ii. eleven: ❝ heart would cease, ours never knew peace ❞
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𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠: francesca - hozier
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The drawing room of the Arrow House exuded an air of faded grandeur, with velvet drapes drawn to shield the room from the outside world. Ornate furniture, polished to a sheen, adorned the space, their dark wood frames standing in contrast to the soft hues of the walls. The crackling fireplace cast a warm glow, illuminating the room in a dance of shadows and light.
Grace settled into an armchair; a delicate glass of tonic and gin cradled in her hands as she engaged Louis in conversation. "I must say, Louis, London certainly has its charms. But I dare say, America holds its own allure, does it not?"
Louis chuckled, a twinkle of mischief dancing in his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. "Oh, indeed, Mrs. Shelby. America, with its bustling cities and wide-open spaces, is a world unto itself. But there's a certain charm to London's foggy streets and stiff upper lips, wouldn't you agree?"
"Quite right, Louis." Grace nodded, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "Though I must confess, I do miss the bright lights of New York and the allure of the American Dream."
Grace's mention of New York sparked a bitter amusement in Marianna's eyes. She raised an eyebrow, a sardonic smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Poughkeepsie, wasn't it, Grace? Such a tragic tale of love and betrayal, wouldn't you say? The bright lights of New York must hold a special allure for you indeed."
Grace's expression faltered, a flicker of discomfort crossing her features as Marianna's words cut through the jovial atmosphere like a knife. She shifted uneasily in her seat, her gaze dropping to her lap as memories of her tumultuous past resurfaced with painful clarity.
Tommy's gaze narrowed at Marianna in warning, the wisps of smoke from his cigarette swirling around his glass of whiskey as he leaned back on the plush settee.
Marianna met his gaze with mocking nonchalance, a smirk playing on her lips as she rose gracefully from her seat. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I seem to have an urgent appointment with the privy."
With a deliberate flick of her hair, she sauntered out of the drawing room, leaving behind a lingering sense of tension in her wake.
Marianna wandered deeper into the labyrinthine hallway, the grandeur of the house began to feel suffocating, its opulence a stark reminder of the distance between herself and the life she once yearned for.
