Page 5 of Lady Elinor’s Elf

To say it rained for an extended period would be an understatement, and Elinor was becoming ever more frustrated as she woke for the seventh day in a row to see yet another grey and overcast sky, along with raindrops already sliding down the glass of her window.

She said as much to Jane as the stout woman came into her bedroom bearing tea.

“It has to stop soon, doesn’t it?” She pulled herself up in bed and accepted the tray onto her lap.

“It’ll stop when it stops, Miss Elinor, and you know that. No point in asking me a dozen times a day, because I’ll always say the same thing.”

“Yes, but…”

“No buts, if you please.” She crossed the room to Elinor’s large wardrobe and opened the door. “Now what shall you wear today? The pink is nice…” Diving into the depths, Jane reappeared with a pretty pink gown, its high neck ruffled with delicate white lace.

Elinor sighed. “Dear Jane. That gown was attractive when I was twelve. I’m an adult now.”

“And a stubborn one too, I’ll add.” Jane put the pink gown away, and pulled out a green one. “Better?”

“No. Green makes me look sallow and tired. At least according to Lady Esme Fairchild, and she is the arbiter of all things fashionable, you know.”

“Really?”

“Well, no, but she thinks she is.”

“So perhaps a yes on the green?”

Elinor wrinkled her nose. “It’s more of a blue day, Jane. Blue always feels calm and peaceful.”

The older woman chuckled, a rich sound emanating from the depths of the wardrobe. “I can’t say I’d refer to you as either calm or peaceful, Miss Elinor. But you look very nice in blue, with all that blonde hair.”

Since Jane had known her for her entire life, Elinor smiled at the compliment. “Thank you. And your tea is, as always, beyond compare. I had nothing so delicious in town, you know.”

Jane preened. “It’s the milk, I always say. Start with a good tea and add a splash of fresh milk. There's nothing like it.”

Elinor nodded and put the cup back on the tray. “I shall make a note of that.” She slid out of bed. “Now I suppose I have to decide what to do with myself today.” She walked to the window. “It does look as if the rain is easing a little…”

“I hope so, Miss Elinor, I really do.” Jane sounded worried. “This weather’s not good for the mill downstream.”

“Really? Why?”

“Recently, we had bad rains like this. And the field flooded much more than usual. Something to do with the course of the river changing and overflowing its banks, or something.” She shook her head. “And when that happened, the mill got flooded too. Had to stop for a few days to clean up the mess.”

“Oh dear. That’s not good.”

Elinor knew well that the mill was a valuable part of the Molliney estate, and furnished flour for a large number of customers.

The profits from the sale of the flour went into the coffers of the Mollineys and then were put into an account used to keep the mill working.

In addition, it supported the little village that had grown up in that area, housing many of the farmers and field workers who grew the wheat that the mill depended on.

Elinor’s Papa had explained it to her some years ago, when—to his surprise—she began asking intelligent questions about how her home functioned.

“I’m pleased with your interest, my dear,” he’d said. “It is good to see a young woman eager to learn about household management. Augurs well for your future husband.”

“I’d like to run my own house, Papa,” she’d answered, only to see him chuckle and pinch her cheek.

“And I’m sure you could, my sweet. But that’s what husbands are for.”

“Oh.” She’d thought about that. “I’d rather have a dog.”

She could still hear his laughter.

Dragging her thoughts back to the present, Elinor accepted the blue gown that Jane had finally selected, and finished her tea.

“Perhaps it will dry out enough for me to go outside,” she said hopefully. “I need some fresh air, and I don’t care if it’s damp.” She blinked. “Oh, are my old boots still in there somewhere, Jane?”

“Let me see…” The maid vanished, only to reappear in moments bearing a pair of obviously well-worn boots.

“Splendid. I think they’ll still fit, and they are certainly up for a walk over wet grass.”

Jane sighed. “Best I get out your oilskin coat, then, Miss Elinor. What you’ll do for a hat? Well, that’s beyond me.” She tutted as she laid out the rest of the garments Elinor would need. “Don’t see why you can’t stay indoors like a proper lady. Your Mama wouldn’t be out tramping through the wet.”

“I know. But I’m not Mama, I’m afraid. I never will be, Jane, so give up that hope.”

“You’re your own self, Miss Elinor. That’s more than good enough for all of us.

” She gave her mistress a friendly hug with all the familiarity of a woman who had bathed her as a baby.

“Now you come down whenever you’re ready, and have a bite of breakfast before even thinking of going outside, all right? ”

“Yes, Ma’am,” grinned Elinor, curtseying.

“Cheeky,” scolded Jane with a chuckle.

*~~*~~*

While Elinor was rising and enjoying breakfast at Molliney Park, a couple of miles away her neighbour was sharing some of her frustrations at the miserable weather.

“I should check on the fields down by the stream,” Caleb muttered, slathering butter on toast. “This rain has to go somewhere, and I’d rather it not turn my best wheat field into a wheat lake.”

“Most wise, sir.” Deryn nodded. “It has a habit of meandering where it wills, of course. That is nature’s way. But thus far, the way the ground rises has kept most of the water within bounds.”

“Hmm.” He munched appreciatively. “Well, it bears watching, since if we run out of wheat, then the mill won’t be able to grind flour, and I shall be denied your wife’s truly magnificent fresh bread.”

“That certainly would never do, sir.”

“Deryn, I believe I observe a lump…” he leant forward, his eyes narrowed. “Yes, there is definitely a lump…which I surmise must be your tongue in your cheek.”

The man bit his lip against a laugh. “I shall convey your charming compliment to Mrs Deryn, sir. I know she will be delighted.”

“Right then.” Caleb polished off the last of his toast and pushed the plate aside. “I’d better dress for the state of the earth. Old breeches, and an oilskin, with one of my old thick shirts beneath. That should suffice.”

“Perhaps something in the way of a hat, sir?”

He shook his head. “It will only serve to keep water around my head. I’m better without one, I think.” He glanced at the window. “And if I’m aright, it looks as if the rain might be letting up a little.”

“If you say so, sir.”

“There you go again, Deryn, lad. Get that tongue out of your cheek and ask your charming wife if she could spare a moment to make me a little packet of food to take with me? I don’t know how long I’ll be out, but in case I should feel faint from hunger…”

Deryn didn’t even bother to reply. His eyebrow spoke for him.

“Thank you.” Caleb grinned.

He was still grinning when he emerged from the back door of the Abbey, looking far more like a farmer than the Lord of the Manor.

But this was, for him, an adventure into reality. A chance to actually be a working man, to experience the good and the bad of a life spent tending to the land.

Armed with a carefully wrapped package of bread and cheese, Caleb set off at a brisk pace, his boots squishing through the sodden ground.

It had, by some miracle, actually stopped raining for the time being, but the clouds hung low, and the drips from the trees were every bit as soaking as a shower.

He was damp within minutes, and making his way through the woods soaked his hair.

But the oilskin coat proved its worth, and kept his shoulders and a good portion of his breeches dry.

For a little while he imagined himself as an explorer, alone in a vast green and wet jungle.

There would be strange creatures here, he thought, something more dangerous than a lion, larger than an elephant, roaring, with huge sharp tusks that would frighten the life out of any unwary traveller…

“ Owww .”

“Ooof…” The exclamation was pushed out of his lungs as he collided head-on with another oilskin-wrapped figure.

But this one wasn’t as tall as he was, and also more slender.

Blonde hair peeped out from beneath an obviously well-worn worker’s hat, and wet blue skirts hid most of the thick boots now moving backwards rapidly in an attempt to attain balance.

Caleb didn’t think twice. He darted forward and caught her before she staggered into what was undoubtedly a wet swamp.

Her screech nearly deafened him, but he managed to keep them both upright while he lurched backward onto slightly more solid ground.

Finding their feet, they drew apart, and he looked into her face to find her blue eyes staring at him. And not, he judged, in a way that might preface her thanking him for saving them both from a mud bath.

“You idiot . Don’t you know any better than to stride around partially flooded fields? I don’t know where your master is, or where you work, but you certainly need some instruction on how to handle situations like this.” She waved a white hand at the seriously waterlogged ground that lay ahead.

“I…”

“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t give you away, but in the future, for Heaven’s sake, watch where you’re walking.

A soaking wet pair of breeches is an annoyance.

Finding yourself stuck in thick mud with the water rising is life-threatening.

” She huffed out a breath. “Thankfully, I caught you just in time.”

Caleb had had enough. “No. I caught you , silly wench. When it comes to striding over flooded fields, doing so in a damn dress is about the height of stupidity, so don’t you dare lecture me.”

Her chin went up. “I am not a silly wench. You are clearly new around here. I am Lady Elinor Molliney, and you’re trespassing on Molliney Park grounds.”

If she expected an elegant bow and apology, thought Caleb, she was in for a shock.

“Personally, I don’t care if you’re the Queen of Sheba, young woman.

And I doubt the veracity of your allegation, since I was told that Lady Elinor was a lady of rare grace and great common sense.

Neither of which, I should add, you have displayed for one second since you ran into me.

” He glared at her. “And you’re obviously some sort of hermit, or you would know that I am Sir Caleb Howell, the owner of Tylwyth Teg Abbey.

And that, Lady Elinor, makes you a trespasser. ”

She frowned. “No, it doesn’t.”

He frowned back. “Yes, it does.”

But before they could continue the argument, a howl made them both turn their heads toward a deeper pool of water. Something was thrashing in there, howling desperately as it splashed, trying to find its footing.

“Oh God, it’s a dog,” Elinor turned away from Caleb and ran.

“Wait,” Caleb ran after her, the two of them splashing up their own private rainstorm as they raced to the rescue.

It was indeed a dog, and its leg seemed to be caught on something beneath the rising waters.

“Can you hold his head? I don’t know as much about dogs as I’d like.” Elinor glanced at Caleb. “I’d rather get wet than bitten. I will reach under the surface and see if I can free him…”

“Yes, I think so… all right…”

The poor creature was nearly frantic, but as Caleb spoke soothingly to it, its struggles eased, and Elinor plunged her hands into the water, only to stand up a few moments later with a thick and heavy branch in her hand.

The dog—freed at last—yipped, which Caleb could have sworn was a joyous laugh in canine form. It then looked up at him, eyes full of worship.

“Don’t thank me, thank her.” He nodded at Elinor.

“It was this thing” She tossed it away. “I suppose the waters swept it up and jammed on the rocks. Somehow his paw ended up caught beneath it. I don’t believe he’s hurt, but it must have been quite frightening for the poor thing.”

The dog watched her quietly, then moved closer to Caleb.

“Well,” she snorted. “There’s thanks for you.”

Caleb couldn’t help it. He laughed aloud, making both Elinor and the dog stare at him in surprise. “I’m sorry. But this is certainly a day full of surprises.”

“I will agree with you about that.” She sighed and looked down at her soaked garments. “It’s also a very wet one, so I suggest our best course is to retreat before these waters get any higher.”

Caleb nodded. “Indeed yes. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Elinor.” He bowed gracefully, ignoring the clammy wetness of his breeches.

“Thank you, Sir Caleb.” Elinor looked around, then looked back at him. “ I refuse to curtsey while standing in a pond. So pretend I did.” She shrugged. “Take your dog and go home. And leave the hard work to those who are trained for it.”

Blinking, Caleb sucked in a breath of air, but before he could find his voice to argue with her, she’d gone, splashing carelessly across the field and into the trees.

He looked down to see the dog sitting beside him, also watching her.

“Hmm.”

The dog’s head turned as he looked up at the sound.

“She’s gone. So now what do I do with you?” He retraced his steps, making his way carefully to the drier edge of the field and the path back to the Abbey.

His new friend followed, tail up now, his coat soaked, but his ears perky as he trotted beside his saviour.

“Good God,” sighed Caleb. “I believe I now have a dog.”

The answering woof confirmed that assumption, and the dog gave him what could only be described as a huge grin.