Page 108 of Angelika Frankenstein Makes Her Match

She funded a small army of midwives.

She was a benefactress to anyone she believed in.

Before the baby arrived, Arlo occupied himself in the evenings by rereading his beloved copy ofInstitutiones Rei Herbariaeby Tournefort to make sense of the wild varieties of plants that grew across their estate. Blooms and weeds filled the intertwined courtyards and mazes that made up Larkspur Lodge’s jaw-dropping grounds. He had found a strange little thistle in a hedgerow that required some research. He opened the cover and smoothed his fingertips over the inscription,never again allowing a single one of his wife’s declarations to go unnoticed. It was perhaps a little sacrilegious to write in such a rare old book, but she had amended her annotation several times:

To my love: One day I will write your true name here.

Will, then Father Arlo, and then just Arlo, my husband,

and now a father!

With all that I am,

I am always,

your Angelika.

The seasons changed again, and the day came that Angelika Northcott gave her beloved Arlo what he had feared was impossible. She gave birth to the baby in her bathtub and cut the cord with her favorite sewing scissors. She wouldn’t need them for a little while; at least until her new arrival required a wardrobe refresh.

From her new home above the mantel, the portrait of Caroline Frankenstein observed the scene below. Her daughter had made her perfect match, and it was that forever, Frankenstein kind of love. Larkspur Lodge held a similar view.

The baby boy looked absolutelynothinglike his father.

They loved him more than any little boy had ever been loved before.

That much was certain.