Ravenwood(28)

“Don’t you look lovely. I had a feeling that you would look wonderful in it. You share the same coloring as my late wife.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” she replied, holding posture straight and stiff. “I’m very grateful for the loan of the garment.”

Hayter made a ‘tsk tsk’ sound. “Not a loan. A gift. You do the dress justice far more so than having it sit in some cabinet going dusty and moth-ridden.”

“That’s very kind of you.” He remained behind Elinore like a long, ominous shadow - just out of her line of sight.

“I trust you had a pleasant afternoon?” His fingers exuded slight pressure against the bones of her collar and she forced a smile to her lips.

“Yes, thank you. I availed myself of your library.”

“Ah, the library,” he said, squeezing the meat of where her neck met her shoulder. “And did you find anything… interesting?”

The way he said the word made her mind instantly flit to the dangerously improper story she’d read about Pasiphae and she wondered if he somehow knew she’d been reading an entirely indecent book for a lady of her station and age. He moved away from her, toward his own chair, his hand trailing across the bare skin of her shoulder as he did. His touch felt slick and raised gooseflesh on her arms.

“Are you cold? Perhaps you should sit closer to me. For warmth.”

She swallowed thickly. “I’m fine. A brief chill, nothing more.” She placed her napkin on her lap, taking a sip of the tepid water that was already at the setting in front of her.

“As for the library, I’m not sure if I’ve found anything of interest yet. You’ve quite a large collection.”

“Ravenwood is particularly well-endowed. With what did you occupy yourself all this time?”

“I met Thistle’s daughter, Alice. We discussed all sorts of things, as girls our ages often do.” Though Elinore believed there was nothing insignificant or inconsequential about her writing or Alice’s drawings, she and Charlotte had long ago learned the best way to defer attention or notice of their extreme interest in books and writing was to cloak it all in the frivolous vacuity that was generally attributed to their sex.

Hayter smiled, his teeth like sharp swords in his mouth. “Frocks, fabric and flowers?” he asked.

Elinore curved her lips. “Exactly so. I’m sure you’d find it horribly boring.”

“Oh, I doubt I’d find it too tortuous to spend an afternoon between you two.”

Elinore’s heart rabbit-beat at his words. Their delivery and the look he had on his face entirely inappropriate. She nearly breathed a sigh of relief when one of the servants came in bearing two bowls.

“Will your nephew not be joining us?” she asked as her bowl was placed before her. It looked like some kind of stew and her stomach turned over with greedy hunger as the wonderful scent hit her nostrils.

“Ah, Mrs. Thistlewaite’s special, rabbit stew. Quite a treat.” Hayter took a mouthful of stew, rolling it around in his mouth lasciviously before answering her. “I’m afraid my nephew is still occupied out in the woods. I’ve not heard from him all day.”

Elinore took a bite of stew and found her mouth flooding with saliva as it hit her tongue. It was savory and bold, thick and heavy. She looked longingly at the plate of rolls in the middle of the table, wishing she could grab one and tear at it with her teeth and then use the bits of it to soak up all the juice.

“Would you like some bread?” Hayter asked, his head tipping slightly toward the plate and Elinore realized with a flush that she’d been staring unblinking at the rolls.

She swallowed. “Perhaps one, thank you.” Her manners were atrocious this evening. She took a deep breath before having another bite of stew, willing herself to slow down.

“Do hunting trips often keep your nephew from Ravenwood long?” she asked, loathing the thought of eating alone with Hayter again and again.

Hayter’s lips twisted slightly. “At times.”

Elinore pushed her stew around slightly with her spoon. “He mentioned he was hunting the wolf that bit me. Do you hunt as well?”

Something flashed across Hayter’s face; the expression unrecognizable to her. “Most definitely.”

Hayter snapped at one of the servants and he came forward with a decanter, ready to pour Elinore wine. She politely placed the tips of her fingers over the empty glass waiting on the table.

“Thank you. I’m quite fine with water.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Not having wine with dinner is simply… savage,” Hayter replied and he nodded at the servant. Elinore felt she had no choice but to move her hand away so that the poor man could pour. He served her a generous portion and she murmured her thanks, eyeing it carefully.

“You must try it,” Hayter said, picking up his own glass and swirling the liquid before taking a long sip. “It’s from the cellar. I had it brought out to honor you joining us at Ravenwood.”

Elinore took a sip of the dark red wine, the flavor bursting across her tongue. It was heady and smooth, with a hint of fruit. “It’s quite lovely.”

The doors to the dining room opened and Caleb came in, looking slightly wild and unkempt from his day. Elinore couldn’t help the rush of relief she felt upon viewing her cousin. Though she knew him no better than her uncle, there was something more civilized about him. He strode into the room, pulling off his hunting gloves and seating himself across the table from Elinore, to the left of Hayter. Caleb nodded, his head inclining slightly in greeting to Elinore, which she returned with a slight nod of her own. She glanced toward at Hayter, seeing his jaw working slightly.