Ravenwood(39)

“Have you a need to travel into Haleton often for business?” she asked.

“Quite, I’m afraid. Many things to do, people to see.”

He sounded so proud of himself and all she could think was how grateful she was that he would likely have to leave the estate for his affairs.

“It must be difficult to manage an estate of this size.”

“I’m sure that the business of running a large estate must seem unfathomable.” Hayter patted her hand and Elinore made a conscious effort not to clench her teeth at the gesture.

“Very much so,” she lied. She had no doubt that running an estate was work and took an investment of time, but it was hardly unimaginable to her. She could imagine a great deal.

“Are there any tenants on your land?”

Hayter waved his hand. “Some. I leave that to Caleb as well. He checks in on them or discusses their issues. They pay their taxes and don’t cause trouble. It’s no concern of mine.”

The loud squawk of a bird above had Elinore tilting her head up to the sky where a large black bird, a raven, was swooping and circling around them. She had a sudden flashback to her dreams the past two nights, of a raven sitting on her shoulder, whispering in a strange language in her ear.

“Ah, our estate’s namesake. A raven.” Hayter tipped his head up, watching the bird flap its wings above them.

The raven cawed again, its voice loud and shrill in the morning air.

“We’ve quite an affinity for them and they’ve always been a talisman of sorts for our family.”

The raven suddenly swooped down and, to Elinore’s shock, came to perch on her shoulder. She flinched slightly and tried to move away, inadvertently leaning more into Hayter’s space. She thought her quick movements would startle the bird away, but it remained resolutely perched on her shoulder, its talons securing its station by digging into her thick shawl.

“How remarkable,” Hayter said, his voice far too close to Elinore’s ear for her liking. She felt trapped between the bird and Hayter. Upon consideration of the two, she decided the bird was the least of her troubles. She leaned out of Hayter’s space and straightened herself, feeling the shell of her ear touch against the feathers of the bird. It was a comfortable weight against her shoulder.

“It appears that you belong at Ravenwood, my dear. Even the ravens think so.”

Hayter didn’t seem surprised at all by the bird perched on Elinore’s shoulder. In fact, he had a slight smile on his lips. Incredibly, at least to Elinore if not to Hayter, the raven stayed perched on her shoulder for the remainder of their walk. Hayter had a slow, relaxed pace and though Elinore tried to speed up a few times, he would exert slight pressure on her arm, tucked into his elbow, and she was forced to slow down again. She asked him about himself, surmising that if she did, he would likely tell her his entire life story. Her instincts were correct. Hayter’s face lit up at her question and Elinore found she could stare straight ahead and enjoy the scenery as they walked. She kept moderate attention focused on Hayter and his words, making the appropriate listening sounds that all ladies knew. Various forms of ‘oh my,’ ‘how extraordinary,’ ‘very interesting,’ ‘tell me more.’

Though she couldn’t be certain of the time, she was sure they’d walked for over an hour or perhaps more. By the time they came back to the manor, her dress was wet to the knees. She’d have to change for the remainder of the day and ask Mrs. Davenport if the mud she’d collected during the walk should be washed out straight away, or if it would be best to let it dry and brush it out.

Once back inside the manor, Elinore made a motion to pull away from Hayter, but he stopped her, his fingers too tight on her arm, just over the bite marks. She held back a wince, having a strange notion it was exactly what he was hoping for.

“I had a lovely time. It shall be our routine to have a morning walk.”

Elinore could feel her smile was tight and practiced. “Of course. But I’m afraid my dresses may not fare so well early in the morning.” She gestured down to the wet fabric that clung to her legs. Hayter looked down, seeing it for the first time. “If you’ll excuse me, I must track down Mrs. Davenport and beg her assistance.” Elinore extricated herself from Hayter’s grip with a firm, “Good day,” and made her way swiftly up the stairs. She passed by one of the servants along the way, a young maid, and asked if she could either direct Elinore to Mrs. Davenport or have the housekeeper come by Elinore’s room.

Once safely back in her chambers, Elinore exhaled and leaned against the door. It appeared her uncle was one of those tiresome men who wanted Elinore to fawn and smile over them and their ‘impressive’ works. Elinore had more than her share of dealing with men of such a nature, but she must be getting older and more jaded in her years because she found herself angry and vicious toward Hayter. How dare he act as though he had a right to stand close to her? How could he possibly think that all she would want to discuss was him and his accomplishments? And then to have the gall to declare that it was a ‘lovely’ time and should be repeated! Elinore couldn’t recall ever feeling so angry in her life. She had the sudden urge to tear at something with her teeth.

The bite marks on her arm throbbed suddenly, shooting a rush of heat through her skin and blood. Her breath caught and she cradled her arm close to her, inhaling slowly and then exhaling. It wasn’t good for her to be so worked up over Hayter. She composed herself and then set to work taking off the wet gown. Minutes later, Mrs. Davenport arrived and swore she knew just how to handle Elinore’s dress. Fortunately, she already had the other two dresses from Elinore’s trunk cleaned and pressed and would bring them up shortly for Elinore to change into. Feeling a quick rush of affection for the woman, Elinore darted forward and hugged her, completely ignoring the impropriety of such a thing while she stood in her underthings.