Angelika Frankenstein Makes Her Match

She saw it through his eyes and had to agree. Without Victor’s brash apple-chewing presence, it seemed far worse. There were rows of motionless bodies stretched out on tables around them, and rats were at the edges of her vision. Fear began to tighten her limbs, until she could hardly take a step.

“I’ll be quick,” she told Will, but her eyes were unseeing as she went to the first table. There was no other face she could be interested in when Will stood behind her so close. When his hands slid around her waist, her grip on the lantern shook.

“Don’t let the candle burn out,” Will cried in terror, clinging to her. “Don’t leave me here.”

She put her hand over his and squeezed. “Haven’t I already proved that I will never leave you here?”

His arms hugged her, tighter-tighter-tighter. Was this emotion, or his newfound strength? To have someone hold her so desperately was worth having no air in her lungs. They fit together exquisitely, tall and small. When he spoke, it was with an endearment. “My love, show me where I was when we met.”

“This table.” They walked as a pair and then looked down at the mottled-gray middle-aged man laid out before them. “I saw you and I thought . . .”

“What?” Will prompted after seconds passed. He put his face into her hair and inhaled deeply. Proof of his ardency nudged her bottom. “Your hair smells incredible.”

Romance happened in unexpected places for Angelika Frankenstein.

She continued after a swallow. “I saw your face and you looked so indignant. Like your final thought was How bloody dare they! I lifted your eyelid, and I thought you looked at me.”

“Perhaps I did.” Will sounded like he was smiling.

“I got the fright of my life and had to check you for breath. Victor’s theory is you were not long dead, and that’s why I got you back. That night I . . . asked you something.”

“What did you ask?”

“If you wished to come back.” She turned in his arms, the lantern swinging by their knees. “I felt like you said yes, somehow.”

“Of that, I am certain I did. I finally understand the magnitude of what you did for me. I am indebted to you for the rest of my life.”

He caught her chin gently in his cool hand, lifted her face, and pressed a kiss on her mouth. It felt like that moment all over again: a magical swirl of wind and a deep surety that this was right. Yes, yes, yes. Love me back. Just as surprise parted her lips, he broke their kiss and said, “Thank you for choosing me, when you could have anyone.”

“You can thank your own handsome face for catching my eye. In all the trips I’d made here, you were the only one to take my breath away.”

“I’m handsome enough to inspire you to make a husband? How kind.” He gently wound some hair away from her face. The clean smell of his wrist was a welcome relief. “I apologize that your plan did not succeed.”

How easy it must be for him to be so assured of her devotion, while simultaneously telling her that she meant nothing. He was standing very much like an adoring husband right now, when the fact was, he probably belonged to some other lucky wench.

Not noticing how stiff she’d become, he added, “Our trip was not a complete waste. Now we can investigate the military academy.”

Not a complete waste? She’d just had her first kiss. The desire to hurt him made her say: “You weren’t my first attempt at a suitor. You were number four.”

Will removed his hands from her. “Fourth?”

“What does it matter?” She paced away, pinching her nose against the smell. He did not move to follow. “You thought you were my first and only, and it flattered you.”

“I am fourth?”

“In reality, you are at the back of a long queue of men who would not take me on. You know that good feeling you just had? How nice it felt to be special to someone? Please realize I have never experienced that feeling in return.”

Uncaring if he was following, she marched to the doorway to relinquish the lantern. There were several students leaning against the wall, waiting their turn. “Anyone good this evening, Miss F?” Davey Gurney asked around his pipe.

“There’s not, for she carries nothing in her hands,” the man behind him said bitterly. “The Frankensteins get first pick of everything.” He fell silent when Will appeared behind her.

“I am going to the tavern. You may do as you wish, Will.” Angelika untied her horse, wrestling with her emotions. “Leg me up.” He did, and she had half a mind to canter off before he could follow.

“Careful, miss,” Davey called. “Rogues out tonight in the village.”

“They’d be more scared of her,” someone shouted, and the entire queue roared with laughter. Angelika was near tears, and she pulled on her riding gloves. Will’s words echoed louder in her ears. Our trip was not a complete waste.

“I daresay you should be frightened of her, for her intellect is more than all of yours combined,” Will said, and the queue fell silent. “The things she can achieve will change the world.”

“Seems like she’s changed your world,” someone said. More raucous laughter followed.

“Undoubtedly.” Will mounted his horse, and in his profile, Angelika saw a well-bred, powerful man. “What a pathetic lot you are. Show some respect to Miss Frankenstein.”

“Brave enough to court her, are you, guv?”

“I’m not remotely worthy of her. Nobody is.” With that, Will overtook Angelika’s horse and they trotted together for some time without speaking. “We are returning home,” he said to her shortly. “I’ve had enough for one night. Do not even think about going to the tavern.”

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Still, she turned her horse to follow his. “Tell me more about your identical twin brother. Is he unmarried? Could I persuade him to kiss me, or would that be a total waste of an evening?”

“Ha,” Will replied with no humor. “You like having a ready replacement.”

“It hurts you to know you were not the first man I made,” she told him as she pushed Percy to a canter. “Lie in bed and think about why that is.”

“I lie in bed and think about you, wearing silk.” His words echoed across the fields, but there were only foxes and owls to overhear him. Their horses, headed toward home, began to pull and increase their pace. Both riders loosened their reins at the same time, and now they were racing.

Whyever not? Angelika thought as they pounded up the laneway. The horses want to run so badly, what’s the point in holding them back? It’s in their nature. And it was exhilarating, taking the inside position on corners, letting her smaller, nimble mount gain strides in those sharp, dangerous moments. She was furious with Will. He’d kissed her mouth as though he’d done so a thousand times before, an unthinking, instinctive thing; and she wasn’t even sure if he realized he’d done it. Her world had changed; his had not.

He was so measured, even in this dangerous race, it drove her mad. It was in the straights that Will’s horse made significant ground. As they were galloping up the wide carriage drive to the manor, he overtook her, and Angelika saw torchlight in the bushes on the library side of the manor.

“Will,” she called, reining her horse in. Everything was forgotten now. “There’s someone at the house.”





Chapter Seven


He slowed and circled, halting beside her, the horses blowing and snorting.

“Is it Mary?”

“She wouldn’t use a fire torch. Looks like the thieves from the village have noticed our absence.” Angelika unbuckled her saddlebag. When she produced her pepperbox pistol, the look Will gave her was a mix of horror and utter admiration of her self-sufficiency.

“What are you going to do?”

“We are looking after the house, as Victor charged us to do. Who knows, maybe my husband has delivered himself to me. I have six shots,” she added, holding up the expensive weapon, engraved with A.F., naturally.

“Shoot once into the air, to scare them. Angelika. Look at me. Promise you will not be rash.”

“I promise. We’ll ride behind the house, keep to the grass to stay quiet.”

The drawing room window was open, with a young man standing beneath it, holding his arms up for a bag that was being passed down.

“Oh, hello!” Angelika called out in a friendly voice, raising her arm. “You’re stealing from me, are you?” She shot into the sky and rode out Percy’s sideways spin. When she was facing the house again, there was only the abandoned bag beneath the window.

A window opened on the upper floor.

Mary’s face peered down at them. “Thank heavens you’re here, Master Will,” she said, completely ignoring the gun-toting Angelika. “There’s still one downstairs. I’m locked in my room. Come on, hurry up, get ’em out. I’ve got to heat your bathwater.” The window closed.

Will forcibly took the firearm from Angelika. “No more shots.”

Angelika found it deeply vexing that Mary had not considered her a savior. Abruptly, she was sick of everybody. “You can go and be the man of the house, like Victor wanted.” She scowled up at Mary’s window. “But please know this. I am not a helpless maiden.”

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