Chapter 7 #3
A foreign tingle of unease crawled up the base of Victoria’s spine.
She looked at the closed door. “This is incredibly inappropriate. My father will be looking for me.” Her words held bite in the hopes that Wilhelm was one of those men who veered away when someone with teeth pushed back.
A horrible, sinking feeling came over her.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk that the devil himself would be proud of. “It all made sense when I saw you among the strange apparatus and oddly shaped bottles of mysterious colored liquid that night. I must admit, I’ve found myself significantly more intrigued by you.”
Everything inside her went cold. “You didn’t see me. I don’t enter the lab—it’s forbidden. My father would never allow such a thing—nor could I ever stomach such a thing,” she tried with a small smile.
Wilhelm flashed her a knowing smile once more. He slowly strode to the wall on the left.
Every muscle in Victoria’s body tightened.
She forced her face into an expression of carelessness.
“Forgive me, I do not know what you mean?” Her throat made a soft sound, clenched tightly as she struggled to swallow normally.
Her skin was on fire; a light sheen of dampness had beaded on her forehead and upper lip.
Forgetting all manners and etiquette, she stepped toward the closed door of the room, desperate to flee.
“If you’ll excuse me, I should find my father.
” She gathered her thick skirt and dashed a few paces.
“I have told no one, of course; you already know that. If I had, you and your father would not have been invited to this dinner.”
Victoria’s steps faltered, locking her body in place.
Wilhelm’s steps echoed as he closed the space between them. “I’ve been simply dying to see you again.”
Her skirt swished as she whirled around to meet him. This close, his large stature dwarfed and intimidated her, vastly different from when he lay beneath her, unconscious. She was suddenly aware of how alone they were and prayed that the door would open and others would enter.
She pushed out a small and convincing chortle despite her urge to scream.
“I’m sorry, whatever do you mean? How are you healing, by the way?
I was so pleased to hear my father could fix your wound.
” She moved her eyes to the boar mount nearest them.
“Boar hunting accident, was it not?” Her fingers pinched and worried at the onyx fabric at her side.
A predatory grin flashed across Wilhelm’s face. “Wonderful,” he said as though he were complimenting a play. “You know, Miss Victoria, we met before briefly. At Countess Montag’s for dinner.”
Victoria’s brows pinched as she searched the man’s face. She remembered attending the countess’s party, but she couldn’t find any other memories of the night. She could barely remember the event.
“You spent the entire evening on a settee reading.” His cool brown eyes searched her face, then moved farther down her figure before returning unabashedly to her gaze.
Despite Victoria’s innocence, agitation and worry quickened her pulse at the look in his eye. “Yes, I remember now,” she muttered as she took a step back.
“I didn’t spare you another thought until after you left and everyone spoke of how odd and dramatic you are.
Jonathan Gaylord mentioned he thought you to be quite beautiful in an odd, mysterious way.
” His hand was suddenly ghosting along her cheek.
“And I have to say now that I very much agree. The rest thought you to be quite dramatic with your insistence on wearing black past the mourning period. I agree; it’s quite odd, though it lends an air of something more unusual. Something mysterious.”
Victoria urged her feet to walk. To run. To do anything other than stand frozen as they were. A low tap of metal sounded as someone tried to open the door and failed. The whites of Victoria’s eyes flashed as she realized the door was locked.
Wilhelm looked to the door for a single moment, and she took the opportunity to push out of his barricade and move to the open space toward the back of the room where an unlit fireplace decorated in antlers was located a few feet below a wiry-looking boar.
Its mouth hung open, posed to show off the gilded tips of its tusks.
Wilhelm’s neck stretched up to admire the beast. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke, still gazing at the trophy mounted on the wall.
“I caught this one myself.” He turned to face her. For a moment he almost appeared handsome. “It’s the largest in our collection.”
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.