The Girl With The Sunset Eyes {Historical Interracial Romance/ #1 Blake Series}

Chapter 23

Chapter 23:

My head aches, so much. But I’m so happy because I can barely remember what I did last night. Apart from getting married to that girl. How could I do that to her?

December the seventeenth, 1795

The year of our lord,

London, England.

Katherine lay on the soft carpet of William’s floor. It was different to sleeping on Watson’s. This had been out of choice, and she had woken up to find covers wrapped around her, a pillow underneath her body.  She had probably fallen off the bed and had been wrapped up by William in her sleep.

Katherine felt embarrassed then. No one had tucked her in bed before, and it had to be her master.  Upon reflection, she did not know why she could easily fall asleep on the floor. It was not as comfortable as her bed, and she had previously been in the arms of a man that liked her. Someone liked her. That was odd. Someone hadn’t beaten her, or couldn’t look at her in the eye.

William Thomas Blake, the kindest man she knew, had held her that night, and kept her safe. Just as he promised to do, he had stopped her from having her daily occurring nightmares. She had remembered waking up in the middle of the night, when the moon was still high, and finding William was stroking her hand. He was whispering in the night, he had, at one point, whispered her name in his sleep.

Katherine felt hot then; she touched her hair subconsciously, as if someone was judging her. She had slept in his bed; her actions were nothing that should have come from a slave. But it seemed normal; William Blake was not a normal man.

Even now, as she slowly got up and looked at him, she confirmed it in her mind. He looked so peaceful as he slept, dead to the world, and oblivious to the confusion in his slave’s mind. Everything was so wrong, but it seemed she knew that everything would be alright.

Maybe he wouldn’t forgive her for her behavior, maybe he would punish her. But then again, maybe he would just treat her as a servant and part from this conflict they had been in. She had heard of both sides, and she wasn’t sure which one he would use on her.

William was in a deep slumber, and Katherine touched his cold hand, searching his face for a nonexistent answer. His lips parted, dribble running down the side of his bearded face. His eyes were fully shut and his body up to his waist was in full view.

It was unusual that only the previous night, she had been in his arms. And now, she was cleaning his mess and wondering whether to prepare his soap and his shaving things. It was just for night Katherine. You are not special, you have chores, said her inner subconscious.

She landed in her safety net, by starting some work. She collected the cups and withdrew to the kitchens.  

Katherine could not feel anything apart from her head that ached. She was decently dressed apart from the red spill that had dried on her cheek. She began to rub at the flaky red and then opened the kitchen door.

Finding it, for once, empty, she cooked herself some porridge adding a large portion of honey. Whilst her food cooled, she began to boil some water for William. As she ate her meal, she saw a shadow ad whispered. "Who's there?"

Lance stepped out the shadows. Although he came to her call he ignored her and looked around the kitchen. His stomach grumbled with hunger and Katherine offered him some porridge. He looked startled but took it all the same and sat at the opposite side of the table, quietly eating his food. "Why?"

"There was some spare," Katherine answered simply. In fact it was a nagging pain of pity that made her offer him some food.

“Oh,” He took it and thanked her before spooning some into his mouth. He rubbed the bruise on his face, and then spooned some more.