Page 9 of Lady Elinor’s Elf

“So you find my library acceptable, I must assume? You’re very quiet…”

Caleb’s words died away as he saw what Elinor had in her hands. He swallowed and remained silent, curious as to her reaction.

She looked up at him and cleared her throat. “I must confess, Caleb, that I did not even imagine you to be a follower of…of…Lady Celata.” She raised her chin as she spoke the name of the current most notorious author in England. Almost as if she expected to be scolded for letting it pass her lips.

He took a breath. “I have always believed that libraries should offer a variety of books for a variety of tastes. How dull it would be were we to restrict ourselves to books which meet the approval of those we do not know.”

She blinked. “Hmm.”

“For example,” he continued, hoping she couldn’t see his heart beating so very fast beneath his waistcoat, “there are many who find all novels completely unacceptable. But where would we be without the pleasure of losing ourselves in Waverley? Or finding that one book by an unnamed writer that brings us laughter and delight as we read the adventures of people we could swear we’ve met? ”

Diverted, Elinor chuckled and nodded. “You’re speaking of A Lady , I must assume. And yes, I very much enjoyed Sense and Sensibility . I’ve read it at least twice.”

He gently took the volume from her hand and restored it to its place with the others. “Then you will certainly understand my desire to make my library, in which—I might add—I spend a considerable amount of my time when I’m here at the Abbey, as complete as possible.”

She thought about that for a moment. “I cannot disagree with that sentiment. But,” she glanced up at the four volumes, “these novels. They are supposed to be quite…quite…”

Her cheeks coloured slightly, and she couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“What, Elinor?”

“Er…quite shocking in nature.”

“I suppose that depends on who is doing the judging.”

“Lady Fawley, actually,” said Elinor. “And at great length, I might add. In fact,” warming to her tale, she continued…

“So great was her disdain and apparent disgust, that I’ll wager at least half the people listening decided to rush out and buy a volume for themselves to see what all the fuss was about. ”

It was no good. Caleb couldn’t hold it back and roared with laughter, startling both Elinor and Carrádog, the latter having settled himself beside Caleb’s armchair.

“Oh, Elinor. You enchant me.”

“Um,” she blinked, “do I thank you for that?”

“You need do nothing but stand there and look adorable.”

“Hmph.”

As he’d anticipated, she gave him one of her best don’t-be-silly looks and continued along the shelves. Caleb thanked his lucky stars that those were the only copies of Lady Celata’s work in his library and followed her as she strolled to the very back of the room.

“This part is old, isn’t it?” She paused at the end of one set of shelves, her eyes gazing at the far wall and fireplace, their faded and aged wood revealing some of their history.

“It is. I think it was here when it came into the Howell family, and I can’t even guess how many generations ago that was.”

Elinor turned to him. “You must know something of the legends that surround Tylwyth Teg Abbey, though?”

“Some. Not much, I have to admit. After all, legends are the stuff of novels, and I’m sure Lady Fawley would disapprove of those as well.”

“Surely you must have heard of the Ellyllon?”

“Er…who? Or is that a ‘what’?”

“Oh dear.” Elinor shook her head. “Come. Sit down. Let me attempt to educate you.”

She chose the couch that sat beneath a large set of windows featuring beautiful stained-glass trim along their tops, through which the late afternoon sunlight was softly filtered.

It was a warm corner, and their obvious intent to rest there for a while brought Carrádog to join them.

He settled in front of them with a groaning huff.

“Now,” she said, settling herself comfortably. “Tylwyth Teg, which I’m surprised to find you don’t know—being possessed of such a large library—is the name given by the Welsh to a race of magical people.”

“Like fairies or…um…elves?”

Elinor took a breath. “Yes, like that.”

“So Tylwyth Teg isn’t the name of their home, then…”

“Not really, no. It’s the name of their people, and they have a reputation for being not only most beautiful but also quite mischievous.”

“In what way?” Caleb frowned.

“Oh, all kinds of ways, I think.” She pursed her lips as she thought.

“I have heard they are extraordinarily kind to those they favour. Some stories tell of riches bestowed where good deeds have been done.” She paused.

“I rather like that idea. At last someone rewards good behaviour, rather than searching out bad behaviour and doing nasty things to it.”

“You have a point, Elinor,” agreed Caleb, entranced by the expressions on her face and the light in her eyes as she told the story. “Please go on?”

“Well, they have a bit of a reputation for shape-shifting, and they are creatures of nature, so you might find them in mountains, or forests, or around lakes, and so on.”

“Are they dangerous?”

She paused. “I have heard tales of their stealing children and leaving changelings in their place,” she shook her head, “but I tend to doubt those tales. Although there are many who still leave an iron poker near their children’s cradle.”

“Why? To hit ’em with?”

Elinor completely failed to hide her laughter. “Nooo. The legend says that Ellyllon are vulnerable to iron, and thus avoid it whenever they can.”

“Ah. That makes more sense.”

“Anyway, Tylwyth Teg has long been looked upon as a place where the Ellyllon once held court. In fact, there are some who believe they remain here still.”

“I haven’t seen any signs of strange fairy guests, Elinor. I hate to disappoint you, but I think I can safely say there aren’t any odd entities in residence at the moment.” He grinned and shook his head. “If there had been, Mrs Deryn would have swept them out most energetically.”

“You may be right,” she admitted reluctantly.

“But nevertheless, the history of this house is inextricably linked with the Ellyllon. It might have had the word Abbey added to it, but I believe that was done several hundred years ago by an owner who wanted to sell it. He’d found a Bishop willing to pay his price, and rather cleverly told the buyer that it had been an Abbey once upon a time. ”

“Some people will do anything for a sale,” remarked Caleb wryly. “But it’s a wonderful story. Thank you for telling me.”

Elinor rose. “I enjoyed the telling, and the tea. The legends surrounding this place and the Ellyllon have always held a special appeal for me. But now I must be going, lest Benson send out a search party for me.”

Carrádog strolled over to them, and received a pet from Elinor, then wandered amongst the shelves. Caleb had risen and was about to usher her out, when the dog gave an odd woof.

They looked at each other.

“Perhaps he needs to…um…go out?” Elinor looked at Caleb.

“I don’t know. Where is he?”

“Down by the last row of shelves, I think?”

They walked together to the very end of the room, and there was Carrádog, standing quite still, his body tense, his nose pointing to the end of the row.

“What is it, my friend?” Caleb gently touched his shoulder.

“Wuff,” the dog snuffled quietly.

“He doesn’t seem afraid or angry,” said Elinor. “Perhaps there’s something at the end of this row he sees…” she glanced at Caleb. “Will you stay with him while I take a quick look?”

“All right,” he nodded. “But for Heaven’s sake don’t scream if it’s a mouse. I doubt my heart could take it.”

She snorted, shot him a sceptical glance and strolled away.

The shadows were growing between the shelves, and the afternoon light barely made it to the end, but when she got there…nothing. Nothing at all.

Sighing, she was about to let Caleb know it had been a fool’s errand when something caught her eye.

A very large, and obviously ancient, tome standing directly next to her on the very last shelf, was beginning to glow.

“What the…”

Elinor felt the hairs rise at the back of her neck as she obeyed some sort of impulse and reached for it.

“ Pick me up, Elinor .” The whisper was loud and clear, as was Carrádog’s soft bark as he quietly moved up beside her.

Almost without realising it, she reached out her hand and touched it. Warm, enticing, it seemed to urge her to take it from the shelf, now , take me…open me…read me…

Helpless to withstand the strange entreaties, her fingers curled around the spine and edges of the old book, and she slid it from the shelf into her arms.

“Caleb,” she whispered, “Caleb… I cannot… ”

Carrádog’s nose touched her hand.

And her world went black.

*~~*~~*

“Now then, Miss Elinor, are you sure you’re feeling better this morning?”

“Yes, Jane dear. Really. I am quite sure. I’ve been quite sure since I arrived home two days ago.”

“Well now, having a fainting spell is not like you, and I know I don’t have to tell you that,” replied Jane, a worried frown still creasing her eyebrows.

“It wasn’t really a fainting spell,” Elinor protested again. “I was merely dizzy for a few moments and tripped over Sir Caleb’s dog.”

“Hmph.” Jane shook her head. “A strange story, to be sure.”

“And one I shall continue to repeat until you believe me, dear Jane. I am absolutely well, hale, and hearty. Look.” She took a few light steps into the centre of the room and twirled gracefully with her hands outstretched.

“Silliness,” said Jane, but her features eased into a smile. “Forgive my worrying…”

Elinor hurried to her side and hugged her. Hard. “Darling Jane. What would I do without you to worry over me?”

“I don’t know, and that’s for sure. Although it seems you’ve someone else worrying about you now, as well.”

“Oh?”

“That Sir Caleb. I haven’t mentioned it, but he’s been sending messages each of the last three days, along with flowers, books…I swear he’s going to send you a pet goat or something soon.”

Elinor laughed. “Truthfully, I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“It was a gracious gesture,” approved Jane. “He may be a bit on the reclusive side, but it seems his heart is in the right place.”

“I’m sure he’d be thrilled and honoured to know of your approval.”

“Yes, well.” Jane sighed. “Now what’s going on then? If you’re so hale and hearty now, you can sit yourself right down there in that chair and tell me what happened.” She put her hands on her hips. “And none of this nonsense about tripping over your gown.”

Elinor looked out of the window, away from the other woman. “What makes you think anything happened?” she asked innocently.

“Because in all my years here, and all those spent watching you grow up, you’ve never had a dizzy or fainting spell in your life. And in all those years, you’ve never had quite that look in your eyes.”

Frowning, Elinor glanced in the mirror. “What look?”

Jane waved her hands in the air. “The sort of look that makes me wonder…I can’t quite put my finger on it, but…well, it’s a different look than I’ve ever seen before.”

Elinor continued to stare at her reflection.

“I can’t see anything different,” she sighed.

“I’m still me. Look.” She turned to Jane.

“Same eyes, still only one nose and mouth,” turning back to the mirror, she tapped herself on said nose.

“Still the same dull face. I wish…” she tapped her lips, “oh nevermind.”

“Excuse me, Miss Elinor,” Benson peered around the door. “Sir Howell is here and is asking if you are well enough to allow him a short visit?” The butler cleared his throat. “He’s brought a…a…dog with him, Miss.”

“Oh,” Elinor laughed, and all but clapped her hands. “Oh yes, Benson. I would love to see them both. Perhaps it might be possible to offer them a cup of tea?” She laughed. “Not the dog, of course.”

Benson glanced at Jane, and they exchanged a look that Elinor noticed immediately but decided to ignore.

“I’ll see to the tea, then, Miss Elinor.” She looked worried. “You really should have a chaperone, you know…”

“Oh, bosh, Jane. This is the country. I don’t have to worry about being denied a voucher to Almack’s simply because a neighbour came to visit with his dog.”

And with those words, said dog rushed into the room and made his joy at seeing Elinor quite evident. However, this time she was ready for him, and kept her footing, catching him before he made that great leap, and rubbing his ears until he was panting with joy.

“Carrádog,” she cried, laughing at his antics. “You are full of yourself as usual, I see?”

He promptly sat on his haunches and offered her a paw.

She was charmed, accepted it, and they solemnly shook, while Jane looked on in surprise.

“It didn’t take long for him to learn that,” said a voice from the doorway.

Elinor turned, a smile on her face, to see Caleb leaning against the jamb, holding an enormous bunch of roses. “Sir Caleb. I am most happy to welcome you and your well-mannered companion to Molliney Park.”

“I had to come and see for myself that you were fully recovered,” he answered smoothly. “Although this charming lady has reassured me on my recent visits that you were better.” He turned to Jane. “These are for you, with my thanks.”

“Oh, but Sir …” she stuttered, completely taken aback. “Shouldn’t they be for…”

“No, absolutely not. She has unlimited gardens and lots of rose bushes. These are for you and you alone.”

“Well, I…I really don’t know what to say.” Stunned, she held the huge bunch of roses as if they were made of glass.

“Say thank you to Sir Caleb, Jane. And then go put them in a vase somewhere.” Elinor tried not to laugh.

“Yes, Miss Elinor. All right. I will.” She turned to Caleb. “And thank you, sir. Ever so thoughtful of you, this is.”

“My pleasure, Miss Jane.” He held the door open as she hurried through, leaving a few petals and a strong scent of roses behind her.”

For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was Carrádog panting.

“Hallo, Caleb.”

“Hallo, Elinor.”

“We should probably talk…”

“Yes, I think we should.”

“Wuff”, Carrádog agreed.