Ravenwood(25)

Elinore leaned in closer, her voice taking on a teasing tone. “Perhaps some of them are haunted and shall come to life one of these days and roam around the manor looking for the remainder of their innards.” She laughed at her own overly dramatic tone, but Alice instead looked horrified. Elinore’s amusement died out. “I’m just being silly, of course.”

“Of course,” Alice repeated. “It’s just… they’re horrid, those animals. I daresay I wouldn’t sleep a wink if I thought they could come to life.”

“I’m sorry, it was a thoughtless joke. Think no more of it.” Elinore paged through some of Alice’s drawings, taking time to examine each one carefully. Alice was greatly talented. There were many drawings of the trees outside the window and in different seasons - full of leaves in summer and bare branches in winter. They were gorgeous and she said as much, trying to raise the girl’s spirits.

Alice blushed. “I’m rather fond of sketching. Oh! That’s one of the animals from Mr. Vollmond’s study,” Alice exclaimed as Elinore flipped the page over. It was a sketching of a great stag’s head - large, with impossibly huge antlers. “I see it sometimes, when the door is open. I could not do it justice, I’m afraid. I am loathe to stare at it for too long.” Alice lowered her voice to a whisper, “I swear though it’s goodly dead, it watches you back.”

“I’m sure if either of us were trapped in one of our novels, we’d shriek and faint dead away,” Elinore said. “They’re only enjoyable when you are safe and warm in your own bed with a glass of warm milk to help you sleep.” Thinking back to the night before when she’d been in the woods alone and afraid, Elinore knew the truth of her words. It was all fine and good to read of adventure and mystery, but it was quite another thing to be in the midst of it oneself.

“We’re lucky to have the books we do here. He collects them, but the elder Mr. Vollmond does not care for them at all. I’ve never seen him read. Not one!” Alice said the words as though they were scandalous. They ought to be, thought Elinore. The idea of being surrounded by all these books and not picking up one was nearly unthinkable. Although when she tried to picture her uncle reclining with a book, she found it difficult. He was too… predatory, she thought, to be satisfied with something so domesticated.

“And Mr. Vollmond the younger, does he read?” Elinore asked, thinking of her cousin.

“Caleb?” Alice queried, as though there was a myriad of Vollmond men in the house and she had to be sure she speaking of the correct one. “Yes, he’s often in here reading. He lets me stay in here and sketch even when he’s reading or working. He once brought me a new set of charcoals when he saw I was almost out.” Alice sighed. “He’s more like his father was. Not at all like Mr. Vollmond the elder.”

“I didn’t realize you knew the rest of the family.”

“I’ve lived at Ravenwood all my life and my parents worked for Mr. Caleb’s parents. When they died…” Alice’s expression went far away and sad. “Mr. Hayter came to take over the estate. It’s not been the same since.”

Elinore frowned, confused by something. “Was Caleb so young he could not take over the estate at his parents’ death?”

Alice looked anxious, as though Elinore had asked her a very improper question. Perhaps she had. Elinore was not sure of the etiquette of the manor and perhaps Alice thought her quite rude for asking so openly about the inheritance of it.

“The Vollmond Estate doesn’t always pass from father to son the same way other estates do.”

“I see,” replied Elinore, though she did not. She wanted to press the issue further and ask what Alice meant, but the poor girl was wringing her pencil between her hands so hard, it could snap at any moment. She clearly didn’t want to continue the discussion. Elinore paged through more of Alice’s drawings, coming across an incredible portrait of Caleb. “Oh. This is extraordinary,” she said, noting Alice’s work.

“He’s shockingly handsome, isn’t he?”

Elinore laughed, her nerves bursting forth in a rush. “Alice!”

“Well, he is!” Alice asserted, her anxiety dissipating at the new topic. “You’ve got eyes, you’ve seen him.”

“He’s very well blessed indeed,” Elinore managed, thinking of Caleb’s dark good looks. “Last night, in the forest when I was searching for help for your father, I half thought he was an apparition or some dark fairy appeared in the night. He startled me quite badly, coming out of the forest as he did.” She looked down at her bandaged arm. The heat from the bite marks was extraordinary, although she herself didn’t feel feverish. She touched light fingertips to her arm and could feel the warmth emanating from the wounds. When she thought about what could have happened to her out in the woods, she felt a little sick. “I’m quite fortunate I only suffered minor injuries.” Elinore looked up and caught Alice’s thoughtful and grave expression.

“It’s… unfortunate that you were bitten.” Alice’s hand reached out for a moment as though she would touch Elinore, but at the last moment she pulled her hand back. “And you feel quite all right?”

“Yes,” Elinore answered. “I was thrown about when the carriage turned over and I’m a little sore today, but certainly nothing time won’t cure.”