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

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Watson's dead!

December the, 1795. London, England.

The year of our Lord

Diary of William Blake

Georgina sobbed, holding herself for support, as the men took away her items. They did not look at their former mistress, nor did they comment, but took the heavy items out the room. Almost ten men, heads down, eyes looking at the cart which they had been ordered to take her things too.

The street of London did not seem so luxurious when your items were being carted out like a working class family. The evening sun was setting; the men had been there for several hours, only recently starting to move her furniture out of the house which she had grown up in for so long.

When it was time for the season, she recalled, she always came to this house in London. She would not see her father, Andrew came on rare occasions, and she was the charge of her nurse, tutor and housekeeper. Only once the final ball had ended, was she allowed to see her father.

She showed him her progress in piano, dance and how many dresses she had brought. One painting would be sent to the Blake's, another kept in her room to remind her what a beautiful woman she was growing up to be, the final piece painted so her father could show off his prize creation.

Georgina turned to her father, wiped the tears from her eyes and held his gaze. His green eyes usually nerved her, she would lose her composure and normally hold her nurse for support. But at this moment, she was filled with disappointment.

Her father had always cherished her; Andrew had always held her when she tripped after riding for too long, her mother loved showering her with the latest gowns. Now, because there was no chance of her becoming Mrs William Blake, they didn't care. It seemed when they could not benefit from her, she had failed her family name.

She clutched the handkerchief in her hand, her tears mixing with the sweat in her palms, and let go of Julian. "I will send you this gown as soon as I am able to acquire a newer gown, Lord Phillips,"

Julian wanted to hold her, but he had promised her she would have her independence during their marriage. That included in moments such as this, she was allowed to make decisions for herself, even if Julian was worried she wouldn't have enough clothes to wear after today.

She hiccupped, but pushed a blond wave out of her way and turned to the men. "The rest of my gowns are inside the cellar, a maid will direct you,"

Julian wanted to kiss her, pride in his eyes as she directed the staff without a fuss. He held back, and instead looked as Lance came running to them. He waved a letter frantically, thrusting into Julian's hands before collapsing onto the floor.

Julian helped him up, and they sat on the steps of Georgina's house, ignoring the looks of others. Julian ripped the letter open; it was from his uncle, The Viscount Byng. Julian's eyes widened, a smile spread across his face, and he hugged Lance. "He's giving us two hundred pounds!"

Lance hugged him back, hard. He knew how hard it must have been for his brother to face his uncle, and then dismissed. A day later, and a messenger has been told to bring Julian, who was trying to sort out the mess with Georgina's gather, and so Lance went in his place. This letter, the money, was very brave.

"You should spend it on furniture," Lance said dryly.

"And what will you spend your hundred on?" Julian mumbled into his shirt.

"You need it brother, you have a wife to support,"

"One day you will too," Julian wiped the tears off his brother's eyes, ruffling his short red hair, and then ran to Georgina.