Page 28 of Her Creation

Helena’s intelligent eyes passed between Sophia and Victoria curiously. “Get it yourself,” she replied in a low, friendly tone, though her face relayed nothing of the sort as she watched the two other women exchange stares.

Laughter spilled from the table.

“Let me,” Ida said as she leaped from her seat at the table, likely eager to leave the tension that had filled the corners and high ceiling of the beautiful glass room. Rosemary followed close behind.

Victoria, feeling horrid for Sophia, did her best to take a stand, clearly on the woman’s side. “If it’s all the same, I think I’ll sit this one out. Sophia is right; a wager would make the game far more fun, and she is also right to assume I would not partake,” Victoria choked out. It was odd and uncomfortable speaking in front of so many people. So many eyes, perceiving and judging her. She did her best not to interact beyond the bare minimum of expectations at social events. Lately she found she didn’t want to do anything but work on the cadaver. It gave her such comfort and purpose to patch and repair the dead man. She found that all she wanted to do was be near him. It was amazing the companionship that accompanied her time working on him. How much his cold, dead hand in hers felt like home. Another secret for her to keep, at least this one was not alone.

“You are trying to repel any potential suitors that might be desperate enough to give you a second glance. You still haven’t any friends despite being deposited in the most influential circles. You shouldn’t burden your father any longer.” Dr. Paranthal’s words curled into her brain like a spectre.

“Nonsense,” Wilhelm stated firmly. “I insist. I’ll advance the stake—you may settle with me later.” His eyes skipped briefly over Sophia to latch on to Victoria’s uncomfortable stare.

“Come on, come on!” shouted Johanna. “Let’s get on with it.”

“Let’s get on with it,” repeated Rudolph.

Sophia pressed her lips together until their border blanched. Her dress lifted in the air in a whirl of light pink as she spun away from Victoria and took her seat next to her fiancé.

A shadow trapped against a lively backdrop of plants, Victoria hesitantly moved to the table. The flowery scent of jasmine and honeysuckle drifted through the air as she brushed past outstretched branches and moved to sit in the chair across from Wilhelm.

“Pardon, that’s my seat,” Rosemary interrupted politely as she returned and set two pewter tankards of beer on the table in front of Wilhelm and Rudolph.

“Of course, excuse me,” Victoria apologized, standing back up.

Reluctantly, she moved around the table and took the only available seat next to Wilhelm.

His hand moved firmly over Victoria’s thigh under the cover of the table. “All right, the talon lies ready. Who dares it?” Wilhelm exclaimed, marking the beginning of the game.

Her thigh slammed into the bottom of the table with a jolt. “Forgive me.” The liquid in the glasses settled, and everyone’s eyes returned to the game.

Sophia’s eyes snagged on the movement, but she recovered quickly, letting out a forced laugh and leaning into Wilhelm’s shoulder. “The daring is yours by habit, my love; however, winning is not.”

Victoria tucked her elbows in and tried to keep her shoulders tight as she attempted to remove his hand from her thigh. She could feel her cheeks heat and blotch with embarrassment. What if someone saw? What would they think? They would think she was a whore—word would get back to her father, who would be devastated. She would be forced to tell him that Wilhelm knew everything. She’d be forced to tell her father what she had done to keep him from talking.

“Victoria?”

Helena’s voice broke into her racing, panicked thoughts. She shifted her focus to see Helena sitting diagonally from her, looking directly at Wilhelm’s hand on her thigh. A cool lightness pressed into Victoria’s abdomen, feeling as if all her insides had fallen away with the blood that drained from her face as her eyes met with Helena’s.

Helena’s head tilted to the left as her thick black brows pinched together. “Victoria, be a dear and trade me seats, would you? I need the light from the window to see my cards better, and the jasmine in this corner is making me sneeze.”

Both women exchanged silent glances of understanding.

“Of course.” Victoria gathered the fabric of her skirt and, with a nervous look at Wilhelm, scurried to take Helena’s now-empty seat.

Wilhelm cast a hard look at Helena as she moved around the table and took the seat next to him. “Funny, I didn’t hear you sneeze once.”

Her eyes examined his face for a moment. “You must’ve been preoccupied.”

The rest of the evening passed for Victoria in a haze of nervous worry. She kept to herself unless she was spoken to and did her very best not to draw the attention of Wilhelm again as he seemed to enjoy torturing both Sophia and her in tandem.

The carriage ride back to Thousand-Sword Castle with Helena was silent and uncomfortable. Neither one spoke over the creak of the carriage wheels and the occasional rustle of fabric when the terrain caused the carriage to jostle, and the rhythmic clop of the horse’s hooves against the road were the only sounds that dared infiltrate the silence.

Weak, yellow light from the coach box lanterns created a soft tangerine glow that danced softly onto the small windows of the carriage. There was barely enough light to see the face of the other woman sitting in darkness.

Blackened shadows from the trees and hedgerows rushed past in strange patterns as Victoria sat straight-backed in the seat across from Helena. Her legs begged to curl under her rear so that she might lean against the window or stretch out on the bench. Despite overwhelming exhaustion from the evening, she couldn’t relax, not yet.

The easy flow of friendliness had stopped with Helena after she had seen Wilhelm’s hand on Victoria under the table. Helena had the tact and grace not to say anything to Victoria, but she wondered how long until she heard the sharp, cruel words that were bound to be said to her now that they were alone in the carriage together.

A wave of loneliness that never quite left swelled in Victoria’s chest. She had liked Helena. A lot. Even if Helena had not seen Wilhelm’s indiscretion, this end to their friendship would have happened, eventually. She had that effect on people.