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

Chapter 5: Priests do not kill, they do not judge, they do not love.

William chuckled and glanced at the drink which had been placed on the table. “I never knew priests could drink,”

“I never knew businessmen could be so honest, and caring.” He picked up the glass of wine. “So touché as the French say,”

William smirked a little and picked up his glass. “How is the new Mrs Blake then?”

“She is currently in the Rose; it’s only a minute’s walk down, trying on some new gowns.” William explained. “I decided to have a drink because they were looking at chemises.”

Serling snorted, wondering how a married man was so prude.  He as a priest respected the female sex as God’s creations but would easily admire his wife’s body if he had one.  However, he had his parish members to look after and God to serve; he wasn’t prepared to take on a woman. A newly married man, on the other hand, did not have those dedications.

That reminded John of something. He found his spare copy of the Bible, and passed it to William. William looked confused, until Serling said. “Your wife has had quite the education from what I’ve heard; studying the Bible in Latin would be good for her.”

William politely took it, knowing it would be spiritually unwise to question a priest more.

They fell into a comfortable silence and took in more of their drinks. The lively singing that dominated the room in the night did not exist in the day. So, William listened to the guitar of a young man who played in the corner of the room. He sat on a stage, his clothes blending in with the wooden steps and the guitar he held in his hand.

William would describe him as roguish in his looks. He had brown hair which partially covered his face, it was shoulder length and curled at the ends. His complexion was almost olive rather than the alabaster skin of most of the men in the room; he seemed of an average height from his legs, shorter than William. However, his pristine white shirt which clung to his chest and fitted breeches showed he took care of himself.

William turned away when the boy looked up and made eye contact with him, and surveyed the rest of the tavern. Currently he was sitting at the bar, but there were seats and benches behind them. A coat of arms, from a local patron, hung on the walls.

“How is she then?”

“Adjusting. She’s adjusting.”

John nodded, now intrigued. “I had heard her upbringing was one of a similar sort to this, two deceased parents that were wealthy in the colonies. Using her inheritance to travel, she decided to visit the UK and has been here ever since, falling in love with our British culture.”

William almost spat out the wine in his mouth, hearing such an interesting life story. He knew Katherine was lying but it was pretty funny. Katherine had never stepped foot on American soil, she had been born a British slave to Aaron Watson and had been sold to William at nineteen. After inner confliction, William decided freeing her was for the best. William had proposed but she had refused, and she had left for five years. She only returned to him now, when he needed her the most, his soul keeper.

If John, especially being a member of the ton, assumed that Katherine had been a freed woman since birth it probably meant no one knew her true identity.  He was glad Katherine had been able to stay away from Aaron Watson; he assumed that was what had happened since he would have revealed the truth otherwise. William did not want to think of that bastard again. The way the man’s coal black eyes seemed to lack humanity, his voice was full of hatred and disgust. It made William thank God Katherine was out of his hands now, especially as his wife.

John could see William was thinking of something else, and cleared his throat.

William chuckled. “But that’s Mr and Mrs Byng, I am much more protective of my wife. My coachman, Tommy, is trained in the army. Out of retirement, he now works for me. Katherine is protected by him at all times, and he would give up his life for her. However, she has told me her parents weren’t so protective. Only escorts to her coming out season, picnics and such. It is taking her time to adjust to having her own… guard. I don’t think she understands who I am.”