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

Chapter 7: The Past and The Beginning.

The Past and The Beginning.

Ben broke the kiss, cupping Sybil’s cheek. He leaned in for another kiss. “I’ll go and find out what’s taking Cook so long with our baby,”

Sybil tried to sit upright, but pain shot through her body like a knife, she lay back down. Sweat trickled slowly down her face, a medal for her ten hour effort.

Ben kissed her again, and left the shack. He wanted to open the door, but was afraid of what would happen if he left it unattended. The overseer was a man who lusted after black slaves, Sybil was too tender for his rough treatment.

Ben was thinking to beseech for Sybil to be bought by Master Simon. They had grown close, and Ben knew he would never give up his childhood friend. However, he wanted Sybil and his baby to be close. He needed to protect them.

He searched around the courtyard, until he saw Cook at the tap. She was pouring water over the baby’s body, and he jogged to her in glee.

Then, he saw there were people watching her. There was a carriage, a white carriage.

Ben recognised it from somewhere… Master Carson’s mistress’ carriage! Ben was concerned because that woman was nothing but two long legs, and money.

Ben would never understand the concept of paying for sex.

Then, he saw the woman was walking with Master Carson. They were at Cook’s side. He took the baby, and Ben thought nothing of it, until the woman touched it.

Ben ran.

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“This looks, like what I’ve read about Liverpool, so industrialised,” Katherine commented.

William glanced at her worriedly. Ever since she had recalled her last memory, unable to find out more, she had not been able to focus on anything else. He had recommended she stay at home, but she had just asked him to take her mind off the pain.

He felt as if he had failed her as a husband. She was mothering a child born from rape, her memories haunted her and yet all she wanted to know was more. She wouldn’t tell him where she got the wine from and that made it all the more dangerous. It stimulated the body to produce memories, memories of things that no person wanted to recover.

How many times would she drink until she saw Watson in her dreams?

It would shatter her.

She nervously held his arm, her eyes not looking in one place for a longer than several seconds. She clutched harder at random intervals, shaking and unable to look him in the eye. When he asked if she was alright, she could barely reassure him without clutching harder.

She would have looked enchanting if it wasn’t for the pain in her expression. Today she wore, a plain grey gown. It was the colour of the misty sky, low necked gown which had a subtle stomacher and her wedding broach fixated between her breast. She had her hair bundled in a bun, some hung out whereas others had been left to bounce cupping her face.

She had been silent at breakfast and only drunk a little tea. Compared to their usual banter or heated debates, William felt alone. Even when he had brushed a strand of brown hair from her face, she had flinched and moved away. The rest of the carriage journey had been just as tense and even touring the gardens nearby had not lifted her spirits.

“Every day the workers come here at seven, they finish at three and then a new group comes in,” William explained, opening the door for his wife.

Katherine walked up the steps and peered into the room. Rows of men were side by side, others were looking at machinery and taking notes. They worked silently, rarely a whisper apart from orders, in sync with each other.