“This is my house, unless Athena bucks me off into a wall,” Victor said, biting into an apple.
It should have been flattering how bewildered Will was when he turned to her and asked, “How have you possibly remained unmarried?”
Instead, she imagined the subtext of the question was: What’s wrong with you?
“She’s got something about her,” Victor said slowly, answering the unasked, and it sent Angelika escaping to the window at the far end of the room, with a pastry in hand. “Something that the local men do not respond to. They want simple, straightforward women. Childbearing candidates. Good churchgoing sheep. Bland fair maids who know how to cook cabbage and whatnot. My sister is exceptional in every aspect, and they sense it. They know they cannot measure up to her, so they choose to laugh, or call her spinster, or witch.”
“Thank you, brother, how kind,” she replied with a tight throat, and looked outside the window. She did not feel very exceptional. Underneath the window stood a sow. Belladonna was tawny brown, spotted, big enough to saddle, and had a permanently hopeful countenance. One solitary piglet—a runt, slow to wean—was rooting around in the fallen leaves behind her.
Angelika opened the window and leaned down to feed the pig her pastry. “Victor, your secret admirer is here. The one who thinks your eyes are celadon gateways.”
“Tell her I’m not home.” Victor’s voice had the animal’s ears quirking up.
“But you are both wealthy,” Will said, valiantly staying on topic. “Surely she’s had countless suitors. Come back, Angelika, it’s all right.”
It was nice to be with someone who remained kind, instead of teasing like Victor. If she could, she’d sit on Will’s inviting lap and rest her face in his neck. Maybe he’d rub her back, up and down, until the loneliness subsided. Then, she might sit up, and he’d put his hand onto her jaw, encouraging a kiss—
Victor continued. “Suitors have come from miles away, from different towns, countries, and continents. They arrive in carriages to call, and to work out the extent of our fortune. The ones who are fervently religious are quickly shown the door. Others bore me to death. It is incredible to me how many men take no interest in science.”
“You aren’t finding yourself a husband,” Angelika reminded him dourly.
Victor grinned. “She then asks them very creative questions from a prepared sheet. They do not accept a second cup of tea.”
“I’ll take a second one,” Will said charitably, extending his cup.
Victor poured, and spilled. “She’s too focused on the end result of her love experiment. As a scientist, I tell her that unexpected things happen all the time. She’ll find her match. Frankensteins always do.” He considered Will at length. “Besides, she’s the only one I trust to be my assistant, and she does everything to my exact requirements.”
Will nodded. “I gathered that firsthand.”
They set about eating and chewing, like two relaxed friends. Angelika decided to wait by the window until her red face faded.
“How are you feeling?” Victor asked Will.
“Like I’ve been drinking spirits. I have a headache. I’m cold now, though your sister kept me warm all night.” Will said that last bit with a slice of humor. “I should tell you, I couldn’t keep her out of my bed.”
“My bed,” she corrected him, smiling.
“Of course,” he replied, sinking down lower into his seat. His countenance changed in an instant. “I believe there is no room for me in this house.”
“Mary is making up the room across the hall from mine, like we talked about. That shall be yours.” Angelika saw how he only relaxed when Victor nodded his assent. The man had a sparkle of sweat on his brow now. “We would not bring you into our home if you were not very much welcome.”
“I am grateful for such hospitality,” Will replied in a faint tone. So, this was a person who required his own guaranteed personal space? Angelika really should have slept across the hall last night, but the bed across the hall was unmade, cold, and had a bear costume on it. She’d slipped in on the edge of the mattress and stacked pillows between them to allow him some dignity.
They’d woken up wrapped in each other, the pillows thrown to the floor, her cheek tucked perfectly on his beefy shoulder. She’d looked up. Eye contact occurred next. Her nightdress had ridden up at some point, and her thigh was across his. His cock was harder than iron.