Free To Eternity by Daisy Banks

friends, lots of them, useful friends who didn’t ask too many questions, and he always got what he wanted.

Chapter 7
    Dressing for their Bonfire Night dinner on the 5th of November seemed an activity both familiar, yet also recalled from the distant past. Tonight, Magnus discovered his trouser waistband was a little loose. No doubt he needed a new dinner suit. He glanced to the jacket on the hanger. The lining, too, didn’t please him. The lime green satin, patterned with brown circles, no longer spoke of sophistication. He should go back into the local town to pick up the new jacket he’d ordered. In fact, he might order a complete new wardrobe.
    Sian would forgive him his lack of current fashion sense as she had forgiven him in matters far more complex. She hadn’t fled at his confession of what he was, and even though she’d not hidden her natural fears at the prospect of facing “the beast,” she’d listened and accepted him.
    Since that day, he’d done all he could to convince Sian that no matter what, she was and would always be his love.
    Now there was the problem in a nutshell.
    His reflection wavered in the ancient mirror as he tweaked to straighten his bow tie, and once more, he examined the options concerning Sian. He couldn’t give her up, such a course was impossible, but nor could he yet face taking the step to make her like him for eternity. She deserved choices, needed the time to experience more of the world, of life as a young woman without the burden of centuries to consider, and the trials of transforming to wolf-form with all the needs the creature demanded, satisfied once a month. She must have the chance to leave him, if she wished.
    No experience had yet stolen her faith in the future. He’d not be the one to inflict that loss on her.
    â€œI’m afraid you’ll have to accept my word for now and have a little patience for what you think you desire.” Her reaction would be familiar if he said those words to her tonight. The involuntary expression she was unaware she made and her wide appealing gaze would caress him. If he didn’t take care, she’d wheedle a promise of further discussions on the subject.
    He no longer smiled as he set the silk cummerbund around his waist.
    By making her wait, he risked losing Sian forever. He had to accept the possibility. The thought of her loss chilled his heart, but he had no right to demand more of her. Though she might believe she’d be willing to give him everything, he’d no wish to live with her bitter recriminations a hundred years hence if it turned out she wasn’t. They had years until the decision might become imperative to slow her aging. Somehow, when the filming was completed, he would take her mind from the worries that belonged in the future.
    He pulled on his dinner jacket and shrugged his shoulders to make sure there were no wrinkles in the fabric.
    No wonder Sian seemed tense at present. What with the discovery of his possible relationship to Martha Raynalds, the vile intrusion of Gorsewell into her dream, and all the preparations for the filming, she’d a lot on her mind. Her understanding of him as the wolf must also take a toll. Not many individuals could assimilate such knowledge without it twisting their opinion of him. Experience had taught him that much.
    Tonight’s entertainment would take her mind from some of her concerns, perhaps. When they retired this evening, he’d do his damndest to use pleasure to blot everything from her thoughts. He pulled on his wristwatch, six-forty. There’d be time for a glass of sherry before dinner. The door to her tiny dressing room remained closed, and he’d no doubt she’d stay in there until he left their room.
    â€œI’ll meet you in the yellow drawing room,” he called before he made his way out to the stairs.
    * * * *
    Sian squinted into the mirror, trailing her eyeliner along one lid. She