Justine’s orphaned status weighed heavily on me as I remembered her past and considered her future. Included in the letter about her mother’s death had been a note explaining the delay in delivery. Her mother had specifically requested Justine not be notified until after the funeral. It had been her dying wish to spite Justine and deny her even the opportunity to mourn. Imagine wanting to mourn a woman who deserved no such tribute!

I insisted Justine take the next two days to herself—whether to spend them in bed, or walking the countryside alone with her thoughts. I knew she needed space to heal the final wound her mother had inflicted.

Unfortunately, that left me with William. Ernest was old enough to manage himself, but he was unsettled by Justine’s absence and thus hovered around me like a gnat, pestering and useless but ultimately harmless.

The first day was spent with William clambering through the entire house, getting into everything. He begged to see my room, where he had never been allowed, then proceeded to ask me if he could have every shiny thing he saw. He was a magpie, this child. To get him out, I agreed to lend him my gold locket with a miniature portrait of his mother inside. I had never loved it, had certainly not asked for it. It was too expensive to give into the care of a five-year-old, but I would have given far more for even ten minutes’ respite from his constant demands. Victor would be home in just a few short days, but that did not help in the meantime. I could be charmed by the children in minute doses; being in charge of their care was overwhelming. I could not imagine Victor being willing to take over.

On the second day, at a loss for ways to entertain William, I suggested Ernest accompany us on a walk. A very, very long walk that ideally would end with William exhausted into lethargy for the evening. To my surprise, as we were finishing our preparations—picnic packed and boots laced—Judge Frankenstein appeared.

“It is a lovely afternoon,” he declared gravely, as if passing judgment on the weather were part of his authority. I was glad, for the weather’s sake, that it did not meet his condemnation.

“Yes. I am taking the boys out for some fresh air and exercise while Justine rests.”

“That is good of you.” His lips pulled apart, and his mustache lifted like a curtain to reveal his teeth. His teeth, unused to the spotlight, were stained dark from years of wine and tea, though I suspected higher quantities of the former. “I will join you. It will be nice to go out together. As a family.” He weighted the last word like a gavel dropping.