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

Chapter 15: Men in Power

James had hung a portrait of himself and William as teenagers. Lester was close to tearing up, instead he ploughed through the required paperwork. It was clear this case was in William’s favour, it was the judge who was hindering William’s release. He had refused bail already, which was sane considering the case. But now, he refused to have any witnesses from the defendant. It was not against the law and Lester was scared. 

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It was quiet. Katherine would never cry whilst she was accommodated here. She had removed the dress once Blake had left and slept until the next day. Her dreams had been blissful, she felt almost childlike and the roaring fire had meant her lack of clothing was not a problem. Now, she was staring at the fire as it flickered. 

Her day had been unusual. She had expected Blake to torment her again. Instead, a maid had brought her a hot bath and a meal. There had been a newspaper and Katherine had requested a book. The maid had pointed out there was a small book shelf in the corner. Filled with fiction tales and real ones, scrolls of poems, the shelf had been her escape from this luxury prison. 

The maid reminded her of Mary. Unlike this girl, she was only quiet in front of William. The dutiful maid was opinionated and lively when William was at work. She helped Katherine pick gowns and accessories, although she was silent when it came to the bookstores she ventured in. 

Now, it was late. Katherine had been given her dress back and was now listening to the violins coming from downstairs. There was clearly a dinner party, which was one reason her attentive maid had probably not returned, and the murmurs of mingling did not detract from the music. 

Although she was not tired, she was restless. The lack of power was nauseating. Her father in law had gone out for business, according to the mousey maid; now he was entertaining his guests. 

As she dozed off, Katherine placed the book on the mahogany table beside her. She had already drawn the curtains; there was no point in seeing a forbidden freedom in her eyes. So, she blew out the candle and headed over to the bed. 

Her feet, still bare, made their way to the canopied bed and as she overturned the covers, she heard the door creak.

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She had dreamt about her mother.  Katherine assumed it was about her mother. It had come randomly, since she had previously been in an abyss beforehand. It was a detailed dream about her which nauseated her. 

To help her recollect her thoughts, she picked up a pen and began noting down what she could remember… 

Aaron Watson Junior felt irritated; he was in a rush and had no time for female hysteria. Last night she had sat beside him and listened to his concerns, she had no one to turn to and seemed to feel sympathy, unlike his brother. 

He was an impulsive, young man. But, he knew what he wanted in his life. England was his calling and where he belonged. His European tour had put it into perspective. He would live in Europe. He had to move on but he couldn’t do it without his slave, even if he wouldn’t admit it. In the days running up to his departure, Sybil had changed. 

Sybil was eighteen and a house slave. She usually worked in the kitchen but Aaron demanded she stay around his room. He found comfort in her sweet voice and insightful ways. He was foolish to believe she would want to go to England, she was a stupid nigger who needed to be told what to do. 

Even as Aaron stared at her working in the kitchen, she ignored him. Ever obedient Sybil was already wearing the travelling garment he had bought her but still cut the potatoes for supper. She shuddered when he stroked her neck, clutching her necklace and closing her eyes Sybil knew it was time to go.