The Earl's Kitten

Chapter XXXVII

January 7th 1888, 20:45 PM

My hands flew up to cover my mouth, my eyes widening.

I slapped Timber.

The realisation ran through me, just as much as the sting of my palm ran down to my fingertips.

What have I done?

Slowly, Timber turned his head back to face me. Shock was written over his face like it was on my own. Unlike me, he had no tears in his eyes. Now his eyes said everything that he seemed to be unable to, pools of crimson swirling with emotion that I had not seen in a demon before. Silence reigned between us.

January 7th 1888, 20:50 PM

Something inside my chest cracked upon seeing the tears balancing on Rose's eyelashes. I found myself closing my eyes and taking a deep breath in, holding it for a few moments to calm myself. Then I opened my eyes once more, exhaling the breath and meeting her gaze head on.
"So, that's how you feel, huh?" I could feel the alcohol burning out of my system quickly, and I became more aware of what had happened. "You nearly get yourself killed, I save you, and you slap me for it."

The shock on her face melted away into confusion, eyebrows drawing together.

"What? I- no, that's not..." For a woman of noble blood, she could be very inarticulate. The brunette took a deep breath, wiping away the tears in her eyes with the heel of her palm before attempting to speak again. "That's not why I... reacted. Timber, you've not only gone against my wishes - I told you to stay at home - but you're also drunk. How could I not react to that?" Frustration creased her features, and she sniffed delicately.
"By not reacting. Simple."

"You sounded like my father!" Frustration turned to distress as her voice rose another level. I frowned lightly, vaguely recalling the whole issue she had with her father.

"I was hardly abusive, I did not call you a-"
"Don't." Her voice of distress dropped into cold, hard steel, and Rose glared me down. "I am sorry that I slapped you, but you were out of line just as much as I was." Turning, the young girl started walking toward the body once more, believing that was our conversation done with.

"How dare you walk away when I'm talking to you, woman!" My own voice rose this time, and Rose stopped dead in her tracks. Her shoulders trembled, the contract on the back of her neck glowing.

The next thing I knew, her butler stood beside her, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders and lifting her up into his arms like a princess. Carefully he turned to me, blue eyes watching me silently as he tucked Rose's face against his chest. Her legs dangled uselessly, almost lifelessly, over his arm.

"Mister Timber," Jackson greeted. Conscious of my shoddy clothing in front of the man Rose probably saw as a father figure, I tugged on the cuff of my sleeve. "M'Lady is truly sorry for her actions; I can assure you of that much. I shall collect her suitcase later on - I believe it may be best for you two to take some time apart and think for now." He bowed to me, strands of jet black hair falling into his eyes, my other half clutched tightly to his chest. "Good day."

With that goodbye, the butler turned once more, jumping up onto the roof of the pub. I huffed, clenching my jaw before speaking quietly, knowing full well that Jackson would hear me.
"Jackson, I would like to speak with you before you two leave. If you don't mind, could you please come down here?" He looked back at me, coattails blowing in the wind, strands of hair swaying about his face. With a sigh, he placed Rose down on the pub chimney, sternly telling her to stay there before jumping down to talk to me.

January 7th 1888, 21:00 PM

"Yes, Mister Timber? What is it you wish of me?" I looked at the young demon with a neutral expression. Being summoned to Rose's side after so long had not been in my plans tonight; I had not seen her in a week, and she most certainly hadn't told me that she would be out. I definitely wasn't expecting a fight between her and her friend.