Ravenwood(79)

Caleb paused. “Perhaps both. I don’t know. I’ve always been a werewolf so I’m not sure.”

They managed to work in silence for a stretch of time. Alice joined them after lunch, seemingly pleased to be in both their company. Elinore and Alice became over-excited discussing their work - writings and drawings and took their discussion outside to the grounds where they could take a walk in the afternoon air and be as loud as they wanted. The air was fresh and crisp and Elinore breathed deeply, feeling alive and invigorated.

“You seem in good spirits today,” Alice commented. “I was worried when you were ill yesterday.”

Elinore had forgotten that she’d spent most of yesterday ensconced in her room dealing with her mortification over kissing Caleb impetuously. How different today was by comparison!

“Yes, I’m feeling much better today,” she said, her smile bright and wide. Alice pulled her into a quick and fierce hug, which Elinore returned in kind.

They walked and talked, heedless of the time passing in the way of young ladies caught up in conversation. Toward the end of their walk, though, as they headed back to the manor, Elinore felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand. Someone was watching them. She felt it, deep in her bones. Her eyes drifted toward the woods, gaze narrowing as she peered into the dense foliage. Was there movement in the trees? Could it perhaps only be small woodland creatures and other animals of the forest? Or something else? Alice tugged on her hand, cajoling her to come back to the manor and for them to sneak into the kitchen and pilfer tea and sweets. With one last look to the forest and the secrets that they held, Elinore relented and followed Alice.

Elinore was both loath and inclined to sneak into Hayter’s den to get to the secret passage. She didn’t want to be caught by Hayter nor run into him unplanned, but she also wanted to have another look around at his things, his space. She was comfortable now in calling her feelings as honestly as she could. She disliked him. Perhaps she had disliked him from the moment she came to Ravenwood and could not articulate why, but now she felt as though she had the words to describe why she disliked him. Her dislike made her feel as though she needed to know more about him. Know thy enemy, she thought, but she couldn’t recall from where she knew the saying.

Caleb was no longer in the library when Alice and Elinore returned with their pilfered goods - a hot pot of tea, some scones and apricot jam. Still, she found his scent lingered and when she breathed deeply; if she concentrated, she could find the unique scent that was him underneath the layers of books, furniture and paper, along with the rich spicy tea with which they’d absconded.

Afternoon gave way to night and Elinore dreaded dinner-time. Hayter was sure to be seated at the head of the table, lording his presence over her. Mary called Elinore to dinner at the usual time and she headed for the dining room with slow, measured steps. She paused outside the door, her mouth curving in displeasure when she could hear the clinking of wine glasses and cutlery indicating that both Caleb and Hayter were already seated in the room.

Dinner passed like a long, bitter winter storm with icy cuts and chilled barbs. Elinore did her best to eat her meal in peace, but Hayter was extraordinary at making even the most innocuous comments seem vulgar and rude. Elinore watched as Caleb’s hands tightened around his cutlery, but he did not respond to his uncle’s foul behavior. Hayter was gleefully waiting to see if he could shock Elinore or Caleb into arguing. As a lady, she’d learned well how to keep her manners, however, when Hayter said something crass and leaned in close to give her a leering gaze and a wink, she’d had enough. Out of the corner of her eye, Elinore saw Caleb rise from his chair to intervene and she had the sudden thought that Hayter would rend his nephew limb from limb without a care. Turning to Hayter, she bared her teeth and let loose a low, growling sound and slapped the back of his hand with the flat end of her knife.

“You forget your manners, sir,” she said icily.

“Ah, but I am a wolf, dear girl. I only pretend to be a man.”

“Then perhaps I should treat you like an animal and have you chained outside during meal-times.”

The table was silent and she feared for a moment she had pushed to far. She reached out and took her wine glass, taking a large drink, feeling the liquid burn down her throat. Suddenly, Hayter laughed. It was rich and deep and caused a shiver to run down her spine.

“Wonderful, my dear, simply wonderful. What a wolf you will make.”

“We don’t yet know if the bite will take,” Caleb interrupted, jaw tense. He still gripped his cutlery tightly. Elinore wondered if the metal would bend under his hands.

Hayter waved a hand grandiosely as though that were a minor detail. He shot back the remainder of his own wine and then reached for the decanter to pour another glass, filling Elinore’s glass again as he did. Every moment thereafter seemed poised on a fulcrum - as though the wrong movement, the wrong gesture, the wrong word in either direction, would topple the table. Elinore finished her meal and excused herself without waiting for proper leave - rising from the table before either man could register her intention to move. Once back in her bedroom, she felt guilty for her escape. Would Caleb feel abandoned? Would he think she didn’t want to see him tonight? They’d not spoken of how things would progress between them and now she might have given him some sort of notion she no longer wanted to be with him. Elinore didn’t know the etiquette in a situation like this. Should she have stayed? Should she have made her wants clear? What was she to do now? She collapsed in a most undignified manner on the bed, sighing deeply. Why were there no rules for this? It was quite clear in the world of friendships and social calling what one was supposed to do. Should Elinore want to be friends with a young lady, she would call on them, or invite them to tea. Should the young lady want to pursue the friendship, there would be a return visit or invite. But Elinore did not know what the rules were when the other party was a gentleman. It ought to be taught at school, she thought, or perhaps by a specific ladies tutor. How else was she to know?