Ravenwood(22)

“Mrs. Davenport is correct. We’ve not seen hydrophobia around Ravenwood for many years.”

Elinore let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “I’m glad of it.”

“Does it pain you this morning?”

“No. Not much. It’s… hot.”

Caleb reached a hand out, as though to touch her and then paused. “May I?” he asked.

Elinore held her arm out slightly and he stepped closer to reach it. He rested his palm over the bandage and though she tried not to, she flinched. His eyes moved up to hers, as if reaffirming she was still amenable to him examining her arm. She nodded once in acquiescence. Caleb gently moved his hand down and around her arm, coming to cradle the bottom of it and holding it up, as though to have a better look. She could feel how the skin under the cotton was tender and swollen, hot. Though her wounds were not visible through the bandages, his careful examination was almost as though they were. His nostrils flared slightly and she thought she heard him give a low humming sound, almost like a growl. It made the back of her neck prickle. He was very close to her, the light coming through the window cascading on his dark hair. He was quite handsome. She wanted to lean forward, to get closer to him, as though his very presence pulled her closer.

Caleb straightened suddenly and they each took a step backward. “Mrs. Davenport will keep an eye on it, likely giving you another, perhaps two, poultices for it. I must take your leave now. You’re welcome to stay in the library and make use of anything you find, or perhaps to take a tour of the house or the grounds. But,” he inclined his head slightly, his soft tenor voice going slightly deeper as he spoke, “it would be wise to stay on the grounds. The woods are… not always safe.”

“You said you were hunting last night, and you’re hunting again today,” Elinore began and he nodded curtly. “What are you hunting?”

She watched his cheek flex as he worked his jaw. “We’re looking for the wolf that bit you. He may be mad.”

Elinore felt her stomach turn over at his words, remembering the strangely glowing yellow eyes of the wolf. “But you said there were no rabid creatures in around Ravenwood.”

“The wolf is not rabid, but we are hunting it just the same. It’s been… destroying animals in and around the area.”

Elinore shivered, remembering its sharp teeth and fierce snarl. She could have easily suffered the same fate of those animals if not for the pistol and knife Thistle had given her.

“Stay on the grounds and Mrs. Davenport will continue to tend to your wounds. You shall be fine.”

She tried to smile at his words of comfort. Given the look on his face, she doubted she managed very well.

“Good day, Miss Reed.”

“Good day, Mister Vollmond.”

He gave her a curt nod accompanied by a slight bow and she managed a passable curtsey. Elinore made her way to the desk where, true to Caleb’s word, she found an inkwell, a quill and some parchment. There was a large bay window next to the desk which provided ample light to read or write. Seating herself at the large desk, she began her return letter to Charlotte. Tears pricked at her eyes with the first sentence, both in longing for Charlotte’s companionship and due to the subject matter. She squared her shoulders and kept writing.

Dearest Charlotte,

I have arrived at Ravenwood after quite an adventure. Rest assured, I am well, but I must tell you of my journey here as I’m sure it would make a wonderful addition to our narrative collection. Dear Lottie, can you believe that I must begin with, ‘It was a dark and stormy night?’ Such a beginning is always sure to predict a story will become one of our favorites and that is how this one starts. I arrived in Haleton and had to wait for a driver from Ravenwood to fetch me. The driver, a lovely older man named Mr. Thistlewaite, finally arrived and we set off into the night. And there our tale begins, as it was a dark and stormy night, with rain pelting down on us. I’m sure dear Thistle (for so Mr. Thistlewaite is called) was miserable outside in the rain, but he is a stalwart soul and did not utter a word of complaint. Shockingly, our carriage suffered an accident and dear Thistle was injured, trapped beneath the wreckage. Desiring to retrieve help, I set off into the woods on my own, armed with a pistol Thistle had given me. A pistol, Lottie! Can you imagine?

Elinore had no desire to worry her friend overly and hesitated over the next part of her letter, deciding to make it all seem rather harmless.

After walking in the woods and being scared nearly witless several times by what was surely only squirrels and foxes searching for berries and nuts, I had the life scared out of me a second time that night. Mr. Caleb Vollmond, my cousin through my uncle, Hayter, happened upon me in the woods. I’m sure when I write the events down in one of our stories, it shall be very exciting and gripping, but truth be told, I was sick with fear. I threatened to shoot him with Thistle’s pistol! He, along with some other men, managed to free Mr. Thistlewaite and I found myself not long after at Ravenwood.

The manor is quite large and though it is grand, I do confess that I miss my smaller lodgings back at home. Although I daresay I cannot call the house where I grew up that word anymore, or can I? Is it still my home though I no longer reside there? Will it always be my home though I may never sleep there again?

Such woolgathering will hardly be productive and will only leave me maudlin, so I shall leave those thoughts where they rest now - quiet in my head.