“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 bestdon’t-be-sillylooks 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 gooddeeds 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 hisprice, and rather cleverly told the buyer that it had been an Abbey once upon a time.”
