“I’m grateful for the loan. Please let the owner know I appreciate it,” Elinore said truthfully in response to Mrs. Davenport’s worries. It was a fine enough dress, clearly made to sustain a lot of wear. Elinore had no doubt it was likely some maid’s finest outfit and she felt horrible for needing to borrow it. She vowed to leave it in as good of condition as she received it in, and perhaps see if she could send for a scarf or kerchief as a token of her thanks to whomever had loaned her the dress. Or if they were in need of a pair of socks, Elinore could knit her something in any color she chose. She said as much to Mrs. Davenport who looked at her scandalously.
“There’s hardly any need for a lady such as you to worry about that,” she said, leading the way for Elinore out of the room and down the hall. “I believe it’s one of Alice’s, Thistle’s daughter.”
“Oh, Thistle mentioned her. I should like to make her acquaintance if she’s amenable. I understand she’s quite the reader.”
As they descended the stairs, Mrs. Davenport shook her head fondly. “That girl always has her nose in a book when she should be working on her studies or her chores. Reading fanciful tales of knights and spooks. It’s a wonder her head isn’t full of faerie magic and aether only.”
Elinore thought she’d quite like Alice once she got to know her. It seemed they would be of a kindred spirit. “Would I be able to meet with her today?”
“Oh, I’m sure if you wanted to, miss, we could arrange that. Fond of books yourself?”
“Quite. I had to pack them separately and they should be coming by shipment. I admit, I fear for them more than for any of my other things. My clothes can all be easily washed or mended, but my books are…” Elinore sighed, her throat tight. How could she do justice to her books? Some were read with her mother, some her father, some were shared with Charlotte, some were her closest companions during sickness or long rainy days. She took a deep breath. “I’m rather hoping Alice and I might share some common interests in books.”
Mrs. Davenport took Elinore’s hand and patted it warmly. “That’s quite kind of your, miss. I daresay the young girl would be keen to meet you. She’s a bookish little thing and I fear most of us don’t know what to do with her, we’re too busy with our work.”
Elinore felt happy at the words. Alice might be younger than Elinore herself, but an avid reader was surely the best quality one could hope for in an acquaintance. Charlotte and Elinore both shared a voracious love of books and Elinore was hopeful that perhaps Alice would have some recommendations for Elinore that she could then pass on to Charlotte.
“If you feel up to it, I can take you by the library after you have a bite to eat. As long as Mr. Hayter approves, of course. He has quite a collection.”
“That would be lovely, thank you.” Elinore tried to school her face into a pleasant expression, wondering what would happen if Mr. Hayter, her uncle, did not approve.
In the morning light, Elinore could now make out the features of the manor. It was still dark and somewhat gloomy as the hallways had only small windows. While they appeared to be kept rather impeccably clean, they were hardly large enough to let in large quantities of light. However dark the manor was, it was impeccably kept. Elinore had on her boots from the night before, and although she’d managed to clean some of the mud off with Mrs. Davenport’s help before she donned them, she feared she was leaving dusty footprints as she walked. The housekeeper had offered to fetch her a pair of shoes as well but Elinore had been cursed with slightly large feet and knew finding a pair of ladies shoes that fit her would be akin to a miracle. The manor was silent and solemn around them, save for Mrs. Davenport’s friendly chatter - a sound Elinore found she could get used to. It was warm and soothing.
“Mrs. Thistlewaite is our cook, and though she was quite worried for her husband, nothing keeps a good woman from work and Mrs. Thistlewaite is one of the best. She had a few offers from some of the serving girls to take on the meals today so that she could sit with Thistle, but she said nothing would help take her mind off her worry better than work. Alice will be sitting with Thistle while the missus cooks.”
They made their way down the grand staircase and then another hallway. Elinore marveled at the size of the manor. It had a sparse, grand feeling and on the whole seemed rather masculine. She supposed since the death of her Aunt Victoria, the place had been without a woman’s touch. Oh, how she would have loved dearly to meet her mother’s sister. Or perhaps, so soon after her mother’s death, it would have been too much to meet someone who was bound to be similar to her. Well, there was nothing to be done for it now. She should count herself lucky to have relations who were willing to take her in and provide for her, she mused. A small voice still whispered at the back of her head, however, that she was more than capable of taking care of herself. But, many young ladies would not be so fortunate. Though Elinore already missed her town and her acquaintances there, and of course dear Charlotte, she knew she was very lucky to have family who were so prompt to take her in upon the tragedy of her parents dying.
With that thought, Elinore forced a calm, serene expression as she entered the dining room. An older man seated at the end of the table immediately stood up. He was tall, fit and had dark brown hair and sharp blue eyes. He was younger than she expected. Elinore had thought that Victoria married older, but the man who stood before her was likely only in his forties - hardly a doting old man. He smiled when he saw her and Elinore felt her heart quicken - not in the way that a handsome gentleman or a lovely turn on the dance floor would quicken it. No, this was more like the shock of fear she’d had last night upon being alone in the dark, cold and scared and trying to find Ravenwood. His smile was sharp, like an animal’s grin might be - somewhat feral and ferocious.
“Ah, dear Elinore. I wish we could have become better acquainted under more congenial circumstances.” He bowed slightly and then came around the table, standing before her. “A pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Reed. Hayter Vollmond, at your service.” He fixed his sharp blue eyes on her and Elinore froze, like a rabbit in the woods. He held a hand out and she reluctantly placed her own in his, her manners not allowing her to leave his gesture unresolved. His eyes fixed immediately on the bandages on her arm and she swore she saw his nostrils flare slightly. He kissed her knuckles and she had the urge to snatch her hand back and wipe it on the dress.
“What are you wearing, my dear?” he questioned, looking her up and down.
Elinore looked down at the dress, not sure how to respond. “A dress, my lord,” she said, for lack of anything else. Hayter’s eyes darted to Mrs. Davenport who seemed to flinch under his gaze.
“Miss Reed’s own dress was in quite a state after last night. I have secured one of Alice’s dresses for the time being.”
“Nonsense,” Hayter said, his sharp eyes coming back to Elinore. He again looked her up and down and Elinore had the urge to raise her hand and cover her tender throat, though she could not say exactly why. “She looks to be of a size similar to the late Mrs. Vollmond. I’m sure you can find something in the closets more suitable for our dear Miss Reed to wear.”
“Yes, sir. Of course. I shall check immediately.”
“See that you do.” Hayter’s words were sharp and Elinore felt herself flinch slightly at his tone. Hayter turned to the table, still holding onto Elinore’s fingers. “I believe you’ve already met your cousin, my brother’s son, Caleb Vollmond.”
Caleb stood stiff and still at the table, nodding his head once at Elinore. She managed a small curtsey.
“Yes, sir. We… met last night in the woods.” Elinore supposed ‘met’ wasn’t exactly the correct word for their encounter the night prior, but she could think of nothing else.
“My nephew has told me the details. I was quite distressed to hear of your troubles,” replied Hayter. He lifted her hand, examining her bandaged arm. “I see Mrs. Davenport has set you to rights with her poultice. A wonderful gift she has for healing.” He turned to smile at Mrs. Dav
enport who, like Elinore, froze under his gaze.
“Well, I imagine you’re quite famished.” Hayter turned, tucking Elinore’s arm in his and leading her to the table. Hayter pulled a chair back and Elinore took her seat.
In the daylight, Caleb was fiercely attractive and Elinore cautioned herself not to stare so openly. Her eyes flickered up and then back down at the table. Hayter pushed her chair in, his arm brushing over her shoulder as he did, before rounding the table and taking his seat at the head again. Once he sat, Caleb followed suit. A servant came forward and draped a napkin over Elinore’s lap, offering some tea as he did. Elinore nodded quickly, grateful for something to do with her hands. The borrowed gown pulled at her shoulders as she fixed her tea and the skirt hitched up a little too short for her liking. She moved her feet under the table so as not to expose any of her leg by accident.
“That will be all, Mrs. Davenport,” Hayter said, not looking away from Elinore as she sipped her beverage.
“Yes, sir. Please fetch me if you need anything.” Mrs. Davenport gave Elinore a fleeting, kindly smile and then left, leaving Elinore feeling somewhat exposed in the room. Elinore had the urge to run after her and offer to assist, if only to have an excuse to leave.
“I’m so glad you’re here safe, at Ravenwood now. We’ve sent some men out to collect your things from the wreck,” Hayter said conversationally, cutting into some meat on his plate.
“Thank you, sir.” She sipped her tea, calling on every etiquette lesson she’d ever had to think of something to say. “It will be good to have my things.”
“I hope you aren’t too shaken up over the events of last night,” Hayter said.
Elinore’s eyes darted over to Caleb, though she didn’t know why. His eyes were blue like Hayter’s, perhaps a family resemblance along the jaw and the strong brow, but other than that, they were quite different. Hayter had a lean, whipcord sort of physique while Caleb appeared slightly more broad in the shoulders. They both watched her carefully - Hayter’s gaze making her feel somewhat pinned down. Caleb’s stare was more careful, more circumspect.
“No, sir.”
Hayter waved a hand. “You needn’t address me as ‘sir,' dear Nora,” he said, shortening her name. “It makes me feel old, and I’m not that ancient. Simply ‘Hayter’ will do.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly…” Elinore began, stammering her words.
“You could address him as I do,” Caleb said, his voice easy and polished. “Uncle.”
Elinore smiled a bit at Caleb, grateful for his input. “Yes, I suppose that would do, thank you.”
“I’m hardly old enough to be an uncle to either of you.”
“You’re old enough,” Caleb said, his tone a little sharp. Hayter fixed his gaze on Caleb and the younger man tipped his head down slightly and off to the side - an odd gesture that Elinore did not understand. It made her uneasy. Hayter cut a piece of meat from his plate and placed it carefully in his mouth, chewing it slowly, never once breaking eye contact with Caleb as he did. A servant came to Elinore’s side, ready to serve some soup, if she wished and she nodded once in acquiescence. As soon as the smell hit her nose, she realized she was famished. The first mouthful of soup burst across her tongue in savory delight and Elinore wondered if one bowl would be enough to fill her empty belly. The silence in the room made her pause after a few minutes and she looked up from her meal to find both Caleb and Hayter watching her. She’d nearly finished the bowl in a mad rush. She put her spoon down, horrified at her behavior.
“How gauche of me,” she said, feeling her cheeks heat as she pushed her bowl away slightly. The same servant appeared again and whisked it away.
Hayter’s eyes gleamed. “Not at all. It’s wonderful to see a lady with such a healthy appetite.” He tipped his head at the arrangements of meats and cheeses on the table and although she was still hungry, she couldn’t possibly help herself to more just yet. It would be unseemly. Hayter smiled again at her and she shivered.
“Are you cold, my dear?” Hayter asked.
“No, sir. I mean, no, Uncle,” she corrected at his look. She finally gave into her urge and raised a hand and covered her neck. The neckline was perfectly demure, but she felt terribly exposed in the borrowed gown.
“Please don’t stop eating on our accounts. We don’t hold to much formality around the manor.”
“Only if you’re still hungry, of course,” Caleb interjected. His voice was softer than Hayter’s, more modest, but still firm.
Hayter smiled, his teeth bright white. “I merely wished to let dear Nora know that we would not think her… savage or untamed should she wish to eat more.”
“Do you generally shorten your name to ‘Nora?’” Caleb asked, turning to look at her, piercing her with his pale eyes.
He was like a large bird of prey, watching her with his unyielding jaw and unblinking gaze, but no malice. Elinore darted her eyes over to Hayter who, on the surface, looked amused by the whole exchange, but underneath, something else lurked in his expression. She was afraid to answer either way. She didn’t wish to insult either of them. The truth was, she never went by any shortened form of her name, save for when Charlotte called her Ellie. She had a fond nickname for Charlotte in return, Lottie. It was something only between the two of them, shared since childhood. But it would be horribly rude to comment on her uncle shortening her name. However, to lie would be an even greater rudeness.
“Not generally, no,” she managed finally.
“My apologies, Elinore,” Hayter said smoothly, using her full name once again. “I admit, I’m quite fond of pet names, rather appreciating them for their informality. Indeed, I called your Aunt Victoria, ‘Tori,' from the moment we met. You quite take after her, you know.”
Elinore took another drink of tea, finding it cooling quickly and wondered if the frigid feeling between the two men had something to do with it. She longed for something to break the tension between the two of them. Eyeing the plate of meats and cheeses, she cleared her throat. “It is a horrible loss that I never had the chance to make her acquaintance. My mother commented on our similarities.”
“Yes,” replied Hayter. “Quite similar.”
Silence fell across the table and Elinore wanted to fidget in her seat, but also felt as though she needed to stay as still as possible, not wanting to draw attention. She finally broke, saying, “I believe I will have some of the cheddar after all.”
Eating passed some small measure of time in which Elinore needn’t worry she was expected to make conversation. She was surprised by how hungry she still was after the soup and vowed to only have a few small bites, but Hayter placed a large quantity of items on her plate and she found herself finishing them all. Neither gentleman seemed horrified by the amount she’d eaten and she certainly wasn’t going to mention it.
“Perhaps you would like a tour of Ravenwood,” Hayter said after she was done eating. The thought of spending more time with her uncle had Elinore pausing before she answered.
“You are meeting with Mr. Nethers this afternoon, regarding his concerns over security,” Caleb said, his voice quiet and low. Elinore nearly sagged with relief.
A grimace passed over Hayter’s face. “I could reschedule.”
“This is his last day in our county before he’s off to the northern area,” Caleb countered.
Hayter set his cup down with a loud clatter. “It would have been a pleasure to show you around the estate, dear Elinore, but I’m afraid my nephew is correct. I must attend this meeting.”
Though she wanted to exhale in relief, Elinore managed to school her features into a modicum of disappointment. “Of course, I understand. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“And your plans for the day, dear nephew?” Hayter asked. Elinore found her eyes drawn again to Hayter’s teeth, flashing as he spoke.
“I’m heading out into the forest with some of the men. We’ll be… hunting for the wolf that bit Miss Reed last night.”
Elinore’
s fingers trailed over the bandages. She could feel the heat of the wounds rising up through the cotton. “Mrs. Davenport says that hydrophobia is not a concern out here on the estate. Is that true?”
The men exchanged a look and Elinore felt her stomach roll over with dread. Perhaps Mrs. Davenport had been mistaken.
Hayter reached over and patted Elinore’s knee, causing her to startle and stiffen her spine. It was most inappropriate for him to touch her in such a way. They were family, but they’d only just met. She leaned back slightly in her chair.
“Not to worry my dear, Mrs. Davenport’s poultice should take care of all your worries.”
Elinore’s eyes darted over to Caleb who watched carefully. She felt not at all assured. She drank the last dregs of her tea, grimacing at the tepid taste.
“Of course.” She swallowed thickly. “Mrs. Davenport indicated there was a library. I was wondering if it would be possible for me to avail myself of it?” she asked, hoping that it was well-stocked with books that would take her mind off her troubles.
Hayter’s eyes lit up at her question. “Why, yes. I’m afraid many of the books are quite advanced, but I’m sure you can find some romantic poetry or rudimentary texts on fabric or sewing - just the sort of thing that young ladies are interested in.”
Elinore’s face felt brittle and tight, even as she tried to make her smile congenial. “Just so, Uncle. You’ve guessed my interests well.”
“I’m quite familiar with young ladies and their interests.”
Caleb stood abruptly and spoke. “I can take you to the library now, if you like.”
“Oh, yes. If it’s not any trouble.” Elinore blinked a few times in surprise and then carefully stood up.
Ravenwood Page 6
