Roaring Hearts(Book 1)

Chapter 8

"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë.

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Releasing the latch that bolted the door, he pulled it open, ushering Hasnaa in. Hasnaa held her heart in her hand, with unpleasing ideas running in her mind. James noticed her uneasiness and in return patted her on the shoulder, "I am with you." He whispered in her ears.

Immediately they stepped into the house, girls who appeared to be maidservants, run towards them and picked their luggage.

"Where should we keep the bags, my lord?" The girls asked, bowing their heads with their gazes falling immediately to the ground. Whether in London or Kalu village, women and servants are treated the same as worthless and useless pieces of garbage, Hasnaa thought to herself.

I shall never be a slave to a man, I am my person and I shall strive to remain that till my last breath. She said to herself.

"My former compartment and please inform John to tell father that I have arrived from Africa."
James' voice was enough to jolt her back to reality.

James and Hasnaa stood still waiting for one of the girls to return. They were conversing among themselves and James tried his best to calm her nerves down but he could not get through her.

"Lord Williams, your father, requests your presence at his study, where the whole Williams household shall grace you with their presence to welcome you." The girl returned with the announcement and after delivering the message she made a cutesy before making her exit.

"This is it," said James as he started walking towards his father's study. Hasnaa took measured steps behind James and braced herself for what was to come.

Hasnaa was gawking at the interior of the house. She was intimidated by its elegance and glamour, from the walls- its deep maroon color seemed to match the heavy bright pink curtains at the windows that flowed from the top to the floor. The house was fitted with a fluffy, thick black carpet, interwoven with scarlet and beige colors, the carpet had been the softest thing she had ever stepped on. It appeared soothing to her tired feet. She fluttered because of the wind that blew through the open windows at every corner of the house. The house was comforting, would the residents of the house be as comforting?

And moments later, James came to a halt before a brown wooden door and Hasnaa presumed they had arrived at the designated place; Lord Williams, study. The dreadful moment had arrived.

"Wait!" Cried Hasnaa, her voice merely above a whisper as they stood in front of the study. She seized James' hand and stopped him from knocking on the door.
She was trembling. "Hasnaa," he said softly. "Everything will be fine," he assured.

"B-but what if they hate me?" Hasnaa worried, it was evident from the glances she got the minute she stepped into the Williams house. They were bound to hate her.

"I will protect you," James promised her for the hundredth time. She nodded giving him the cue to make their presence known by the Williams family.

"May I come in?" James asked. And soon after the door was opened from the inside. Hasnaa keenly stared at the inhabitants of the room as she knew they were her husband's family and as well her own family. Five women finely dressed in beautiful and colorful gowns stood at one side of the room and two children; both girls stood beside the women. Two of the women appeared much older than the rest and Hasnaa was compelled to believe that one of them was James' mother. On the other side of the room stood two men, one older than the other. And at the center, a man sat at a mahogany table with his face facing the window. He was Lord Williams.

Trembling with fear, Hasnaa took continuous sharp puffs and made an effort to look as calm as the people who were glaring at her.

"Father, I have returned from Africa and I shall not be returning."