Gently, he repeated: “I won’t. Thank you. They feel better.” He reached up and smoothed both hands down the sides of her body in a long stroke. It felt like: I could never prefer another over you. Her head knew otherwise. Then those same comforting hands gripped the trousers tight on her thighs, making her look at him. “You’re not to fall in love with Commander Keatings.”
“Not until you’ve fully explored your options and found your way back home. I’m sure that’s what you mean.” She strode from the room. “Oh,” she said as a bell rang out a loud ding above their heads.
Will, close on her heels, flinched at the sound. “What was that?”
“It’s Lizzie, I think. She’s arriving early. Mary!”
“I heard,” Mary called back from the kitchen. “Gracious. Never a dull moment ’round here. Another teacup, Sarah.”
Will was still confused by the bell above the door.
“When Victor and I were children, we invented a way of knowing if a carriage crossed into our drive. Copper wiring, buried alongside the road, connected to a pressure plate with a spring under the gravel. You’ll hear a sound from that.” She gestured up to the brass bell above the door. “We did it over the summer when I was eight.”
“Must have been quite a roll of wire.”
“We dug a trench for weeks. It was so hot, we did it at night.” She caught Will’s gaze on her face—that admiring, astonished expression he had when he thought her clever—and gave him a self-conscious look. “I’ve been creating solutions for a long time. It’s typical Angelika. Again, I’m sorry you were caught up in it.”
“I’m standing here breathing, so I don’t mind.”
“Mary only hears it now when she is standing close by. Perhaps I could make her life a little easier and hang a red scarf from the bell, so she might see it flutter.”
“That would be most thoughtful,” Will praised her. “I like you best when you are like that. I’m pleased you offered to help Sarah with her education.”
They went outside and watched as the carriage grew closer. As the horses rounded the bend, Lizzie hung out the window, waving madly. She was leaping out of the carriage before it had even properly stopped.
“Jelly! I couldn’t wait, so we set off early and traveled all night—have you been expecting me? Vic said he’d send a bird.”
Angelika caught her future sister-in-law in her arms. “It must have been flying only a quarter mile ahead of you. Victor is arriving home tomorrow. I’m so happy to see you.”
“I thought I remembered you wrong,” Lizzie said with fondness, cupping Angelika’s chin in both hands. She glanced at Will to involve him. “As the carriage turned the last corner, I said to myself, She doesn’t really look like a fairy queen. But here she is, her hair both red and gold at the same time, and big green eyes full of naughtiness, and this magical beauty mark on her cheek that the late Marie Antoinette herself would have died to possess.” This, Lizzie kissed. “You understand of course, sir, she’s wearing trousers so we don’t see up her skirts when she flies off.”
“That makes perfect sense,” Will replied.
Lizzie was not finished making her theatrical address. “I thought my future sister-in-law was a daydream.”
“Just a girl,” Angelika said, her eyes filling with tears.
Lizzie was tender. “But yet, I still reach back to find your wings.”
“So shall I,” Will said. The spell utterly cast, they each took a turn rubbing a hand between Angelika’s shoulder blades, while she stood, overcome with every lovely emotion. Rather than declaring her mortal, Will concluded, “She will show us her wings when she is ready.”
Lizzie clapped. “So you are in fact good fun, my dear nameless, handsome man. Jolly good. We must make our own theater out here.” She raised her sparkling brown eyes up to the house. “Blackthorne Manor,” she said reverently. “At last. What a house.”
It was time for Angelika to make the introductions. “Lady Elizabeth Lavenza, this is Sir William Black.”
“How do you do, Lady Lavenza, or should I call you the duchess? I am Will.” He bowed formally.
“Oh, goodness. If another man called me Duchess, I think Vic would take him apart. Better call me Lizzie. Or my various noms de plume. Or, very soon, Mrs. Frankenstein.” The women giggled and clutched at each other’s arms. “He’s lovely. You finally met your match, Jelly, marooned out here, without telling me?” She cast another look over at Will, clearly approving. “Where did you dig up such a handsome bachelor on this hill?”