Page 48 of Angelika Frankenstein Makes Her Match
Lizzie patted her notebook, titledIDEAS FOR PLAYS. “When you find your role, the rest of your life will fall into place. I promise you.”
“I don’t like to ask for anything, but if you should decide that six hours is so very far away—”
“You wish to have Larkspur.” Lizzie clasped her hand on Angelika’s. “I will talk to Victor. It would be my honor to see that gift go to you. But in exchange, I wish for you to be open to being courted, by either man. Let them compete. And think of what meaningful occupation you will take up in your new home. That is our deal. Promise me.”
With larkspurs in her hands, Angelika found herself saying, “I promise.”
Chapter Fifteen
Angelika knew her brother very well, because as soon as their dinner guests finished eating dessert, Victor threw down his napkin and said: “Let’s go outside. My colleagues have told me there is a high chance of star showers tonight. It is too dull to sit indoors like our fathers did. Ladies, too. Get your cloak, Lizzie.” At the doorway, he hollered, “Mary! I say, Mary!”
“Already bringing it,” Mary said with a bottle of liquor under each arm and a tray of crystal tumblers. She knew Victor well, too.
“I shall light a bonfire,” Victor told the small assembly. “I have some Chinese firecrackers, too, and a huge piece of cheese. We shall make up ghost stories and have a laugh.”
As they all pushed back their chairs, Angelika watched Christopher. If he found this outdoor sojourn odd, he didn’t show it—except for a flicker in his eyes that might have been frustration. He had probably been counting on adjourning for brandy as an opportunity to corner and cross-examine Will.
Angelika watched Christopher, and Will watched Angelika.
The entire evening had been both pleasant and tense.
Christopher had arrived early with an enormous bouquetof flawless hothouse roses that Angelika had dutifully admired for approximately one second before looking back to the carriage, where her other dinner guest, Clara Hoggett, was emerging, with a very important package.
“Give him here,” Angelika had begged, arms up, and the bouquet was completely forgotten in favor of the baby. Luckily, Christopher had laughed good-naturedly, saying, “She’s mad over this little chap.”
Will leaned against the porch in shadow and did not initially come over to admire Edwin. When pressed to do so, he had offered a tense half smile and let the tot hold on to his finger. The heart-stopping, womb-squeezing moment was merely an illusion, but Angelika snatched it and sewed it into a momentary reality, one where she was also a good person.
Inviting Clara had not been an act of kindness, but one of selfishness.
Angelika forgot everyone in the room except Edwin. She talked only to him, in cooing nonsensical prattle. She had sat with him on her lap for the entire first course, kissing his head while he played with her spoon and her soup went cold. The smell of his flossy hair was a drug stronger than opium. He was heavy and humid, and she loved him to distraction. At some point, he’d started to sob, and Clara took him away to change him and let him nap in his basket in the drawing room. Angelika had almost cried herself.
When she blinked herself out of this haze to be fully present for the first time, she noticed that things were not going as she had planned. For example:
She had arranged the seating to keep Will and Christopher apart; but someone (Lizzie) had switched them to be sitting opposite each other like chess opponents, with Angelika between them at the head of the table. Christopher had taken onthe burden of keeping conversation running and had repeatedly tried to engage Will in various topics, but his answers were short.
Christopher: “What county did you grow up in, Sir Black?”
Will: “I shouldn’t think you’d know it.”
Christopher: “And your parents? Are they still with us?”
Will: “Both passed, sadly.”
Christopher: “The roast beef not to your liking?”
Will: “I do not eat meat.”
Christopher: “Any particular reason?”
Will: “It smells like death.”
Clara had been quiet and deferential, staring around the enormous dining room with worried eyes, and she tried to cover as much of her threadbare dress as possible with her napkin.
Lizzie and Victor had drunk too much. They frequently dropped their voices to a whisper, then broke into dirty chuckles. Victor was distracted by Lizzie’s low neckline, and she knew it. He never finished a sentence, and twice left his seat to look out the window because he thought he’d seen bats.
The Frankensteins were not good hosts. But it was not too late to turn things around.
Now, as they all put on warm clothing to go outside, Clara approached Angelika. “Thank you so much again for inviting me. And thank you again for your kind deliveries. The ham is as delicious as you said, and your apples are the best I’ve ever had.”
