The Dark Descent of Elizabeth Frankenstein

“What?”

“Gerta is gone. My mother will be desperate for a new governess.”

I stood, shocked. When he had left the room, I thought he was going to eat. He had been gone only an hour. What could he possibly have done in an hour to get rid of Gerta so easily?

“Where did she go?”

“Home,” he said simply.

“She would not just leave. How did you manage it?”

He paused, holding up one of my long curls, still loose from when he had unpinned them. “Sublime,” he murmured, twisting my hair to catch the light streaming in from the window. “Why is it, I wonder, that I can find beauty in this? What is it about your hair—a natural phenomenon, one that holds no inherent value or purpose—that triggers happiness in me?”

“You are so strange.” I took his hand and turned it to kiss his palm. “Now. Tell me. How did you get rid of Gerta?”

He shrugged, his eyes fixing on some point above my head. I noticed that his shirt and vest were slightly rumpled and askew. It was not like him to be anything other than immaculate when he was well. A remnant of the fever must be lingering. “I asked her to leave. She did. Tomorrow will be a good time to suggest to my mother that you know a suitable replacement.”

He took my place at his desk, pulled out one of his books, and resumed the studies that had been paused by his illness.

Whatever Victor had done had worked. We never heard from—or spoke of—Gerta again. The next morning, I told a harried and upset Madame Frankenstein that I knew a perfect replacement governess. Justine was produced and immediately hired, and had only me to thank for her new life.

It was a struggle initially, finding a balance. I had to be careful not to make Victor jealous of my affection for Justine. Having so few people he loved in his own life, Victor was not inclined to share me. But when he was at school, I was free to spend time with her.

I would often join her in the nursery as she instructed Ernest while playing with and cooing over William. I interacted with the boys as required and pretended to be delighted with them, but Justine’s adoration of them was sincere. When she praised Ernest’s progress, she meant it. When she laughed and clapped at William’s newest trick, her eyes shone with pride.

I had meant to do Justine a favor—and thus myself—but I could see that she was what I should have been to this family: an angel.

She was an angel to me, as well. She was the one person in the house who did not, to some extent, hold my fate hostage. Because she was an employee and I was a ward, she could do nothing to threaten me. But because I was not a Frankenstein, she was free to treat me as a dear friend and not an employer.

Perhaps I stared at her with as much joy and adulation as the young Frankensteins did.

I loved Justine.

Just as I loved Henry.

But I loved no one as I loved Victor, because I owed it all to him.

* * *

—

When the afternoon light grew warm and long, the doctor shooed me out.

“Inform your landlady you will be leaving in the morning,” Victor said as I pinned my hat back in place. I still needed another pin to replace the one I had left in the charnel house man’s wrist.

“Where will we stay? Do you have a recommendation?”

“You must return home.”

I crossed my arms, obstinate. “Not without you.” Then I paused, repenting of my forcefulness. It was never the way to win Victor’s agreement. “Or will you stay on and continue your studies? I want to remain at least until you are fully well.”

“It would be a waste of your time. And no, I am not going to stay, either. My failure here was complete. I need a fresh start. I will return home as soon as I have settled a few personal business matters. You must go ahead of me so I remember the goodness I have awaiting my return. It will make my time here pass far more bearably. I will not be more than a month behind you.”

“A month!” I cried.

Victor laughed at my unhappiness. “What is a month to us, who have shared a lifetime? I am quite serious, though. Ingolstadt is no place for you.”

I sighed. I both agreed and disagreed. I had not had a particularly good time here—but there had been something invigorating about being on my own, chasing down my own future. Answering to no one. Still, I would do as Victor wished. I could go back knowing that he would follow, bringing my security with him. “Justine is quite unhappy here. She is desperate to be back home.”