Ravenwood(20)

Hayter’s eyes lit up at her question. “Why, yes. I’m afraid many of the books are quite advanced, but I’m sure you can find some romantic poetry or rudimentary texts on fabric or sewing - just the sort of thing that young ladies are interested in.”

Elinore’s face felt brittle and tight, even as she tried to make her smile congenial. “Just so, Uncle. You’ve guessed my interests well.”

“I’m quite familiar with young ladies and their interests.”

Caleb stood abruptly and spoke. “I can take you to the library now, if you like.”

“Oh, yes. If it’s not any trouble.” Elinore blinked a few times in surprise and then carefully stood up.

“None at all,” answered Caleb. “Uncle.”

Elinore was amazed such a solitary word uttered by Caleb could contain so much… presence. Hayter inclined his head carefully at his nephew while Caleb came over to Elinore’s side of the table and gestured for her to precede him out of the room. While she was grateful the painfully awkward lunch was over, she couldn’t help but wonder if all the meals at Ravenwood would be the same and this was only the first of many she would endure.





Chapter Five





“I apologize for my uncle,” Caleb said, once they were out of the dining room and in the hallway. “We are not used to having company at Ravenwood. He means well.”

“There is no need to apologize,” Elinore said smoothly, although truly she was quite vexed at Hayter’s behavior. She wondered how her life at Ravenwood would be with such a man at the head of the household.

“You’re kind to say so.”

“Have you lived at Ravenwood long?” Elinore inquired.

“All my life.”

“Oh, I must have misunderstood. I believed Ravenwood to be your uncle’s, well, our uncle’s, estate.”

“It is,” Caleb answered. “Now, that is. Ravenwood is my father’s home and after his death and the death of my mother, Uncle took over the estate. But I have lived here since birth.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your parents,” Elinore said, feeling a surge of kinship with Caleb. Elinore felt the recent loss of her own parents keenly at his words. She swallowed thickly. “My condolences.”

Caleb was silent for a moment. “It was a few years ago, but thank you. I offer my own condolences on your recent loss.”

She couldn’t manage to speak for a moment and only nodded. “Thank you.” The words were barely audible.

“You look rather like your late aunt. Your mother’s sister, Victoria.”

“So I’ve been told,” Elinore replied, carefully keeping pace with Caleb. They came to the main hallway and Caleb indicated a portrait in the gallery - a young woman who did look remarkably like Elinore herself posed with Hayter.

“That was painted shortly after their marriage.” Caleb paused before the painting, allowing Elinore to study it. “Hayter had a great many of his belongings moved here when he took over the estate. This is one of his most beloved items.” He paused. “ I believe they were quite happy.”

Elinore had known she took after her mother’s side of the family more than her father’s, and indeed her mother had mentioned the resemblance to her late sister, but until this moment Elinore had not realized how similar they’d truly been. In the portrait, Victoria’s dark brown hair, styled intricately, was the exact same shade as Elinore’s. Her dark brown eyes, calm and focused, mirrored Elinore’s own in shape and color. Elinore could also see the resemblance to herself in the slightly turned-up nose and pronounced chin.

“How long has it been since she passed?”

Caleb frowned. “It was shortly before my own parents’ passing. Perhaps five years now.”

“Did you know her?”

“A little. In the way a child knows adults. I remember her and Hayter visiting Ravenwood when I was younger. She would sneak me treats after dinner.”

Staring at the portrait, Elinore was able to imagine her own face in place of Victoria’s and for a moment, the sensation was dizzying. Her arm throbbed and she clutched it close.

“Miss Reed, are you well?” Caleb touched her elbow lightly, his hand warm even through the gown.

“Yes,” she said quickly, not wanting to cause a scene. “I’m a little tired from last night and all this talk of the dead makes my heart weary.” Looking closer at the portrait of Hayter, Elinore could scarcely make out any differences to how he appeared today. “Our uncle must be most favorably blessed. He appears hardly to have aged a day.”

Caleb paused and Elinore felt as though she’d said something untoward or rude, but couldn’t imagine what.

“The Vollmond men age quite well.” With a genteel sweep of his hand, Caleb steered her away from the portrait. Elinore’s head turned slightly to watch the portrait as they moved away from it - Hayter’s sharp blue eyes following her as she went. A raven sat upon Hayter’s shoulder in the portrait and Elinore had an uncomfortable memory of her nightmare - the raven’s claws as it sat upon her own shoulder and whispered in her ear. A chill passed over her and she shivered slightly.

“If you’re cold, I can have a fire lit in the library once we arrive.”