“Sadly, no.” Victor dropped into his seat with a groan. “I nearly had him in the orchard, but he was moving uphill quite fast. I followed the screams for a long time, but it’s rocky ground.”
“Will you keep looking?” Angelika passed a basket of bread to her brother. “He’s completely defenseless out there.”
“I will find him. I just need to eat, saddle Athena, and find a new boot.”
“There’s a new pair in the bottom of your closet.” Angelika gestured now to Will. “He’s so handsome, he can make even your clothes look respectable, Vic.”
“Thank you for the loan,” Will said. Angelika noticed that he acknowledged every courtesy another person did for him.
Angelika sat up straighter, and when Mary came back through with a pot of butter, she thanked her graciously. She received a suspicious side-eye in reply.
Victor replied to Will, “The clothes? Don’t mention it. Jelly will get us more.” He yawned, but then refocused on his sister’s face with sharp interest. His green-eyed stare, so similar to hers, was unnerving. “How did you get that bruise?”
Angelika glanced reflexively to Will, the bump of the laboratory’s window frame a tender remembrance of his instant rejection.
Victor fixed him with a death glare, gripping his knife. “You did that to her?”
“It was an accident, and I’m very sorry, Angelika,” Will said with genuine remorse. “I’m still figuring out this new body, and I was careless. What felt like a mild reaction became something stronger.”
“It’s those blacksmith shoulders,” Victor observed, relaxing down in his seat. “Well, I hope you were gentle to her last night,” Victor said, assessing Angelika afresh. “Was it everything you were hoping for?”
“Nothing happened.” She transmitted with her eyes: Drop it.
“What are you hoping for?” Will asked.
Ignoring her glare, Victor said cheerfully, “You, my friend, were created purely for Miss Angelika Frankenstein’s personal use. She was going to bonk you halfway back to the grave.”
“Shut. Up. Victor.” Angelika’s cheeks were crimson. “I was not. You are contributing to scientific advancement, Will.”
Will’s complexion did not betray a blush, but his eyes darted between the Frankenstein siblings, trying to make sense of this teasing.
Victor continued. “Now that my own fantastic achievement is probably halfway to Glasgow, I might need to borrow you for a few scientific assessments.” At Will’s expression, Victor brayed heartily. “Don’t get the wrong idea; it will all be proper. I have a nemesis named Jürgen Schneider, and he is about to become very depressed by my skill.”
“Personal use?” Will was caught on that earlier detail. “I’m sure I misunderstand you.”
Victor replied, “You understand correctly. Jelly, I will need a full account of how you resurrected him by yourself. We will run some tests. This justifies a new microscope nicely.” He was beaming at the thought.
Will seemed to be grappling with this revelation when he looked at Angelika. His pupils were dilated, turning his brown eyes almost black, reminding her of last night and how he scented her neck like they were animal mates. “Why not just go down to the village and find a living volunteer?”
“She’s tried that many times,” Victor said with all the tact of a brother. “She has practically gone to Salisbury on market day and put herself into the livestock auctions. No buyers.”
She begged, “Please, just leave it.”
Will gave his observations. “Angelika, you are very fair, with your striking coloring.”
“Thank you,” Victor replied on her behalf, for he shared the exact same rippled waves of honey-red hair. “I once received an anonymous love letter, describing my eyes as ‘celadon gateways into sunlit fields of sage.’”
“That’s terrible writing and makes no sense,” Angelika said, looking at her own reflection in a spoon. Even in daylight, with his decorum restored, Will still thought her very fair? Encouraging. “You probably wrote a love letter to yourself.”
“Ask Lizzie. She’ll tell you.”
“I have no idea what she sees in you. And I don’t wish to know.”
Will continued to address Angelika. “You are clever enough to defeat the laws of living and dead. This grand house, and what I imagine is a fine dowry, would be an inducement.”