Ravenwood(80)
Elinore placed the chair under the door handle as was her usual routine, unwilling to be without it. She wondered if such a construct could even stop Hayter as a wolf. She shivered at the thought. She stared at it for a long moment before turning away, determined to occupy herself. She busied herself reading and knitting, her eyes continually darting to the door, wondering if she should go to Caleb’s room. Knock upon the door? Let herself in if he was still downstairs? She tried to concentrate and listen for the familiar tone of Caleb’s voice. Perhaps he was still with Hayter. She was unable to focus, her feelings too scattered. Frustrated, she gave up on her tasks and decided to go to bed. She quickly changed and let her hair down, letting her fingers trail over the strands and imagining it was Caleb brushing her hair. Now would certainly be a good night for Mrs. Davenport to arrive with some of her calming tea, but it seemed Elinore was on her own. She tossed and turned on her bed before finally settling on her side facing the window. Through the open curtains, she could see the sharp, silver light of the moon, nearly full, as it bore down on the night. Only a few more nights until it would be complete. A deep longing pulled at her as her chest.
A soft knock at her door had her heart racing.
“Elinore? Are you awake?”
She exhaled. It was Caleb. Sliding out of bed, she pulled the chair away and opened the door. He looked up with a smile as she swung open the door. She rushed forward, gleefully throwing her arms around his neck, burying her face in the soft hollow beneath his ear. His arms came up and around her, warm and solid.
“I did not know the proper thing to do,” she said quietly as she pulled him into her room. “If I should have gone to your room or waited, although truthfully I could not bear another moment with Hayter.” She gave a shudder of distaste.
Caleb’s lips curled wryly. “He’s quite taxing at times.” His eyes paused on the chair by the door. “What is this?”
“Oh, I’ve been placing it under my door handle. For security,” she added at his confused look.
His eyes sharpened on her. “Has Hayter done something…”
Elinore shook her head. “Nothing other than be his usual, contrary self. But a woman must be careful and always on her guard.”
“I hope you do not feel that way with me. If you want me to go…”
She gripped his hand more tightly. “No!” she exclaimed and then realized how loud her voice had been. “I mean, I should like it very much if you stayed.” Was that too forward, she wondered? But then she realized she had passed that milestone some time back.
Caleb looked around her room and she wondered what he was searching for until he moved to her vanity and picked up her hairbrush. He glanced at her and she would have described his look as hesitant and shy. She gestured minutely to the bed and then blushed, sitting down gingerly on the bed. Caleb took a moment to pull off his boots and coat and then maneuvered himself behind her, leaning against her pillows, one leg spread out on the bed and the other bent with his foot on the floor. She was able to scoot backward and sit between his legs, already feeling the warmth of his body against hers, and inhaling the scent she’d come to associate with him. She crossed her legs, glad that her nightgown was billowy enough to cover her knees. Elinore closed her eyes as she felt the first brushstroke against her hair. Caleb brushed with long, smooth strokes, starting at the top of her scalp and running down the length of her hair. At times, he would pick up a small handful of strands and work his way carefully through some tangles at the end. His movements were uncertain and bashful. It was quite obvious he was afraid of pulling her hair too tightly or not working through it well enough. Nevertheless, it was very relaxing and Elinore’s mind went hazy. Her thoughts and worries felt foggy and very far away. Caleb remained silent as he brushed, but she heard the sound of his heart, even and strong. She swayed slightly backward with each pull of the brush, and then bobbed forward again when her hair was released from the bristles. Her eyelids grew heavy and she doubted she could open them if she wanted to. She found herself in the tremulous state in between land of partial sleep where her thoughts were disjointed and strange. In her mind, she could see the large trees of the forest looming over her, see the white wolf paused just at the peripheral of her vision, as if waiting for her to fall the remainder of the way into the dream world. The black wolf was poised beside the white one and Elinore felt warm and happy at his presence. But then, off to the side was movement in the trees - grey and white. A predatory presence circling them, watching them. The white wolf turned her head to the forest and sniffed, her long snout high in the air. Elinore could smell the same thing the she-wolf smelled - something strange and familiar all at once. The feral wolf. Its smell was slightly sour, making her nose wrinkle. Another delicate wiggling of the white wolf’s nose brought a different scent to Elinore’s olfactory senses - this one was decidedly male in its scent and also slightly familiar. Hayter? She would know him well enough, she supposed, to recognize him by scent. Even the thought was distasteful to her. A raven, Elinore’s raven, alighted on her shoulder, its familiar weight welcome to Elinore. With her wolf before her and her raven beside her, Elinore was complete. The raven pressed its beak against her ear and whispered more half words and sayings. Things about truth, about hiding, about being part of a pack. In the lazy, drifting world of pre-sleep, Elinore couldn’t make sense of it and didn’t want to stir herself to understand. Her eyes flickered over to where the black wolf licked at the white wolf’s ears, grooming her. Thoughts of the other two wolves seemed distant and unimportant. She sighed and with a strange sort of duality, she laid down in the forest and at the same time felt herself being tipped sideways in bed, feeling her soft pillow under her cheek. A long line of solid warmth pressed up against her back and she wiggled backward trying to get closer. A warm puff of air went across her ear and she knew it was from Caleb, breathing out in an amused, content huff, as she pressed closer into his warmth.