Butterflies and Hurricanes

I was rather cosy the following morning, cuddled up close to the side of my beloved with his one good arm draped across my back. He, of course, lay beneath the sheets of his bed and I lay atop of them in my dressing gown. No obvious misdemeanours that could have been fathomed from such a position, not that either Brian or myself would permit them till we were wed.

But that was not how the maid reacted whereupon discovering where I had fallen asleep the night before, screamed to the high heavens till the both of us woke and alerted a problem to the rest of the house. Brian's mother pursed her lips - partly at my self for being in Brian’s room, and partly at the maid for clearly insinuating we had been up to no good - and led me out of the room back to mine.

My good mood dissipated then as she closed the door behind me and stoically I washed and allowed my maid to help me dress. When I was done and suitable to face the day I took a deep breath and wandered downstairs, sighing when I saw the extent of the damage done to the Haner's beautiful home.

The broken glass had all been swept up and the blood had been mopped away, so the floor was all but pristine again; the broken closet door had been removed and outside through the open front doors I could see a carpenter and his apprentice busy making a replacement in the driveway.

The body was also certainly gone and for that I was grateful; I did not want to face that again. It was bad enough the attack had even occurred in the first place. Sighing I moved into the dining room where my father and mother-in-law were sat at the table entertaining my own parents and my grandmother.

They all looked up at me when I entered but I kept my eyes on where I was walking. I didn't want to see the sympathetic looks in their eyes, nor the questions they wanted to ask in their expressions. I knew full well what I was getting into when I first allowed myself to get so involved with Brian and his friends so I did not deserve the sympathy. The questions I just simply could not face at this point.

"We shall need to talk about last night at some point," my father spoke first, still reading the newspaper. "You have a lot to explain."

I stopped spreading jam on my slice of toast and finally met his eyes before returning to the task at hand, methodically moving the sticky red substance around the edges and then across the centre. I delicately brought the slice to my lips and bit off a corner, savouring the sweet taste of strawberries on my tongue.

"Kirsty your father is speaking to you," Mum then said.

I placed the toast on my plate, dabbed my lips with my napkin, then rest it on my lap and began to furl a corner in my fingers. "I heard him," I replied to her, meeting her eyes directly across the table. Where I sat on Suzanne's left I felt very much safe from any angry storm they may want to throw at me. I returned to eating my toast.

"Would you like to make any sort of start, young lady?" Dad pressed the issue. I remained tight lipped. He stood up now, pressing his hands against the table top and glowered across at me. "How could you be stupid enough to get yourself involved with dangerous men?! Well?!" My fathers fist came down so heavy on the table that cups and saucers and cutlery rattled against the table top, and I jumped in my seat. "Answer me you ignorant little girl! Don't just stare at me! Say something!"

"Do not to speak to my future wife that way sir!" A familiar voice growled and this time I squealed. Not out of fear but out of surprise; jumping up from my sitting position I span round and straight into Brian.

"You should be in bed!" I admonished. "The doctor has not even been to see you yet, you should be resting!"

"I am quite fine, Princess," he assured. Then he looked up at my father and a dark scowl filled his expression; I could hear him grinding his teeth. "I am much too impatient to remain upstairs in my bed anyway. I promise I will rest if I am tired, if that pleases you?"

I pursed my lips and folded my arms across my chest; he grinned down at me. "I guess I have no choice but to agree." He chuckled lightly and kissed my forehead tenderly before hobbling on a walking stick - leaning on it with his good arm that is - to a free chair. I watched him with concern, the winces he made never once missed by my attentive eyes.

The table returned to breakfast in silence. My father dare not speak anymore, not when the werewolf had yelled at him. When the meal was finished, Brian and his father dismissed themselves, being vague about where they intended to go. Somewhere into town since the carriage was being prepared in the yard. My mother-in-law took the decision to entertain my family for me for the morning so that I did not have to.

The men were apparently going to the Baker residence; a meeting of the pack had been called and they figured it would be better held away from the scene of the attack. If whoever had planned it intended on a second strike, they wanted to draw them away to a more remote location where less civilians would be present.

They would return after lunch in time for the doctor’s visit. I wasn't pleased with Brian; he was injured and clearly in pain. He wouldn't be back to full health for weeks and yet he was swanning off out of the house to do things he would not rest for. Had it been I who had been injured, Brian would not allow me to lift a finger let alone leave the bed until the Doctor had given his say-so.

I decided that I would write letters of sincere apology to all of our guests, thankful that the list of guests had been saved inside of the Haner's address book. Then again of course it would have been; I should have been writing letters of thanks this morning instead of apologies.

I started at the top of the list and worked slowly down. After four letters my hand felt cramped and I had to stop, laying the pen on the desk and shaking out my stiff fingers, allowing blood to circulate once more. I stared down at the half written fifth letter, then at the small neat pile of addressed letters. Tears pricked my eyes and I took a deep breath before releasing it quickly as a sigh.

"What are you doing, dear?" I looked up at the door to see Suzanne standing, holding the door open enough for her.

"Writing the letters of apology for last night," I answered, continuing. "I am so sorry Suzy for last night! I really am! Oh the town are going to think so awful of you a-"

"Most of the town know, sweetheart." I was caught off guard by her words and as such I sat staring at her with my jaw agape in the most un-lady like fashion. I think I must have mouthed a very impolite 'what' as she closed the door and crossed the room towards me. She picked up the letter, read it then set it down and brushed the loose blond tendrils of my hair back. "Most of the town are aware of such creatures."

"Oh."

"The pack has long embedded roots in the town's history - as long as there has been a settlement on this land, there has been a pack," she explained further. "Most families in the town have at least one member in the pack, there are a lot more of them than you realise." A strange look flooded her dark eyes. "Brian doesn't like to talk to you about this really, he thinks you are too involved already and he hates himself for that. That's why you never knew about the others, really. If it were up to him you wouldn't even be aware that he is a wolf."

I nodded, taking it all in. Then I picked up the letters and ripped them into shreds to throw onto the fire and burn them. If the town were aware of the other identities then I had no need to apologise to them for what had happened; they should plenty expect it. I didn't know what to do with myself now.

Suzy seemed to sense my helplessness and informed me she had seen the carriage rattling back towards the house. I smiled and made my way downstairs; the front doors were still open and wood shavings littered the marble floor. I smiled at the apprentice who tipped his cap before I headed outside into the driveway.

The carriage was just pulling up so I cautiously stepped away from the horses. They were snorting heavily, clopping their feet into the gravel and spraying it backwards. That was till the stable hand came over to take the reins from the carriage driver who helped to walk the carriage away and into the yard.

I headed inside with Brian and his father, who both wore very serious expressions. I knew this would be the time that I would have to talk to my parents, he did not have to speak the words, and I asked the maid to inform them to meet me in the drawing room. "Mother told you about the pack didn't she?" Brian whispered darkly, his face rather brooding.

"Yes." The word was curt, sharp and short.

"I wish she wouldn't," he seethed through gritted teeth.

I stepped onto the first stair and stood before him, glowering down upon his face. "Well you won't tell me so why shouldn't she?" I snapped. "I'm a big girl I can look after myself."

"You would be dead if it wasn't for me!" He shouted. "Several times over too so how you can estimate that you are capable of looking after yourself I do not know!" He pursed his lips. "That aside you are eighteen - you won't be nineteen for seven or eight months.”

"And what has that to do with anything?"

Brian sighed heavily and looked down at his feet before stepping up onto the same step as me; we were so close I actually found myself stumbling backwards till I was sat on the steps and staring up at him. He held his good hand down and I climbed back up to my feet; I kept my mouth shut and waited for him to respond to me.

"You do not understand the way I see you, Kirsty," he spoke in a low murmur. Then he cleared his throat. "Lets just go talk to your family please? If you still want to argue with me we can do it in private later, away from prying eyes."

I followed the line of his eyesight to see a group of maids scuttling away ashamedly for being caught eavesdropping on their Master and his fiancée. I simply gathered my skirts and continued up the stairs to the drawing room. My parents and my grandmother were already waiting inside when the two of us entered.

As soon as the maid had bustled away I began from the top, allowing Brian to chip in wherever he felt necessary but by the time we were done it appeared they knew less than I knew. I thought I had mentioned everything but apparently not. They were silent, taking this all in. My grandmother began to smirk.

"Let me see your hand boy," she spoke, gesturing for him to come closer to her where she sat in her wheelchair. Brian stood and crossed the room, crouching before her and placed in her lap both hands; a wince shuddered across him as he strained to raise his right hand but he managed it. My grandmother discarded his left hand and studied the right, tracing her fingers over the all but invisible scar across the middle of his palm.

Eventually she let go of it, lowering it gently to cause as little disruption as possible to his wound. Brian grinned knowingly at her and she grinned back, looking so wonderfully youthful that the beautiful woman I remembered from my childhood shone through. He spoke quietly to my grandmother, consciously flexing his right hand as he often did when he thought about the silver necklace my cousin Harriet had dropped into his hand.

"I was right about you," she began, fixing her clenched hands neatly in her lap and fixing her washed out blue eyes upon Brian where he now sat beside me once more. "They all said I was mad with old age but I was right. What an honour this is for my grandson-in-law to be a werewolf. My own mother’s stories about your kind would rivet me."

"I'm glad I can give you the honour," Brian smiled pleasantly, his hands scooping up my left hand and holding it tightly between both of his. "Now I do believe the Doctor shall be arriving soon so I will take my leave."

He stood to leave and I quickly got to my feet too and followed him out of the room. I opened my mouth to say something but he paused in his step and turned to consider me.

"I told Zack you would visit tomorrow," he informed me. "Sarah seemed very upset about something, I hope it is not tension over what happened last night."

I pursed my lips irritably that he was fixing things for me to do with my spare time but I quickly let it go; I didn't have time to be having any more arguments with him today. "Okay."

"And you won't be going back to the other house," he then mentioned. "Not until I know it is absolutely safe for you to live away from me."