Free Dr. Frankenstein's Daughters by Suzanne Weyn Page A

confirmed.
    “He’s a remarkable person,” Ingrid said, and from the distant glaze in her eyes I couldn’t tell if she was speaking to me or to herself.
    “Is he?” I questioned. “From what you tell me, he simply sounds self-pitying and reclusive.”
    “Oh, no, you’re wrong,” she came back quickly. “He is a man of real depth and feeling. Despite his condition he still rides and sails. How many others with his afflictions would push themselves to do that?”
    “You know him better than I do,” I conceded. Was it the thought of Walter Hammersmith that had made her turn so crimson when I mentioned love? I hoped not. A dour crippled man leading a reclusive life in a thatched cottage was not the kind of mate I would wish for my sister. But I suspect she goes to see him quite often; I can tell when she’s been there because of the faraway, dreamy look that comes over her. This can’t be good for her; surely a romance with this man will not lead to the full life of the mind in stimulating society that she wished for, but would be more like a jail sentence.
    “Have you fallen in love with Walter Hammersmith?” I asked, relying on my privileged position as her twin as an excuse for my directness.
    Ingrid’s panicked expression made her look like a trapped animal. With darting eyes, she seemed to be casting about for a way to escape me.
    “Well, have you?” I pressed.
    Ingrid walked off several paces and turned away from me. “It’s madness, I know,” she said. “But I can’t stop thinking of him and replaying our conversations over and over in my head. When I am with him I am just so happy.”
    “Happy in that miserable dark cottage?” I questioned.
    Turning to face me, Ingrid nodded. “When we are alone together there, no place could be better.”
    Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the taciturn Captain Ramsay, who was as disagreeable as always. He scowled darkly as he beckoned for us to follow him to his boat without even a word of greeting. I don’t know why he seems to dislike us so; perhaps because we are newcomers to the Orkneys, or maybe he sees us as wealthy, spoiled young women because we dress well and have manners.
    We made the crossing in silence, feeling too uneasy to converse in front of him.
    Captain Ramsay said not a word to either of us, but then as we were disembarking, he muttered something. Although his thick dialect is nearly indecipherable, I suspect that what he said was quite rude and maybe even of an unsavory nature. I shot him a look of indignation, which he returned with a hard stare. I thoroughly dislike the man and hope we can find someone else to take us on the return voyage.
    We got to the main island just in time for the ferry over to the town of John o’ Groat’s on the Scottish coast. Ingrid was scarcely there at all, she was so lost in her thoughts of Lieutenant Hammersmith. She nearly walked up the wrong gangplank on the ferry dock and might have ended up on the boat to Norway had I not run to redirect her.
    As we crossed the water, I advised her once more to forget about Walter Hammersmith and think about someone more fun and suitable for her, like the young man she was about to see. Ingrid had recently received a letter from a fellow student named Anthony Verde with whom she’d become acquainted while she was in Lombardy. Although she insists there is nothing between them other than friendship and a collegial passion for science, she was most excited to learn that Anthony has enrolled in the University of Edinburgh, which has one of the oldest and most prestigious medical schools in the entire United Kingdom.
    Needless to say, they refuse to admit women, but Anthony has promised to give Ingrid a tour of the school including the medical laboratories and, if possible, to smuggle her into his anatomy lecture, though for that she must dress as a man.
    June 26
    I am in love with the beautiful old city of Edinburgh with its ancient castle fortress on a