Snowdrop (A Frankenstein Story)

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Was he trying to woo her? In a manner of speaking, he was. With the bitter memory of the De Lacey's as a reminder, he could not afford to repeat his original mistake. He would subtly introduce himself to Georgia and win her affection and when, if the day ever came, he would show himself to her and she would not shriek in fear and disgust. She would embrace him, even if she never came to love him. She was strong, like an addiction he would never be able to sunder himself from. To whatever end it would bring, he didn't want to be parted from her.

But Victor was another matter, one that threatened to foil his plans. His father must have figured out that he had given Georgia the song, but how? He wondered. Was it pure suspicion? He didn't blame Victor. After what Frankenstein did to his bride and what he, in turn, did to Henry was enough to make anyone paranoid and suspicious. Victor was right to be paranoid, the creature conceded bitterly. But why was he so determined to ruin his creation's happiness?

Victor, however, was dealing with his hatred in a wretched manner. His attitude towards Georgia was infuriating. Unjust, to say the least, she had no part in their quarrel. But his father lacked all manner of compassion, and he knew not what he was blessed with. The creature stopped his hike and cried. Stopping to cry seemed a permanent ritual for him since he first laid eyes on Georgia. Victor had Georgia in his company, he had her music and her voice, and yet, he could utter nothing kind to her. If only they could trade places, he lamented. He would treasure and protect Georgia and Elizabeth.

The creature reached the tree line of the Frankenstein house just as the sun was beginning to set. Through the trees, he saw Alfonse Frankenstein speaking with one of his servants. Georgia was in tears with Nettie's arms wrapped around her in consolation.

"My dear girl, forgive Victor and us. I had not realized how unwell he truly is." Alfonse looked ashen and terribly ashamed. He awkwardly tried to set his arm on Georgia's shoulders, but her quiet sobbing unnerved him.

"Miss Daniels," whispered Nettie. "Dry your eyes. You cannot act this way."

The creature wondered then at the restrictions placed on Georgia's emotions. What had that wretched devil of a father done to destroy her composure? His jaw tightened and clenched as he watched Georgia fight to regain her composure.

"I do not, Mr. Frankenstein, wish to be a burden on your family." Her voice was meek and broken. She offered Alfonse a fake smile, pretending that she was over the recent exchange.

"Oh, Miss Daniels, you have been nothing of the sort, nor could you ever be. Miss Nettie, will you be kind enough to draw up a warm bath for Miss Daniels. I will have Martha bring you tea. The English drink tea in these circumstances, is that correct?" Alfonse asked awkwardly.

Nettie scowled, forgetting her advice to Georgia. "This sort of behavior is not common amongst the English. If you must know, we drink tea for any occasion. It is a far better drink for retaining one's wits."

"Nettie!" Cried Georgia.

Alfonse nodded softly. "I will get Martha then. I ask that you remain in your room, Miss Daniels until we are able to take you back to Sir John." He left them in haste, fleeing around the corner of his house. They heard him shouting to the servants and crying out for Victor. His anger boomed in the colorful atmosphere. A beautiful day had been soured and the night seemed unable to erase his shame.

***

"Nettie, I am alright. I will lock myself in. Please, you don't need to stand outside. Nettie, I am fine to sleep alone. Victor isn't even home. You watched him leave!" Georgia and Nettie stood arguing that the threshold of her room. Nettie continued fretting over Georgia like a worried mother. It took some effort for Georgia to wedge Nettie from her door and shut it. A tinge of guilt surfaced, Nettie was only trying to help. After a while, the older woman left the girl and returned to her own room where she spent the night wringing her hands together at the distress Victor caused.