cried out, and ran the short distance to him, her breaths jarring in her chest. “I heard the most dreadful noises.”

Her desperate eyes were locked on his face, not seeing anyone else, and it reminded Angelika of herself, running to Will. Adam had performed his trick of melting into the shadows and shapes of the night.

“It’s all right.” Christopher was gratified to hear one woman cry his name. He put out his arms and she burrowed gratefully into him. “Don’t cry. Will’s got Angelika. Everything’s all right. Let’s go inside. Now, next time, you need to stay inside with your door locked.”

They really did look so nice together.

Will sat Angelika on the windowsill beside the candle and leaned beside her legs. He seemed depleted, and his breathing was heavy. “Adam?” he asked the night.

“Yes, brother?” Adam made them both jump by how close he was.

“Please, let me see your ring.”

A hand began to slide into the candle’s circle of light. There was the first spark. Gold this pure was magical. It dazzled their eyes. Adam stepped closer, and now it was done. The reflections off the gold slowed, then stilled, and everything became clear.

Well, sort of.

Angelika was initially stumped by how blank the crest was. It was just four unevenly sized squares, with nothing punctuating the smooth gold. No gemstones, no Latin engraving. It was plain and wasn’t what she would have chosen for Will at all.

But then, she followed Will’s tracing fingertip.

Dividing the ring were the two deep lines of a cross.





Chapter Thirty


Angelika preferred Will’s cottage to Blackthorne Manor.