“Victor would have brought me back.”
“Not with a rock clean through your skull. What if he had sought to take vengeance on Victor? Men do terrible things to women. He could have taken you deeper into the woods and . . . hurt you. I could not survive it.”
Mary’s old advice ran through Angelika’s mind: No hesitation, no politeness, run.
He was shaking as he kissed her hand and then began speaking. Latin became English, and it was crystal clear: he was praying. They were words from her childhood; he was asking the Lord to keep her safe, to watch over her and keep her.
On Frankenstein ground, it was absolute sacrilege. Lucky Victor wasn’t here.
Will didn’t even seem aware of what he was doing; a long-held script from his past life was being recited. A devout husband could prove to be a very big problem.
“You shouldn’t do that.” She eased her hand away. “How did you find me?”
“I was walking down to invite you to dine with me. My cottage is finished now, as you see,” Will explained shyly. “I saw you from across the orchard, fleeing the laboratory. Then you stopped in the most peculiar way and waved like a child, but not at me. The way you walked toward the forest made the hairs on my body stand on end. I ran for you.”
She remembered the tenuous moment with the stranger, and their shouts ruining it.
“And now we’ve lost him. I wish you’d just let me deal with it by myself.”
He heard her grouchy tone and smoothed her hair back. “I will never leave you to deal with things by yourself. When you face monsters, I want to be with you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to catch you.”
“He isn’t a monster. He is lost, and suffering, and oh, his poor feet. I’m sure his hands don’t work properly. He needs me to massage them. We need to find him and help him. I feel like I can never be comfortable again, knowing that he is out there, and Sarah has a cold room, and Mary bends in half underneath the eaves to not hit her head.”
“Empathy has found you later in life, and I think life’s cruelties will burden you more than most. What happened with Mary?”
“I suggested that she consider retiring. She took it badly.” Angelika looked around the cottage again. Could the other four vacant cottages be made this lovely with some hard work? “How do you feel about having an irritable old neighbor?” She thought about the people in her employ. “Add Sarah, so two neighbors? Or three, if Jacob wants to live closer to the horses? Four, if we persuade Victor’s big friend to stay?”
“Now there’s my Angelika.” Will was deeply pleased with her. “Generosity is the garment that suits you best.”
“Jacob apologized to me when we first met. I didn’t understand what he meant.” Angelika closed her eyes and the truth came to her, knowing Will as she did. “He’s the boy from that night, isn’t he? The thieves in the house. He’s the one you scolded and let go.”
“Yes.”
Her past self would have been furious. She would have run to the stables, to check her valuable horse, and to order the thief to never set foot on her land again. But now, she just nodded her head. “Fine.”
“His family has not been able to survive—”
“It’s fine. I forgive him. I’m sorry things are bad for him.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Feeling sorry is one thing, but being practical is the better solution, in view of his family’s poverty. He is paid handsomely to muck out the stalls and untangle Solomon’s tail.”
“You did well.” She stretched against him. “Is my invitation to dinner still current?”
“Let’s wait until your eyes are not big strange stars.” He was quiet for a while.
They were interrupted by a distant howl. Animal or man, they could not ascertain.
“That poor man. His arm was absolutely ice cold.” Angelika put her hand on Will’s wrist to demonstrate what she meant, then recoiled, and patted him all over. “You’re rather chilly, too.”
She searched his face intently, relieved to note his skin still retained its healthy glow.
“It is very cold. The window is open.” He pulled the blankets more snugly to her chin. “What was wrong with the man’s hands? You said they don’t work.”
“It looked like he had no ability to make a fist or use his hands properly. He had trouble picking up an apple. Are you worried the same will happen to you?”
“It’s natural to worry about the future.” He allowed Angelika to gather his hand into hers. The rubbing massage was a ritual now between them, and she needed the contact just as much as he.