Taming Red Riding Hood

by Lidiya Foxglove

  I climbed the ladder with my valise and dumped it next to the bed, which was spread with a feather-stuffed quilt. There was a small table roughly made of branches and a crosscut piece of tree trunk, all with the bark still on them, topped with a simple glass vase holding some holly. Dried herbs hung from the rafters. A desk sat by the single small window. The panes were frosted with ice patterns. A rag rug covered the floor.

  It was much more comfortable to me than the fine house I had left, although I could see it getting lonely.

  Downstairs, she had set the table with an embroidered tablecloth, napkins and proper silverware and china cups, and set out a plate of golden-brown scones.

  “I’m not much of a cook, I’m afraid,” she said. “I had servants in my married days.”

  “You don’t have to go to any of this bother for me,” I said. I just ate a freshly caught rabbit…

  “I try to always go to some trouble,” she said. “Even for myself alone. I try to respect myself as my own guest, sitting down to a meal. Eccentric as it may sound, it’s how I was raised. I can’t bear the thought of forgetting my manners entirely.” She put out a dish with sugars and then the tea. I was rather charmed by the whole thing. “I don’t have milk,” she added, apologetically. “I’ll fetch some from the Donnell farm tomorrow.”

  “You don’t have to; I don’t mind.”

  “So, my dear,” she said, sitting down. “Douglas’s wolfkin girl, at long last. You don’t look as wild as I expected.”

  “They’ve tried their best to make a lady out of me.”

  “How is that going? For you, I mean? On the outside, I can see they’ve done a good job.”

  “Oh, well…” I was conscious of having very disheveled hair. “It’s all in the clothes. I’m—well—I might be a disappointment.”

  “A disappointment? I hardly think so! Douglas was so smitten with your mother, you would hardly believe. He and Katherine are very congenial, and certainly a much better match for having a life together. Wolves and humans make for terrible, terrible arrangements. But he was never mad about Katherine. Your mother gave him something a human girl would not have been able to give.”

  “What?” I was lapping up this gossip even more than the delicious tea.

  “The chance to shed his rigid upbringing. I’m sure he told you how strict and cruel his grandfather was.”

  “Oh aye, it was practically the first thing he said.”

  “What are these on your wrists?” She suddenly noticed the silver cuffs. As I had my elbows on the table and the warm teacup between both hands, my sleeves had crept downward.

  I looked down. “I turned into a wolf…at a ball. It was happening in the mornings, too. So these prevent that from happening.”

  “Ahh…you asked for them, or your father insisted?”

  “They put them on for my own good after I fainted at the ball.” I don’t know why I was making excuses for it. I wanted the cuffs off, but I still couldn’t believe I had lost control in front of all those people.

  Grandmother tsked. “I guess it is for the best. We don’t need any wolvenfolk sniffing around here. But I think I’ll talk to Douglas about it. It’s very easy to slip into controlling everything when you’re the head of an estate.”

  “Thank you…” I liked her more by the moment and it was making me feel like opening up. “They’ve been very kind to me, by and large. I don’t want to complain. I’m grateful. I just…can’t help being what I am sometimes. The second I got there, it was corsets and hair ribbons and lessons in reading and writing and numbers… I’ll never be good at any of that. There’s so much to learn, and—I can’t learn it. It’s miserable to just sit there. I can’t even take a walk without a chaperone, and when I tried, I got attacked by some bloody dock worker or something…”

  “What kind of life do you want?” Grandmother asked. “Would you rather live in a wolf clan?”

  “My clan is dead.”

  “I have some acquaintance with the clan in these woods. If it was what you really wanted, you might be able to join them. There are quite a few handsome young men in that clan, I daresay! But they range mostly westward. You wouldn’t see your family here very often at all.”

  I frowned. No one had ever offered to let me back into a wolf clan before. The fact was, they weren’t my clan. My father was my flesh and blood. John, Francis and Thomas were my brothers.

  “I—I don’t know. I would rather find a way to manage in town.”

  “Then, find a way. But town won’t change for you. You’ll either have to change for town, or accept that many people will consider you an eccentric. Why do you think I live out here?”

  “Why do you, exactly?”

  “I needed to escape, like Douglas did. To know what it was to be free. But make no mistake, I’m a strange woman.” She chuckled. “He was willing to go back there and be the man he needed to be, in order to claim the estate. I was never going to get more than a smidgen of inheritance. No expectations on an aging widow, is there? I decided I liked my independence. I’m not sure one choice is better than the other. I miss my old life more often than I’d like to admit, but I still have no regrets.”

  “I see…” I ventured, “The tutor Father hired to teach me my letters is a wolf.”

  “A wolf as a tutor?”

  “He’s a strange wolf.”

  “I’d imagine so!” She looked at me askance and urged another scone on me with a nudge of the plate. “You like this strange wolf, do you?”

  “Yes. I do. Even though he pesters me about learning.”

  “What about Patrick Rafferty?”

  “Oh…you’ve heard about that.”

  “He’s been courting you? Yes. I’ve heard. Patrick comes to visit fairly often. He likes the forest.”

  “I’m not sure about Patrick…”

  “I must say, I think he would be a good match for you. More acceptable for your family, as well, but I think you’d be happy too. Wolves don’t make for good husbands.”

  “So everyone says, but—”

  “You prefer this wolf, eh? Even though you don’t want to learn your letters?”

  “I’m not sure I could be happy with a human, but I think I could be happy with him. He understands what I am. I don’t think I’d mind keeping his house and having his kits… He’s not a man of means, it’s true, but I don’t care about that.”

  “But Fersa, you keep up with those lessons of yours. Learn to write and understand your household finances. Don’t ever just marry a man and have his ‘kits’ when he has an education and you don’t.”

  On one hand, I understood what she was trying to say. But it still made my stubbornness flare. “My mother didn’t have an ‘education’.”

  “She was a wolf, wasn’t she?”

  “And so am I!” I tapped my teaspoon on the table, restless. “I suppose it’s all well and good to be ambitious and learned. But—it’s not what I really care about. I don’t need to write down the names of trees and flowers to know what they look like and taste like or what illnesses they’re good for. My mother knew everything about the forest around her. She was a good huntress. And she was fun and playful. She seemed like the smartest woman I’d ever known, and the happiest too, and she still does. And now I feel like I’m not worth anything until I learn all these things…which I suppose means she was never worth anything.” I swallowed down a lump in my throat.

  “That’s not true,” Grandmother said, her voice gentle but still a little brisk. “But you’re in a different world now.”

  “I know I am. Maybe I wouldn’t mind if there wasn’t so much pressure. I think I’d rather be the wife of a humble man than a rich one like Patrick, truly. I don’t need to go to the fanciest parties in town. I want a husband who understand me, and I want children of my own. I want to teach them the things my mother taught me, and play with them at the edge of the forest…but at night, I want to tuck them into bed and know that no one will drive an arrow through my heart or t
heirs.”

  I started to cry in earnest. It welled up like a flash flood, no real warning. I had mourned my mother slowly and privately over the past several years, all while trying to adjust to life in the work house. I hated mourning her, I really did. I wanted to move on. The best way to honor my memories of her would be to have children of my own, and to love them as fiercely as she loved me. I didn’t really want to shove my father away either. I wanted a family.

  “It’s all right, dear…” Grandmother patted my head. “It’s not a bad thing at all to know what you really want. I just know that, in the human world, men have too much power already. Sometimes you think you know a man, and it turns out you don’t. Don’t give them any more than you must.”

  Later that evening, I opened the drawers of the desk in my bedroom and found paper and pen. I practiced the letters Agnar had taught me. I didn’t always like my grandmother’s advice, but I found her easy to respect, more like my mother than most humans I had met. Maybe the lines between humans and the wolvenfolk weren’t as rigid as we assumed.

  This, of course, came after a long evening of conversation over soup and later on, a mug of beer. I washed the dishes for her, happy to do menial labor instead of using my brain. Whatever she said, I was much better suited to that! Maybe I should have been a housemaid instead of a wealthy man’s daughter.

  In the morning, she loaned me a plain work dress and I helped her finish chopping the branch into pieces, hauling it away from the broken fence. We mended it together. Soon, my hands were dirty, my hair was tied back in a kerchief, and my shiny new boots were caked with slushy muck.

  Grandmother still stopped for a proper lunch with a properly set table and proper china, though. It seemed to be her one rule, that no matter what, a woman should keep a tidy house and table. I didn’t really care, but I found myself admiring her dedication to it.

  The sun set early and we did some baking for yule.

  “I’ll bring some sweets to the Donnells,” she said the next morning. “They don’t have a woman in the house, just little Eliza and she can hardly bake a biscuit.”

  “I could come with you.”

  “No, no,” she said. “You stay here. I have some boring business to attend to over there. Feel free to take a nap or use my sewing basket or anything else you like.”

  “Boring business?”

  “We might trade some chickens,” she said.

  I had a vague sense of suspicion, but I told myself that I should certainly be able to trust my grandmother, and the sense quickly disappeared when several mostly pleasant days of work and conversation passed. I can only say mostly, because I was coming into full heat and everything was tinged with the torture of wanting to mate. I think it was only improved by the fact that I had actually gotten to mate for once. Sometimes I thought I caught Agnar’s scent on the wind. I think he was watching me, and I was always looking for him. One day I took a walk and passed the tree where we had made love. There was a cluster of snowdrop flowers tucked into a crook between the branches.

  Be careful, my dearest…

  And then, I was outside feeding the hens one morning when I saw Patrick riding down the woodland path. With the trees bare, he was visible at a far distance.

  “Good morning, Miss Fersa!” he called as he came closer.

  “Good morning,” I said, straightening up. I was a bit dirty, not that I cared about impressing him.

  Grandmother came out of the house. “Patrick Rafferty, you rascal.” She kissed his cheek. “You got my letter?”

  “Yes, indeed, but I was already thinking about coming out.” He looked at me. “The white wolf has been spotted around these parts.”

  My entire body was tensing up. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t help you. My father’s cuffed me with silver and I can’t shift. My nose is hardly better than a human now, and I’m no hunter without teeth and claws.”

  He whipped something out of his pocket and tossed it to me. “The key to your chains, my lady.”

  Oh no, I thought, as I caught the object that glinted by me. “Father gave this to you? He didn’t want me to hunt!”

  “I might have nicked it while paying a visit,” he said. “But you don’t think it’s fair that he cuffed you, do you? It’s not right. I don’t care what happened at the ball, Fersa—I swear I don’t.”

  I felt panic sweep over me. One bad thing about being wolvenfolk is that I was easily inclined to panic. When you’re an animal, you must be ready to run at the first sign of danger. I didn’t know what to say now, so my feet carried me right back into house, almost without knowing it.

  I clutched the table. Oh no. Oh no. They’ve spotted Agnar because he was out here looking for me. I can’t hunt him. But what do I say?

  Grandmother stepped in to the cabin. “Now, dear, I know what you’re thinking. But I think you should at least give Patrick one chance to impress you. It wouldn’t hurt to hunt with him. Aren’t you itching to run? I can see how restless you are.”

  “I can’t hunt,” I said.

  “Why not? You don’t want the reward?”

  “Not for a fellow wolf…”

  “His own clan wants him dead!”

  I felt like I was going to be sick. I couldn’t hunt Agnar. I wouldn’t even take the risk of agreeing to hunt him just to warn him, because my presence might lure Agnar out and then it would be too late.

  Take your time and think about it a moment. I took a deep breath. I just needed a reasonable excuse. I clutched the cuffs at my wrists. “Grandmother, you know I’ve made my choice. I want to live in Pennarick, as a human. I don’t want to hunt as a wolf, and certainly not with Patrick. This isn’t an easy choice, but nevertheless, it’s the better one, and I don’t want to tempt myself to trouble.”

  “I see, I see,” she said. “I would have liked you to share that reward, but Patrick might be able to take care of it on his own. I’ll feel much better walking these woods without some rogue wolf on the loose.”

  What could I do?

  Patrick joined us for dinner. The entire meal was a blur of terror as I listened to him discuss his plans.

  If only I could get some sort of message to Agnar that Patrick was staying with the Donnells up on the hill and that he and Farmer Donnell planned to set out Sunday morning from the ridge. I knew everything now and I couldn’t write. But maybe it didn’t matter. I would be afraid to leave out evidence that I was on the white wolf’s side.

  Why did I have to be attracted to the one wolf who had committed a terrible crime and had no allies, even in his own clan?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Agnar

  From the shadows, I watched Fersa’s grandmother light the candles.

  I should go back to town. I knew this. But I couldn’t. The driving force of desire for my mate kept me close to her at all times. I wanted to protect her, even knowing I never could. This was always my most vulnerable time of year, when I could no longer fight what I was. Now, it had become impossible.

  So I stayed hidden, and I watched the door close on her and Patrick Rafferty. I smelled the traces of other wolves on the wind. My old clan didn’t usually range this close to human settlements. But I was not alone in this forest. They must be hunting me too.

  At least let me say goodbye before I’m caught…

  Patrick walked out of the house with a lantern in his hand, and got on his horse to ride off into the snowy night. Good. Leave her alone. I slept there, my head on my paws, watching the candle go out upstairs, where Fersa slept.

  In the morning, after breakfast, her grandmother also left. Fersa stood outside, watching her go. She was more beautiful than ever in the clothing of a peasant, her hair in a disheveled braid, her skirts hanging around her lean body without the cage of her undergarments, her red cloak bright against the snow. She went into the stable and I seized my chance. I shifted into a man, threw on my shirt and trousers, and crept in out of the forest. I would surprise her when she walked in the door.

  The cotta
ge was a cozy space and it smelled of her. I wished more than ever that things had been different. That I could give her a home.

  The table and two chairs were positioned by the woodstove, which was warm. Freshly baked scones were on the table. Her grandmother’s bed was against the far wall. I was considering helping myself to a scone when she walked in and her eyes flew open.

  “You shouldn’t be here!”

  “I know.”

  “I’m serious! They’re hunting you! Grandmother went over to talk to Patrick just now!”

  “She’ll be gone for a while then.”

  “She said she would,” Fersa admitted. “She got up early to bake, and told me to make my own lunch…”

  “I can’t stay away,” I said. “Fersa…you’re my mate now. Everything in me is screaming to be near you. I’ve resisted my true nature for fifteen years. And all it’s given me is a life of loneliness. You’re right. Learning only goes so far…”

  “Don’t say that!” She flew right onto my lap, her cloak fluttering behind her, and threw her arms around my neck. “Please…you have to keep resisting. I’m sorry I tried to convince you otherwise. I need you to be human—and stay safe. Please—go!”

  I clutched her body. What I felt for her was more than mere lust—it was raw need, insistent as having to eat or sleep. “I don’t know if I can.”

  Her eyes melted into mine. “I know. I feel it too. Aren’t we silly? Our kind can think like humans but we still have to act like animals.”

  “Just in case I’m caught, I had to see you one last time.”

  I felt her quickening breath as my hands spread on her back. Now there was nothing between her skin and mine but a layer of wool and another of linen. She felt soft and strong at once. “I need you one last time…,” I said. “You’ve done this to me, Fersa. I managed just fine before you came along.”