Ravenwood(60)

Elinore could guess very well what Hayter was intimating, but would not give him the satisfaction of expressing that she did.

“Perhaps,” she replied. In her lap, she ran her fingers over the cover of the book Caleb sent her, tracing the imperfections in the cloth.

Blissfully, Hayter excused himself after breakfast to attend to business although not before he took the opportunity to grasp Elinore’s hand where it rested on the table, squeezing her fingers slightly too hard. He admonished her to be a ‘good girl,’ and to practice the piano for at least an hour before she saw him again at dinner. She wondered how improbable it would seem if several piano strings suddenly snapped, rendering the instrument unplayable. His presence seemed to linger after he was gone and she felt the need to be outside, out in the air and away from the manor where he could be lurking around any corner, waiting to pounce.

Once outside it was easy to let the open air and warm sunshine assuage her feelings, like a salve on a wound. She breathed in deeply, cataloguing the scents she was coming to know and love as particular to Ravenwood Her nose wrinkled, a strange scent tickling her nostrils, one she could not place, but felt an immediately dislike for. Something sharp and coppery. She made her way to the stables - looking in on the quiet, solemn creatures would be just the thing to soothe her. As she approached, a young boy of perhaps twelve or thirteen led Storm out of the barn toward a small paddock. Elinore waved brightly to him, smiling when the young lad gave her a small wave in return. Storm whinnied and neighed, her feet kicking up as she pulled against the young boy, who had a hard time keeping his grip on her reins. He was well-footed, but no match for the horse, who was determined not to go into the paddock. She had no notion that she could be of help, knowing nothing about horses, but she didn’t like the idea of the young boy on his own with no assistance.

“Should I call someone?” Elinore asked, approaching carefully. She had no wish to upset the situation further. Storm tugged hard on the reins, freeing them from the boy’s hands and then darted back into the barn, out of sight.

The boy sighed. “I’ll call Mr. Jonah. He’ll know what to do.”

“Is she all right? Storm, I mean,” Elinore asked. The horse had seemed so calm and gentle the day before. However, it wasn’t as though Elinore knew much about animals.

“Something spooked her,” the boy said, his dusty hair falling a bit over his eyes as he looked around. “She usually likes to have a trot in the morning.”

Elinore inhaled again, the strange smell stronger and sharper here by the stable than it had been before up by the manor. “What is that smell?” she asked suddenly.

The boy looked up at her, his dark eyes confused. “I don’t know what you mean, miss?”

“That smell, it wasn’t here yesterday. It’s… metallic. Wet.” Elinore wrinkled her nose and then took a step closer to the paddock, finding the scent stronger. The ground suddenly gave an awful squelching sound under her feet and the horrid smell wafted up strongly, assailing her nostrils. She lifted her skirts and looked down at the ground, finding dark mud beneath her feet.

But it was not mud. It was blood. Blood and… other things.

“Go get Mr. Jonah straight away,” Elinore said to the young boy, keeping her voice low.

He darted off toward the stables as Elinore gingerly stepped backward. Her boots were covered in blood, the bottom of her skirt as well. Now that she knew what she was looking at, she could see the ground had been soaked in it, with bits of matter in the grass. She could not say what those bits were.

Hearing footsteps coming toward her, Elinore turned to see Jonah along with the young boy and George from the house.

“Miss Reed.” Jonah nodded at her and returned the same to him. “Young Pete says you wanted to see me.”

Elinore wasn’t sure if she should continue on in front of Pete. He looked young, but he was likely a country boy, used to things she had no knowledge of. Well, there was no time like the present and no need to dance around the topic.

“There’s a great deal of blood in this area. It’s likely what spooked the horse. I don’t know much about country ways, but I would think this is not a normal occurrence.”

Jonah and George exchanged a look and then stepped past Elinore, to the area she indicated with her hand, inspecting the ground. Their faces were grim.

Jonah turned to George and though he kept his voice low, Elinore had no trouble hearing his words. “Take Pete and take stock of the barn, see what’s missing. Round up some lads. We’re off to the woods today.” George nodded firmly and bowed quickly at Elinore before leading Pete toward the barn. Jonah took one last look at the blood on the ground and then came back to where Elinore stood.

“I don’t suppose you’re likely to faint.”

“I haven’t fainted yet.”

“You’re worthy of Ravenwood for sure,” he said cryptically, then sighed. “You’d be correct, miss. It’s not normal. But it’s not quite unexpected either.”

“The feral wolf.” Elinore had surmised as much. Jonah nodded again. “You’ll be going out with some men?”

Jonah’s jaw tightened. “We’ll have to. It’s hunting again. We’ll have to hunt it. Though without young Mr. Caleb…” he trailed off, looking into the woods.

“Is Hayter not as experienced? Or will he not go with you?”