It was essentially the abbreviated truth. He heard her honesty and relaxed. “I was concerned there had been gossip.”
“Not as such. Just a passing comment that I decoded. I am too clever for my own good, and my mouth is smarter yet. I apologize for being so direct about such a traumatic subject.”
“No harm done. Yes, there was a training accident that went badly. I’d barely been here two weeks.” It was a terrible thing to witness the sadness in his once-sparkling eyes. “I understand we lost some very fine men.”
Angelika imagined that in her ear, Will’s voice encouraged: Look around yourself. See how you might offer to help another who needs it.
Inspiration struck.
“That is why I was asking of their wives. I thought I might make up a condolences basket of fruit and pantry goods, if there was anyone recently bereaved. I must step up my charitable efforts in the village.” Producing a notebook and a pencil from her pocket, she began copying down information on her ancestor to maintain her cover. She felt his eyes on her face but did not look up.
Christopher said softly, “How remarkably kind women can be.”
She answered defensively. “Nonsense. Anyone would do the same. Should I prepare a basket?”
“Just one married officer was killed.” He searched through his own notebook, filled with perfect handwriting. “Clara Hoggett. Yes, a basket is just the thing to do. I could assist you with the contents. My predecessor left some good Scotch here.”
Off he went for a third time to the liquor cupboard. Angelika finished her refill. She took the unopened bottle that he presented to her.
“I should like to accompany you to present this to Clara.” Christopher was sitting on the edge of the desk again. She wouldn’t have left those thighs at the morgue. The obscene thought poured heat through her, like a teapot.
“You’re a busy man.” Angelika got to her feet. “’Tis simple women’s work, like my genealogy project. You needn’t bother yourself.”
“I have neglected my duty in checking on her. As the new commander, I must go. As my new friend, you can ensure I don’t get lost. Have you taken down the details you need?” When she nodded, he offered her his arm. “I shall walk you to your carriage.”
Her traitorous hand grasped his firm biceps. Good gosh. “That’s quite all right. You’re busy.”
“I’m really not,” Christopher said, and he smiled broadly for the entire walk downstairs and across the grounds, making perfectly agreeable conversation and pointing out aspects of the architecture. Angelika ached to touch his porcelain-perfect shirt cuffs.
They halted at the carriage.
“Miss Frankenstein, may I call you Angelika?”
“Certainly, Christopher—as you said, we are friends now.” The carriage stairs were against the backs of her calves. She prayed Will had followed her orders; he must be holding his breath inside. “I must thank you for all your help. And I will ensure the poor lady receives this bottle.”
“I insist on visiting her home with you.” Christopher took her hand in his, smoothing across the knuckles of her glove. “Pray, allow me a moment to be quite impertinent. I would be grateful to call upon you. I wish to introduce myself to your brother, given you were both unable to attend the ball.”
“He is out of town at present, for another day or so.” Giving in to the urge, Angelika laid her hand on his cuff. No magic, no witchcraft: it was regular fabric.
“I trust you have plenty of servants to keep you safe. There are many thieves and rogues in the village. And there are tales of something more unexplained. You haven’t seen any monsters, have you?” He was clearly amused. “Something huge and barely human?”
“I haven’t, but I wish I would.” It sounded like Victor’s travel was wasted.
“Please, do not ever go out after dark. We are commencing night patrols. I shall send a card to your brother, and I hope to see you again soon. Do you ride?”
She couldn’t help herself. “Frightfully well.”
“I’d like to know all the things you are frightfully good at.” He wanted to hand her up into her carriage, but she couldn’t risk his seeing Will. She backed up the tiny stairs, attempting to squeeze through a four-inch gap. “Allow me, please,” he said, reaching past her waist and opening the door wide.
The carriage was empty.
“Thank you. Goodbye.” Angelika settled herself into her seat and blew out a breath. She heard Christopher exhale in a similar way, long and slow. He’d held his breath? He needed air? Oh, but wasn’t this a dark delight, knowing she would be in his thoughts as he lay alone tonight in his sandstone fortress—