“I hope you don’t consider this impertinent,” he began after she sat, “but you do not strike me as the type to sit indoors and write down the names of great-great-great-uncles and -aunts.”
It was more or less what Will had observed about mindless needlepoint.
“Oh, but I am,” Angelika countered. “I am trying to improve myself. According to my brother, Victor, I get into all sorts of mischief if I am not kept occupied at all times.”
“I am sure, madam, that you speak honestly,” Commander Keatings said with a look designed to make her blush. “Are your parents well?”
“I live alone with Victor, and we have no other family.”
This grave news pleased him immensely. The commander was husband material, and from Mary’s gossiping she knew he was unattached. He had a title, a history, a family name. They were getting along wonderfully, and eye contact produced a spark in her stomach. Even still, her heart pulled toward the man waiting outside for her, the one who’d leave one day without looking back.
Fate was a trickster.
“Are you quite all right, Miss Frankenstein?” Commander Keatings asked, leaning forward in concern. “You have gone quite pale. Here, take some brandy.” He went to a cabinet by the far wall and poured her an inch of liquor into a snifter. “Your journey has tired you.”
“How thoughtful.” She sipped the glass as he sat on the edge of his desk. “You’re right. I am a little tired. Please, tell me about your work, Commander Keatings.”
“Call me Christopher. What do you wish to know?” He seemed amused. “I say, it’s nice conversing with a woman. I spend all of my time with men.”
She swallowed the rest of her brandy in a gulp. “What is it like being the commander? Is it Duty Before All Else?”
He enjoyed her clever use of the Latin motto. “Lately, yes. It’s a lot of office work, writing letters, approving requests, and releasing funds. Very much like managing a large country estate, but instead of cattle, I have one hundred men to feed and water.” He added, like he was unable to resist: “I am also fortunate enough to have my own country estate, where I like to spend some time out in the fresh air.” He looked up at the glassy-eyed buck on his wall.
Angelika attempted to transition the conversation. “What sort of men train here? Are they all officers, like you?”
“It is a mix, like all militia,” he explained, taking her empty glass. “A touch more, I think,” he decided, going to refill it. “You are getting your coloring back. There are lower-ranking men reporting to officers. We train them here so they may be available for times of war. They live in the barracks.”
“That must be difficult for those who are married,” she prompted. “Having to live apart from their wives.”
Christopher took this as a flirtation. “Many of us are married to this way of life,” he said slowly, his eyes on her mouth as he sat back on the desk. “But I’ve been thinking lately that there is more to life than just work, and training, and maintaining an immaculate wardrobe.”
“Well, don’t tell them that.” She nodded toward the grounds and he laughed again. Stop being funny and lively, she scolded herself, and then was astonished at the thought. I am charming this man. How is this happening?
“We have a row of cottages in Highgrove Street where the married officers live with their families. I live here, and I must tell you, Miss Frankenstein, this place is cold at night. And sometimes I hear howls, but I do not know what animal it could be.”
“Sandstone produces the most frightful kind of cold.” She attempted another subject change, but she was too abrupt. “Now, tell me of this accident they are speaking of in the village.”
His expression lost all amusement. “What accident?” He stood from his perch on the desk and went back to his imposing chair. “Whatever do you mean? Ah, thank you, put it here,” he said to his page, who approached at that moment holding a huge leather-bound book.
Christopher took the opportunity to gather his wits as he fussed with turning the page to the correct record. “Frankenstein,” he read out, his tone significantly cooled. “You will find your ancestor’s information here. I will step out to allow you privacy.”
Angelika regretted her tendency to speak without thought and leaned forward to put her hand on his. “I’m sorry. I spend a lot of time alone. I speak my mind without thinking. I had heard someone mention something terrible happening here, and I wondered if you were all right.”