“Your potential can be found in the places where you can make a difference in this world. It is your duty and your privilege. I would like to suggest that you think about the apple harvest. You still have time to plan it ahead of the season. Mary told me that it all goes to waste, but I think you know now that it’s not too late to start again.”
Angelika was tired of talking about the future and trees now. “Apples are not my forte. It’s more Victor’s area of expertise, but he is riding out so often to search. Could you sort it?” Immediately she winced, and amended, “But you are not my groundskeeper, so I shall sort it myself. And don’t make some allusion to the fact you may be long gone by the time the first apple falls to the ground. I cannot bear it.”
They walked in silence until Will pointed. “There.”
Angelika was both overjoyed and dismayed when they walked to the front of the Frankenstein family chapel. “The forest has tried to eat it.” It was impossible to see if it remained intact. The ancient stones were barely visible underneath the ivy. Angelika tried to imagine a wedding party making the hike up this hill to find this structure. “I don’t think this will work.”
“The fairy queen, able to grant resurrections, is ready to quit before she even steps foot inside?” He had a point. She kept any further opinions to herself as they trod through red-spotted toadstools to the door. It was painted the same maroon as Mary’s door, and it screeched as she pushed it open.
Once inside, she turned, taking everything in. “I remember it being so huge inside, but it’s tiny, isn’t it?”
The beamed roof was as sturdy as the day it was built. At the far end, stained glass was darkened by the ivy outside. Above the altar hung a porcelain cross, still as white as bone. “It’s really not as bad as I thought it would be. Have you cleaned up in here?”
“Perhaps when I was asleep. But I don’t think so.” Will sat on the narrow pew and watched her investigate. “When we cut the ivy back, the sun will shine through that window at sunrise. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Angelika snorted. “You know that Victor barely makes it to the breakfast table.”
Will gave her a faint smile. “For Lizzie, he will do anything. Even wake up early.”
She stood at the altar and tried to picture how a ceremony might look, minus the piglet.
“Lizzie will stand here, and Victor here . . .” She turned to the blank space where the obligatory officiant would be lurking. “I suppose the church will charge us triple to send someone up here. How I wish I were qualified. Let’s try.” She took the priest’s place and made a book shape with her hands. “You do? You do? Grand. Now kiss.”
She waited for Will’s grin, but he looked away with a tight jaw. “It’s only a joke. So, how would I look if I stood here in a white dress?” She changed her hands to hold an imagined bouquet.
“You deserve to be wed in a cathedral, not this.” He gestured up at the cobwebs. “You limit what you want for yourself, because of your brother.”
She couldn’t face what he kept trying to show her. “But how would I look?”
With his eyes full of affection and patience he replied, “Like the most beautiful woman who ever lived. Don’t I tell you enough?”
Angelika beamed. “No.”
“You’re energy.” He pressed that compliment deep into her heart. “You’re warmth, and youth, and so very clever. And yes,” he amended when he could see she was not satisfied, “you have the prettiest, most unforgettable face. It has been a privilege to stare at you so much. I wish I could, until the very day I die.”
“I’d marry you right now, right here. You do know that, don’t you?”
“I do,” he returned solemnly. “Your heart is sewn on your sleeve. I know everything you want, beautiful girl.”
Angelika sat down beside Will and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, letting herself imagine for a moment that they were an old married pair. “I need to apologize to you.”
He covered her knuckles with his wintery palm. “No, you don’t.”
“I sat alone with Christopher, knowing he would lay out his offer. And he did, most comprehensively.” She tipped her head sideways to look at him, but he kept his eyeline on the white cross.
“I forgive you.” A scowl formed, before he blinked it away. “You should hear all of the options available to you. You still have a choice, and you always will.”