Ravenwood(65)

She dozed again - a light, fitful sleep that wasn’t deep enough for dreams nor for the seamless passing of time that came with a good night’s slumber. She was aware of the night rolling on, aware of the darkening of her room, of the fact that she had no candle and no fire lit. She wasn’t cold, though she should have been. Her stomach still roiled and rumbled with hunger and she curled in on herself. It was probably safe enough now, with the entire household asleep, for her to sneak into the kitchen and find some food. Mrs. Thistlewaite wouldn’t mind. Slipping out of bed, she donned her housecoat and crept to her door, as though even the soft sounds of her footsteps might alert someone who was still up and she should be pounced on in the dark.

Her door opened quietly and she peered out in the hallway. There were some candles still lit, burning low, and Elinore found she could see her way well enough. She grabbed a candle from a sconce and used it to light her way. Her feet moved lightly across the floor, nearly silent. Knowing Ravenwood as she did now, she easily found her way to the kitchen and paused, not sure where she should start looking for food. She sniffed the air and could smell some kind of stew and vegetables - tonight’s dinner. She did not know where the leftovers would be kept, if there were any. Just thinking about it made her mouth water. She set the candle down on the wooden counter top and rummaged around the kitchen. She nearly squealed in victory when she found a stone pot with a heavy lid in the icebox and inside found several rolls stuffed with meat and some butter. Probably leftover luncheon sandwiches. Though she heartily wished for some of the stew she could smell, she was happy enough with her found treasures. She ate three of them quickly, feeling the gnawing, sharp hunger abate after the third sandwich. She took a fourth and then paused before snatching a fifth. Mrs. Thistlewaite would no doubt wonder what had happened to them, but surely Elinore couldn’t be the only food thief in the manor. If anyone caught trouble for it, Elinore would speak up and simply say she felt better later on at night and came down to eat. It was the truth after all.

Grabbing her candle again, Elinore ate the fourth biscuit on her way out of the kitchen and started nibbling on the fifth as she made her way down the hallway, intent on heading back to her room. She stopped in front of the large double doors of the library. She wasn’t very tired, having slept for some of the day and been without a walk outside. Perhaps she could pop in and grab a book. She thought longingly of the new book Caleb sent her, but even the thought of the book made her feel embarrassed again. Maybe she could take some parchment and an inkwell to work on her writing. She finished off the fifth biscuit and entered the library, brushing her hand off on her housecoat as she did. There was a fire burning low in the fireplace, long forgotten. One of the footmen made sure there was always one burning for Elinore as she spent quite a bit of time in the room. The room was pleasantly warm as always, and she headed immediately to the shelves, holding her candle up to the spines of the book, searching for a title that would occupy her mind.

“Elinore.”

She dropped her candle and the flame was extinguished as it fell to the floor. She spun around and in the half-light saw Caleb rising from the desk. His hair was mussed and she wondered for a moment if he’d been waiting for her, but then realized that was impossible. It wasn’t as though she had a habit of coming to the library late at night. Seeing one of his ledgers spread out on the desk, she surmised he must have been working late, probably burying his fingers in his soft hair while he did. She backed up at bit, feeling nervous and anxious as he came toward her. Her eyes darted to the door and when she looked back at him, he saw his do the same, no doubt wondering if she would dart past him like she did this morning. God, had it only been this morning? He seemed to turn his body slightly to the side, as though preparing to block her from an escape. She straightened her shoulders. She was an adult and needed to apologize. She had made a dreadful, mortifying mistake, but she would not die from it. No matter how much she wished she might.

“I…” Elinore began, licking her lips nervously. Caleb’s eyes tracked the movement, flickering down and then back up as he came closer. He stood before her now and she raised her chin. “I apologize. For this morning. And how I… attacked you. It was very rash and inappropriate of me and I’m heartily sorry for making you uncomfortable. I will not do it again.”

Elinore fisted the fabric of her housecoat, trying to keep her hands still. There. She’d done it. She would remain in the library until Caleb either accepted her apology or indicated that he could not. Her heart sank at the thought, but she would accept his decision and hoped they could still be cordial to one another. She would not run off again. She owed him the courtesy of waiting for his response.

He took another step forward and was very much in her space now. Had the bookcase not been against her back, she would have moved away. Or perhaps not. There was something very heady about his nearness. Elinore was taller than most of her female friends, but not as tall as Caleb. She had to tilt her head up to look at him. She didn’t think she’d ever been so close to a man in her life, other than her father, and there was certainly nothing paternal about the feelings she had toward Caleb. She was normally able to see the bright, clear color of his eyes, but in the dark of the library, with only the low light of the fireplace and the candle that he’d had burning on the desk, she couldn’t make them out. They seemed quite dark, as though they had no color at all and were only pupils. He moved impossibly closer still. Good Lord, she felt like she couldn’t catch her breath though she’d hardly been doing anything of a physical nature. One of his hands came to rest on the bookshelf beside her head and she turned slightly to look it, letting her eyes travel down the length of his forearm, where his shirt was folded up to the elbow. She swallowed, her eyes flickering up to him again. His other hand came up and cupped her jaw and her heart stuttered. Even if the bookshelf had not been behind her, a thousand horses could not have persuaded her to move at this moment. His thumb brushed against the soft skin of her cheek and her breath hitched in her lungs and a … delicious feeling coiled in her belly. Caleb bent his head down and Elinore froze, not wanting to move and break the moment.