xxx. In which Charlotte gains a new pet #2
The greenery, sitting nearby in a tight ball, loosened slightly. Tendrils trailed toward Elspeth, turning between her and
the stove.
“Don’t eat me or nothin’,” Elspeth said to it.
Charlotte’s lips twitched. Despite herself, she was, in fact, fond of Elspeth.
“I’m not sure what to make of you, I suppose. That’s all.”
Elspeth paused in the middle of sticking a log in the stove. “Gran and Granddad, neither. Must’ve been fifteen the first time
they caught me with a girl.”
That hadn’t been what Charlotte meant, but she didn’t respond.
“They’ve come around pretty well in the last twenty years,” Elspeth continued, returning to the stove. “But times are it happens
Granddad tells me about some nice man he’s met who’d provide for me good if I ever wanted to settle down, or Gran asks if
she can use me to pin up a dress she’s taking in or letting out for someone, and once I’m all pinned in she makes a big deal
about how beautiful I am.”
Charlotte resisted the urge to speak, because what had threatened to come out, foolishly, was, You are beautiful.
“They’re all right, most times, but then I got all them cousins hanging around, and God Almighty, the way they bang on about
me being an old maid, or how I could find a nice widower if I wanted one, or how I’m giving menfolk dirty thoughts on account
of my trousers showing off the shape of my legs—”
Charlotte flushed. She hadn’t noticed that herself, when they’d met. Now that it had been said, however—as Elspeth bent forward
to light the stove—
Less her legs and more her buttocks, which certainly were shapely.
Of all the ridiculous things to think.
“Maggie’s about the only one who’s ever known what to make of me.” The fire flickered to life. The tangle of greenery relaxed,
its tendrils turning toward the warmth. Elspeth shut the door, adjusted the damper, and sat on the floor. “Or she don’t care
if she hasn’t. She was twelve when she made me my first pair of trousers. Gran wouldn’t then, and Granddad wouldn’t give me
any of his old ones. It’s mostly his, what I wear now. Wore ’em down eventually. But that was my first pair, the pair Maggie
made.”
“She’s older?”
Elspeth shook her head. She wrapped her arms around her knees.
“That’s the thing. She’s always taken care of me, Maggie has, never mind she’s the younger.
Think I got it into my head over the years she don’t need taking care of, but I worried about her going to Seacliff with Bess—tried to talk her out of it, if you can believe it.
Must’ve been the first time in my life me and Gran and Granddad were all right alongside each other agreeing on something.
Oh, she was mad. She’s always spent plenty time in the wood, ever since we was girls.
Said she’d be fine if anyone would, and why didn’t we trust her, and she was going with Bess anyhow, not by her lonesome.
Didn’t much like it when I said she’d be coming home alone, the way they planned it. ”
Elspeth rested her chin on her knees.
“Think that made her maddest of all. She thought for sure I’d be on her side when she told Gran and Granddad she was going,
and I wasn’t. I was working when she left with Bess, but I figured when she come back I’d make it up to her. Only she didn’t
come back. And now we’re here and she ain’t, and the Lord of the Wood ain’t, neither.”
She let out a long breath. “I don’t know what to do.”
Charlotte bit her lip. She didn’t know what to do, either, certainly not about finding either Arthur or Maggie, or the Lord
of the Wood, for that matter. She knew she ought to comfort Elspeth, but she didn’t know how to go about it. Comforting anyone
older than her children always seemed impossible. In medical scenarios, she was more likely to provide a sense of calm and
surety than comfort, unless there was good news—but then it wasn’t her, was it, but the news itself that was comforting.
Well, if she could only offer a sense of calm and surety, that was what she’d do.
“We wait,” she said firmly. “You said it looks like someone was here within the last couple of days. It must be the Lord of
the Wood who lives here—this is the only place we’ve been where the trees aren’t infected. Perhaps that—whatever it is—” with
a nod at the tangle of greenery “—is his pet.”
She longed to sit beside Elspeth, but if she sat on the floor she wouldn’t be able to get up.
“I think we’re safe here. We can catch our breath, rest for a couple of days. The Lord of the Wood has to come back sometime.
We’ll give it a day or two. If he’s not back by then, we’ll consider our options.”
Elspeth ran a hand through her hair. Strands came loose from her braid, falling messily around her face. “Guess a rest’d not be so bad.”
“Of course not. It’ll give us time to recover from . . . from whatever happened back there,” Charlotte said, unwilling to
mention the trees, “and I can keep an eye on your symptoms, and the animals can have a rest, too.”
Swearing, Elspeth rocketed to her feet and stalked out, probably to take care of the horse and mule. They’d left the creatures
tethered to the gig outside.
The room warmed with the fire flickering in the stove. Charlotte sank deeper into her armchair, grateful for a break from
the gig and its jolts, the forest and its dangers. The plant creature crept into her lap and sprawled across it like a cat,
leaving blackened vines and fronds on the floor behind it. New anatomy grew from it, green and fresh.
Charlotte stroked a tendril, her mind drifting back to her brother’s tools. Her head dropped into her hands. It was better
than what Elspeth had; Charlotte had some proof Arthur had been here, alive and safe.
Her eyes stung anyway. She couldn’t stop thinking how close she might have come to finding him here. How close he might have
been to coming home when she left.
Elspeth stumbled back inside in a whirl of cold.
“Snowing like anything,” she grunted, kicking her boots off. Her teeth chattered. Finding a lone fur hanging on a hook by
the door, she tugged it on over her cloak. “Couldn’t find a shed or anywhere to put the animals, but around the side of the
house was more sheltered, so I guess that’ll have to do.”