In her gilt frame, Caroline Frankenstein agreed with this new plan.
“He won’t notice or care.” She grimaced, imagining Mary in the black, dusty basement, then realized it was probably the first time she’d worried for the old woman. Mary had always seemed so capable. Angelika used her best mistress voice. “With Lizzie no doubt arriving soon, and Will joining us for as long as he’s able, we need to hire you a chambermaid to supervise. We also need a footman, a cook, a stablehand, a groundsman—”
“Slow yourself,” Mary said, but she was not displeased. “Maybe a maid would ease the load. Someone young to run up and down stairs. I could ask my older sister, who runs the boardinghouse, if she knows of anyone suitable who could be trusted to be discreet.”
“An older sister?” Angelika echoed in horror, reflecting on how positively ancient she must be. “I didn’t even know you had a sister.”
“You never asked,” Mary said, but she was smiling as she gestured to the silk nightgown. “Now, slink about in that, be a good lass.”
Angelika shook her head as Will’s door opened at the end of the hallway. “Please, Mary.” Too late. The old woman had walked off.
“What’s happening?” Will asked as he approached. He was in his nightclothes and an embroidered burgundy robe, his hair towel-dried and ruffled attractively. He smelled like citrus soap.
Angelika sighed. “Mary has decided to stock my drawers with only negligees in the hopes I could pique your interest. Utter nonsense.”
“Very sly,” Will agreed mildly, barely glancing at the silk she’d awkwardly hung on the stair rail. He’d overcome his spontaneous erection issues, because he stood easy in her presence. “Whoever furnished my closet did very well, thank you.”
His praise was deeply gratifying. “It was me, of course. Victor doesn’t buy his own clothes unless I drag him to the tailor. When Lizzie finally marries him, I’ll have one less wardrobe to worry about.” Her glum tone betrayed her. “Where is he?”
“He’s putting his horse away.”
“All of this endless searching. He will make himself sick.”
“You’d leave me out there?” Will asked.
“Of course not.” She could not resist folding down the lapel of his robe. “I would not come home until I had you.”
She’d loved the task of shopping for Will and had spent half a day choosing shirt materials alone. She had paid handsomely for seamstresses to work night and day. It had felt like a wifely duty, and she’d pretended thus to the clerk, even as the thought followed her around the shop: A lovely man like this is likely already married.
He was an outstanding houseguest: unobtrusive, polite, and tidy. Any casual observer would believe him to be an old family friend. He turned every conversation deftly back to his companion. The way he listened was intoxicating. Victor had already declared him as the finest fellow I ever met, because he now had a captive audience.
Angelika smiled at him. “You will have to come to town, to be measured for your winter wardrobe.”
“I won’t be here by then.” Will hesitated, and then said, “I still think I understand this situation incorrectly. Your part in all this, and why you . . . made me. It makes no sense. I can’t sleep for thinking about it.”
“I wanted my own project, to prove my skill to Victor, to make history, and to assist humanity—” She broke off when Will raised a doubting eyebrow. “And should he be a handsome man, even better. I like beautiful things, and trust me, you are everything I like best. But in terms of your use, I had no designs. I just thought that—”
“Please, speak plainly,” Will cut in. “To not hate you for doing this to me, I need to understand.”
“Hate?” But she did deserve it. “What have I done to you?”
“The pain is hard to bear. Imagine a wooden stake,” he said, touching a finger to her shoulder joint, “pressed deep here, and here”—he touched her elbow—“here, here, here”—wrist and two knuckles. “I feel every bend and every joint. Every movement is an agony, and I’m very cold.”
She ignored the pleasure she took from his fingertip. “Would you like more laudanum?”
“I should work to become accustomed to this, or I might drink the bottle daily. Please, just let me understand why, Angelika.” He allowed her to take his hand and watched as she began massaging it. The soft leather of his palm was familiar to her now, and his cold fingers uncurled as she worked with her thumbs, pushing, loosening.
Grateful for the busy task, she said to his hand, “I made you the way you are, so ideal to me in every way, because I thought you might be here awhile, recuperating, and we might form a connection. The last suitor to call was over a year ago, and Victor is no longer helping me. Time is marching on, and I found a wrinkle by my eye here—” She showed him, but he smiled, like she was charming. “And time drips by, slow as treacle, up here on this hill.”
“Victor asked to—” Will stumbled on how to word it. “He asked to use me, to make Schneider jealous. A trip to Munich was part of it. I declined, and he accepted it without question. I don’t understand why he didn’t throw me out. I’m no use to anyone.”
She changed to his other hand. “Your only occupation is to recover and rest. And if he tosses you out, I shall pack a bag and keep you company. He will want to have the house for himself and Lizzie.”
“He would never toss you out. Is that a terrible outcome, to remain here? You will never want for anything.”
“I will want.”
Their fingers slipped together, linked, and squeezed.
“I am beginning to understand. Loneliness is a pain all of its own.” He seemed to be able to see straight into her most secret thoughts, and she felt them unspooling. She released his hand, and, leaning his shoulder on the wall, he invited: “Tell me more about your plans for us.”
Was this her final chance to explain her offer? “I would dress you in the finest clothing, fill your pockets with gold pieces. Ships, and horses, and carriages. Spices, tapestries, wine.”
His dark eyebrow lifted. “As someone who has been dead, then back again, I can say with certainty that I don’t need those things.”
She was hot inside her clothes, and her fingertips still glowed from rubbing his skin. “We would travel to every city and country I could think of, eating, drinking, and sleeping to excess.”
He shrugged, nonplussed.
Irritation made her bold. “I was going to find out exactly what gave you pleasure, and I was going to give you that pleasure. I would never want for anything again.” She saved him the awkwardness of a rejection and added, “But as you have said, you have no need of these things.”
“I often do. Without my memory, I am only my body.” He maintained his steady composure, even as he said, “My body wants you wildly, and it scares me.” He offered his hand, seeking her attentions again, but then swiftly realized and pocketed it.
“I think you should seek Victor’s counsel regarding this.”
“I did. He told me to have a few good tugs to clear the system. Those are his words, not mine.”
Angelika gaped. “And?” She grabbed up the silk nightgown on the pretense of shaking it out.
“It didn’t help. I’m sure you can sympathize. Wanting so much, as you do.” He looked at the silk in her hand and watched her pull it slowly across her palm.
Did the moon fall from the sky, and did the candles dim? Was this hall always so dark and secluded? She tried to stay in the conversation. “I keep myself well-tended. If you had been keen, you would have been a nice big happy addition to my life, and bed. But I can carry on, as before.”
He was adorably flustered. “I think we have struck upon why you are unmarried. No man alive can handle this level of honesty.”
“That is precisely why I searched for a perfect dead man.” To see what he would do, she shook out the negligee to admire the lace. “Do men even like such things?”
He would never give an answer. “Did you know there is a purse of coins on my dresser?”
“It’s your freedom, to take, any time you want it.”
He appeared skeptical. “So if I wished, I could pick it up and walk out, without a goodbye or any fuss? I’ve seen your brother searching so frantically for his lost creation. Aren’t I your only proof of his technique?”
“We don’t think of you as proof. You’re our friend. And if you did leave, I would hope you would say goodbye first.” Angelika was not sure if she meant it. If he walked away, she’d likely follow, if only to ensure he landed in a safe situation. But this was what she had agreed with Victor, and she quoted his words now: “We don’t believe in caging up beings who do not wish to stay.”
“Is that why you have a pig on the loose?” Will grinned at a memory. “I had the fright of my life when I saw it, up on hind legs, looking through the kitchen window.”
“That’s Belladonna. She’s in love with Victor.”
“She doesn’t know he’s engaged?”