Ravenwood(41)

At Alice’s melancholy look, Elinore quickly finished the seam of her knitting and then presented the finished product to Alice.

“Well, I hope this makes you happy. New socks,” she said with a flourish.

“Are you sure?” Alice asked, her hand hovering over them, as if afraid to touch. “You were knitting for several days on them. Wouldn’t you like them for yourself?”

“I’d much rather see your smile when you wear them and your feet are warm.”

Alice grinned, the expression lighting up her eyes as she snatched the newly finished socks from Elinore, clutching them close to her chest. “Thank you. I shall tell everyone they were made by you.”

Elinore waved a hand. “Only if you don’t show them the uneven bits where I accidentally dropped stitches.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Elinore felt accomplished as Alice smiled over her gift. She liked doing things for people and the happiness that Alice was now exuding was well worth it. “Now, I’ve been terribly lax and haven’t asked after your father yet today. How is he doing?”

“I sat with him last night and this morning,” Alice began, leaning in as she spoke. “He asked after you and I said you were quite well and I passed along your wishes for his speedy recovery.”

“Thank you,” enthused Elinore. “He’s doing better?”

“I believe so. The doctor will be out again tomorrow to check on his progress.” Alice fidgeted with her skirt. “He wondered, though, if you still had his pistol? Or the knife?”

Surprised by such an odd question, Elinore had to think for a moment. “Caleb took the pistol that night. I’ve not seen it since. And the knife…” Elinore recalled how the sensation of the blade sliding into the wolf’s skin had travelled up the knife, settling into her fingers and bones. “It must be lost in the forest. I… stabbed the wolf with it.”

“Oh, that’s good that Caleb has the pistol. Unfortunate about the knife.” Alice looked troubled and thoughtful at the news.

“I’m sure if you ask Caleb, he’ll return it.”

“Yes, of course he will,” Alice said smoothly. “We had worried that it was lost or… with Hayter.”

How odd. Elinore wanted to ask more, but wasn’t quite sure exactly what question she needed to pose.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Alice said suddenly, opening up her sketch book. “While I’ve been sitting with my father, I’ve had time to sketch a few items to go along with your writings. I confess I’m desperate to know what you think.”

She flipped open her book and Elinore gasped as she saw such detailed and intricate sketches of what had been her most personal dreams. Alice’s work was amazing. On the pages were myriads of dense forests, trees and foliage, hovering over a faceless heroine. The image evoked the very feelings Elinore had during her dream - the feeling of being enclosed, of being somewhat trapped, but also… safe. Elinore reached out and touched the page.

“Alice, this is wonderful.”

Alice’s face brightened. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, Alice. It’s fantastic,” Elinore breathed, her fingers hovering over the pictures. She carefully flipped the sketchbook over and saw a raven, perched on the shoulder of a figure that bore an incredible likeness to herself.

“I saw you, one morning, out walking with Hayter. You passed by a window in the room my father is in. I saw the raven on your shoulder,” Alice said, the words quiet and low, as though it were a secret.

“It was quite unusual. I’ve no idea what caused it to happen.”

Alice fiddled with the edges of the sketchbook, worrying the paper. “Have you had similar dreams?”

Elinore nodded. “I have. Of the raven and the wolf. I keep meaning to write more of it down. Perhaps if I get this strange and unusual furniture out of my brain, it will no longer haunt my nights.” She reached the end of Alice’s sketches, noting that Alice had even sketched on the inside and back cover of her book. “You seem to be in need of some paper.”

Alice sighed. “Yes, and charcoal. I’ve run out and my fingers are itching to draw more.”

“It’s the same when I write. As soon as I’m out of ink or paper, I always come up with the most wonderful ideas.”

“I’ll have to wait for Caleb to take a trip into Haleton and ask if he’ll be able to get me some.”

“There’s some writing paper in the desk, I believe, and surely we must be able to find you some charcoal around Ravenwood.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to steal any of the paper you use for your writing! And I know you’ve also been using it for your letters.”

It was quite true that Elinore had a small stack of letters already written for Charlotte and waiting for a time to send them to post. She dreaded asking Hayter to do it, feeling like he might open her correspondence and read it. Also, she did not want to be indebted to him for anything. Her only hope was, like Alice, to wait until Caleb went to town.

“It’s likely the only other suitable paper is in Hayter’s den.” Alice looked forlorn and dejected.

“Would Hayter object to you having some?” Elinore asked.

Alice moved her shoulders up and down in a shrug. “I do not even want to ask.”