Someone pounded on the front door, and I jumped, startled. We were not expecting anyone. Indeed, we rarely had guests at all. Perhaps it was a letter!

The maid was in another wing of the house. I swished through the entry to the door, half expecting to find Judge Frankenstein there, glowering over being locked out of his own house. Instead, I opened it to find Fredric Clerval, Henry’s father.

“Monsieur Clerval?” I gave him a puzzled smile. “To what do we owe the honor?”

He looked past me, searching for someone else. Henry had far more of his mother in his face. His father’s features were flat and hard, eyes squinted from perpetual glaring. He looked like a man counting ledgers and never quite satisfied with the results.

“Where is Judge Frankenstein?”

“He is away, I am afraid. Would you care for some tea?”

“I would not!” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. But then his baleful eyes found me, and his glare deepened. “Have you heard from my son?”

The letter hidden in the back of my vanity drawer seemed to pulse in my mind. I still needed to burn it! “Not for some six months, I am afraid. The last he wrote me, he said he was going to England to further his studies.”

Monsieur Clerval let out a derisive blast of air between his lips. “His studies! He has gone chasing poets! If ever there were a more useless waste of his time and mind, I cannot think of it.” He leaned close. “Do not think I hold you blameless. I have no doubt some of this was planted in his mind by your influence. I curse the day I introduced him to your company. You and Victor have done nothing but corrupt him, make him miserable with the life he was given.”

I wanted to stagger back. I wanted to agree, to apologize. Instead, I lifted my chin and raised my eyebrows in wounded surprise. “I am sorry, Monsieur Clerval. I am afraid I do not know what you are talking about. We have ever loved Henry as our dear friend, and want only the best for him.”

“No one in this family wants the best for anyone but themselves.” He threw a stack of parchment on the floor between us. “See that Judge Frankenstein gets these. And let him know I will no longer defer collection on his debts. He has ruined my son. I will ruin his fortunes.”

He turned to stomp away—and found Judge Frankenstein standing in the doorway. I should have acted as hostess and ushered them to a sitting room. Judge Frankenstein looked at me, then at the papers Henry’s father had thrown down. A mixture of fury and fear mingled, ugly and purple, on his face.