The Man In Silk Chains {Historical Mystery/ #2 in Blake Series)

Chapter 3: The First Droplet Of Blood

Chapter 3 

Soft music played, drifting into the air, swirling around and crashing back from the crescendo. It fluttered with the curtains which were pushed by the wind, and carried the sound to those fortunate enough to listen. Piano keys were pressed as if they were a key to the gates of Heaven, and his touch could make them open with loving arms.

Katherine watched with admiration as the young boy, continued to play. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, even as the wind blew blond curls into his face. The effortless, yet It did not match his sombre attire, his black morning coat, a white shirt, along with no jewels and a simple pair of black boots underneath the piano.  As the balcony doors allowed in more wind, it seemed to unfazed the Martin as he continued.

Although the young man, was at the knowledgeable age of fifteen he did not understand his guardian’s son’s hatred towards him. He had been brought to William’s household two days after they had met at the River Thames ball, no reason was given to him. William had seemed nice then, and accepted him into his household warmly. And, he had been given the tutorage of a young gentleman by William’s staff. Hired by Katherine he had a tutor, a valet and a governess.

But, William rarely talked to him. Apart from public affairs and polite dinners, he kept his distance from his adoptive brother. Katherine saw the hurt in the boy’s eyes, every time William rejected him, and she warned him there would be consequences. He shrugged it off, and never talked about why he couldn’t look the younger boy in the eye.

Love warmed her life every day, she knew he didn’t mean to hurt the boy this way. But, sometimes William was naïve of the feelings of others. Martin looked to her for approval. She mouthed; it was beautiful, earning a wide grin. “Sit down Martin, your tea will get cold,”

He nodded, and shut the piano lid gently. Tanned hands ran across the black piano, before he looked to the table. Walking across the marble floor, his riding boots hit the floor and he sat across her. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” He rubbed his forehead, pulling his chair in. “A little tipsy after last night,”

Katherine shook her head. She knew the young boy had enjoyed her wedding, the bite mark on his neck proving he hadn’t stayed without company last night. “William wouldn’t be pleased knowing you enjoyed company, unmarried,” Katherine joked, knowing William had done worse.

“He hates me,” Martin muttered underneath his breath.

Katherine took his hand into his. Her wedding ring sparkled in the light, the diamond only reminding Martin of his brother’s hatred. “He doesn’t hate you. Ever since his father’s will was written, and he was publically shamed, he has been this way.”

Martin raised an eyebrow, but adamantly said. “No. He looks at you with longing and love, he holds Christian with affection, even the servants are treated with respect! But not me, he hates me,” Martin said bitterly, picking up a roll as Katherine offered him honey.

She poured it generously on his roll, and as he watched the sweet yellow liquid drip, he suddenly felt sick in the stomach. When had he become so emotional? When his parents died, he had learnt that emotions showed weakness. Emotions were why he was here, because Mr Blake had tossed him at William and Katherine like a dog.

He was originally going to Lester, but after stubbornly refusing to, the youngest son had stepped in. Something had made Martin sceptical of William, his life was too perfect. His wife was exotic, beautiful and well liked amongst the ton, despite her colour. He had a growing business with branches now in Spain and Portugal, although the European tension was increasing because of the war. His blue eyes always held a sprinkle of disdain, more visible when Martin was in the room.