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Chapter Two.The Sojourner
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There's nothing quite as exhilarating as standing in the midst of talent. The youngest Chevalier was rendered speechless upon stepping into the foyer, greeted by a warm smile in the form of a man. She tamed herself as best as she could, though her heart was thundering against her ribcage like a jackhammer, begging to leap from beneath her skin and fall to the tips of his shiny, vanilla loafers.
She admired him in a way unlike she admired Mr. Shepherd and her once beloved, Teddy Lowry. His soul rests now. The thought of him sends a chill straight through her bones. If she could rip her spine from her back, she'd free herself from the weight of it all. Such torment.
Teddy won't ruin this, she just wouldn't let him. So she tucks him away, somewhere he remains muted. His essence forgotten.
She admired Killian Alcott as an artist. As a gift in the form of well-thought words.
When he pressed his lips to her knuckles, she did not flush. She remained the same shade of ivory as always.
Maybe he would have had more of an effect on her if she hadn't heard the hushed chatter. People love to talk, it's all there is to do. His lovers aren't said to be of the feminine variety. Josette never quite understood why it mattered, who you shared intimate relations with, but it did nonetheless.
People said he'd rot for it. Josette believed he wouldn't. It just wouldn't be right.
They'd spoken briefly before the man disappeared up the broad staircase. When he was no longer in sight, Charles turned an awful shade of red and took off toward the back terrace. Delilah gripped the staircase railing and Josette gripped her mother.
