Page 19 of Her Creation

She nodded, wondering how she could convince the man that he hadn’t seen her, that she was a figment of his delusions.

“I saw it through the woods in Glen Shire when I was returning from collecting the rent and, er, other things.” He smirked, throwing a wink at Victoria.

Rumor had it that he took payment from many of the younger widows in the form of skin. Victoria hadn’t thought the baron would allow such a thing, but it seemed it had just been confirmed.

“And I came upon three beasts, this one the largest of the group. It caught my eye, but as I was without a musket or hunting equipment, I passed by on my horse without another thought of it.”

“What a lovely story.” If he were to look closer, he would have seen the tremble of her small shoulders, the quivering of her lower lip. “I believe I heard them call for everyone to be seated. We must talk more about your wild delusions of me operating on you later.” She managed this with kindness in her eyes and a small, smiling tilt to her mouth.

Victoria was far from a fool. Though no man had ever looked at her with a hungry, primal gaze, she knew the snare that was being laid for her. Unfortunately, no escape existed for her. Wilhelm’s telling of Victoria’s medical adventures would repudiate her father and disgrace his reputation. The Frankenstein name would be forever forsaken. Her father’s decades of impossible work and dedication—his life’s passion—would be muddied and discredited, all because of her.

She wondered briefly if a man had ever felt the specific type of fear that stirred in her gut and knew few, if any, had. No, that was reserved for her sex, like embroidery and homemaking. Thoughts of men in war popped into her head, but she dismissed them instantly; in war, both sides were capable of fighting. She couldn’t fight Wilhelm. Despite his enormous stature compared to hers, if she struggled, it would likely only provoke him and would most definitely incentivize him to send her and her father into destitution. She worried her lower lip between her teeth as her anxiety was piqued. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth, grounding her. Her father had been declining so quickly, a scandal like this would send him over the edge.

Victoria would die before she would let anything bad happen to her father. She could handle Wilhelm on her own.

“Later that night,” he continued. “When I was home, I found myself unable to think of anything other than that damned boar. It wasn’t the right time of year for him to be out and so large. What was he doing in that forest? Boars are never found in that forest.” He took a few leisurely paces toward Victoria. The vibrato in his voice as it softened pulsed through the thick air of the room. “You see, I knew I had to have him. Can you understand why, Victoria?”

“Because he was larger than all of your friends’ mounts?” Her voice quivered. She set her glass down on the mantel; the scent of cloves and cinnamon from her spilled drink wafted around her and twisted her dread-laden gut. It mixed with the smell of tobacco smoke and men’s soap. Suddenly she longed for the safe chemical smell of the laboratory. The smell that reminded her, despite her patients’ size or sex or massive physique—as the cadaver proved—they were at her mercy. She was the one that held the power in the laboratory, so unlike here in this room.

He shook his head slowly. Another step. Another waft of fruity cloves held her in place before it swirled around her again. Into her ears. Her mouth. No, that was old and sour on her tongue from the last drink she’d taken. Her skin prickled, though.

“Because he made no sense; he was mysterious.”

“Wilhelm—”

“Do you know how I got him?” he continued, ignoring her. “I had my men dig a pit exactly where I saw him and cover it with leaves and brush. It was exhilarating standing over the ledge looking down at his body.” He stepped close to Victoria—too close—and bent his head to stare into her eyes. His black waistcoat brushed against the silk of her dress.

The stench of sour, rotten fruit was everywhere, drowning Victoria as her heartbeat pounded in her head.

“I’ve found I enjoy the things that I trap a great deal.” One of his hands touched her waist, gripping it while the other slowly moved over her shoulder and down her arm. She recoiled from his touch but stilled. Frozen as a fawn spotted in the thicket.

Her mouth had fallen open, but words failed her. If she offended him, things would turn horrible for her and her father. He would make their life hell, and it would be all her fault.

“I think there is a misunderstanding,” she said as she flattened her palms against his chest and pushed slightly. He didn’t move. Her heart pounded in her chest like the racing hooves of a runaway horse.

“I’ll tell everyone what I saw. You think they’ll believe you or your crackbrained father over me?” He smiled. His voice had raised slightly, the tones pressed into Victoria’s chest along with the tingling burn of cinnamon. “How would my father react when he hears that you, an uneducated, incapable woman, were playing doctor with his only son while he was close to dying? He’d most likely think you and your father were trying to kill me. I don’t think he’d take very kindly to that.” His square jaw stiffened, and his grip on her waist tightened. “I don’t think the people of the four villages and hamlet that he handles would tolerate that level of disrespect either. Not to mention all his friends in prominent positions. There isn’t a town or village you or your father could go to.”

Her head shook slowly, but no words came from her parted mouth. She was at the bottom of a pit of spiced oranges with snapped bones, looking up into the eyes of her hunter. She’d never been with a man, never thought about it. Odd, yes, for a woman of Victoria’s age to have never truly thought of lying with a man, but her head was filled with other forbidden desires that were vastly more appealing to her—like resurrecting the dead.

“I know this is forward, and I’m frightening you,” he said. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying that a little, but I promise over the course of our relationship, you will learn to enjoy me too. There are benefits to being with me.”

“Our relationship,” she repeated. What benefit could he possibly gain from a relationship with her? Because Wilhelm was the baron’s heir, people considered him an attractive catch, and she knew he could find a more beautiful and willing partner than herself.

He nodded and licked his lower lip, a sudden flare of urgency in his eyes. “I thought about you every day while I was healing. I need to know what other mysteries you have, Victoria. Tonight will be incredible, but it sure as hell isn’t going to get you out of my system.” He nodded his head toward the large boar from his story. “It took me a year before I stopped coming in every day to stare at that damn boar,” he whispered, and moved both hands over her cheeks and threaded his fingertips into her hair. “And you’re so much prettier than him.”

His mouth closed on Victoria’s. He gripped tightly at her waist before collecting a handful of black fabric and moving his hand under the skirt of her dress. Victoria’s heart hammered in her chest as spiced wine roiled in her stomach, and she did what she always did when she was in situations that left her hopeless and inconsolable: her mind ran to the texts of her favorite books and she read through the most important chapters, the ones she had memorized—all about reanimation. She went through and worked out the blank spaces of her notes, forcing them full of information she had learned in the last few weeks with her father. As Wilhelm undid his trousers, her mind latched on to the enormous cadaver—the man she was building. The only time her mind left thoughts of resurrection was to pray that if her mother was in heaven, she would not be watching over her at this moment.

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“There you are! Are you all right? You missed the aperitif and opening toast. Oh, it’s all right. The baron said that he directed you to some books, so I just thought you were engrossed in something good. Did you run back? Your hair is quite a mess now. Spiced wine?” Alphonse thrust the glass of maroon liquid into his daughter’s hand, oblivious to the fresh horrors that sat behind her hollow eyes. Her father was in rare form, swept up in the exciting conversations presented to him at every turn, and his tremors had, by luck, all but subsided and were not enough to draw unwanted attention.

“I noticed Wilhelm was missing from the table as well,” he said with a giddy lilt, smiling and nodding as they passed a large group. He leaned in conspiratorially. “The baron mentioned plans for a wedding.”

Victoria’s unblinking eyes held on to the black veins of the marble floor as her father guided her from the hallway into the ballroom. The feel of his breath on her ear and the press of his arm on her skin were like small razor blades scraping off flesh.

“Yes, he very loudly told me that Wilhelm will stay in their house close to us with his new wife. Isn’t this exciting? What do you think of the lad? Could you grow to love him? If not, say the word and I will make known my distaste for the arrangement.” Alphonse nodded and held a finger up to a small group of men urging him to join them. “Are you surprised? You need time to think. Understandable. I daresay I like the thought of you being so close. Men of this sort are never around as it is, always out hunting and sorts; it might suit you. Are you all right? Victoria, should we go home? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I—I lost myself in my story.”