So...I put this on ao3 and COMPLETELY forgot to post it on wattpad as well, I'm so sorry :( here's chapter two! You'll get chapter three first to make up for that! 

——

"This house was originally built in 1735." Danielle commented as a servant filled her porcelain and gold cup with steaming darjeeling tea cascading from the narrow spot of the matching pot. She watched the flow with distant eyes, pulling them away when the stream came to a halt and the servant rotated to Odette sitting beside her at the round tea table. A silver platter of finger sandwiches and some of the delicacies Gerard gifted them with was positioned at the center of the table along with dressings for their tea in bone china, pressed napkins draped across their laps to capture any fine mess they may create. Light streaming in through the cathedral window freckled across Danielle's hair, spots of sunlight capturing the shrunken pupils in her feline forest green eyes and illuminating the dusting of freckles working between her eyebrows and down across the bridge of her narrow nose.

"So long ago." Gerard counted the amount of years between the origins of the manor and the current year.

"It was custom made for a wealthy family. A dream home, some would say. It truly is a dream, isn't it?" Danielle's eyes flitted all around the room and out the clear view of the windows as the splattering rain outdoors sprinkled against the glass.

"Certainly. I don't think my wildest dreams could ever come up with a home as extravagant as this one." Gerard's lips raised at the corners. "Were they fond of the macabre?"

"Oh yes, of course. The lady of the house wrote gothic literature and horror. A man breathless with love made a home for her and their child." Danielle rolled her lips into her mouth, amusement rapidly draining away from her face. "It wasn't always like this. Many renovations have been done."

"How did it look before?" Gerard asked curiously as the same servant came around the table to fill his cup. He thanked her quietly and she smiled faintly, averting her eyes while on duty.

"It wasn't simple restyling. There was a ghastly fire that ate up nearly an entire half of the manor." Danielle's lips turned down in a grimace, her gloved hands folded in her lap. "Awful destruction. Part of the foundation collapsed, it was a disaster. Thankfully, the other portion of the manor was saved, but needed renovation to fit with the new blueprint of the damaged half."

"A terrible fire, you say? Was it an accident?" Gerard dumped a small teaspoon of sugar into his tea, the spoon scraping against the bottom of the porcelain as he stirred in, not taking his eyes off Danielle in his intrigue.

"It was not an accident. It was a heinous crime."

Gerard sat back as he was further stricken by the reasons behind the fire. He couldn't understand how anyone could be cold enough on the inside to cause harm to a loving family creating their life in a home where every corner was inspired by the love spun between them.

Danielle continued on with an explanation. "Rumors swirled all over town that the young lady who eventually owned the household and her mother were involved in witchcraft."

Shock unfurled in Gerard so strongly that it circulated in tingling currents of electricity flowing through his blood. His eyes widened, looking past the curls of steam rising from the porcelain cup prettily sitting in front of him. "Witchcraft. What bold claims to be made. Surely not something to be treated lightly, what reasons could they have possibly had to draw such a conclusion?"

Danielle continued on with her tale. "Her mother was a healer of nature, so to speak. Ever since she was a child, her connection to nature and the world was strong. She utilized it for the greater good. She made organic salves, potions for illness, things of the sort. Miracles, practically, for no sickness lasted more than a few days at most when she utilized her remedies. She taught her daughter her ways, and the girl saw nothing but purity in each of her concoctions. She was a good-hearted woman who only wished to aid the sick. Outsiders were incapable of seeing it that way. They claimed it was the work of magic, some higher power done in rituals and possible sacrifices, all ridiculous things that lived in their imaginations. Light magic or dark, it mattered not to them. All of it was a work of impurity and satanism."

"There is no darkness or crime in that," Gerard murmured softly. "There was no reason for her to be punished." Sadness blanketed heavily over his shoulders. A curl of darkness whispered across his thoughts to recall the witch trials burning the flesh of innocent women tied to the stake, their agonized screams engulfed by the thunderous flames and lashing shrieks of witnesses celebrating the death of an alleged witch. In a way, those who cast the fire onto the manor were burning their witches, vile modernization spinning the crime anew. Gerard suppressed a shiver, disturbed by mental images flashing before his wide eyes.

"People can't accept what they don't understand, Mr. Way. Her remedies were her secrets; mankind's lust for knowledge makes them fear the unknown." Blair Ophelia reminded Gerard in her subtle Southern twang of an important factor going into the reasons behind the wicked attack spitting flames at the manor. She was a lady of the house Gerard had only introduced himself to a moment ago, a lady of demure quietness with smoky dark skin glowing in the broken rays of sunlight coming to lather her short chestnut curls in darkening gold. She appeared as young as Odette, not a hint of age surrounding her dark amber colored eyes or her full lips permanently set in a melancholy frown matching the vacancy in her gaze unless she was spoken to. She looked as if she was molded together with sunlight-lathered embers shining out through honey brown eyes.

"You're right, Blair." Danielle solemnly nodded her head, pressing her lips into a tight line. "Mankind is despicable."

"So somber, Danielle. Not all of us are odious. For instance, you adore me." Odette interjected with a delicate reminder followed by a little chuckle, as frail as the eyelet lace of her gloves as she collected a small sandwich between her fingers. Her eyes flickered to Danielle who met them in an instant and softened with a faint smile.

"Evidently not. Exceptions have come and gone, some lingering." Danielle agreed. "There are some who are taught well and others who choose the wrong path."

"What happened when the house was burned?" Gerard asked with a furrow to his brow. He glanced around the household concealing every trace of the blazing tragedy setting it aflame.

"The girl's father returned home after being away for a month. He was a busy man, always working hard for their luxuries." Danielle continued along with her tale. "He demanded the house to be reconstructed, and the men paid the price for their crimes. As a man of power, his wish was everyone's command. It worked in their favor, at least on that end."

"I'm glad no one got away with their crimes. I would riot if they had." Gerard spoke in earnest, drawing his tea forward to take a small sip once it touched his lips. The warmth swirled through his gullet and resonated pleasantly. "Could they live peacefully after that?"

"I'm afraid not, sir." Danielle's smile became terribly sorrowful, leading Gerard's reaching hand to hover above a pastry for a sore moment.

"Why is that?" He asked, rounded eyes attempting to decipher a part of the story left unsaid somewhere in her expression appearing as though she reflected on the tale through a vision of some sort.

"Enough with these dreadfully depressing stories." Odette cut through the thickening tension with her falsetto voice, a fluttering sigh drawing all eyes to her. Her hands cupped delicately around her cup of tea. "Not during afternoon tea, Danielle."

"You're right. Forgive me, Mr. Way." Danielle's polite smile fell short in her eyes casted down onto the table. "I get rather caught up in these stories."

"I'm curious to know. I don't mind." Gerard wasn't so patient in his nature, and once something pried open his fascination, he couldn't escape it. It would continuously run through his mind until his curiosity got the best of him.

"At a more appropriate time." Danielle cleared her throat softly, straightening her back. "After supper, maybe."

"There will be no supper if our young one doesn't return in time." Blair slowly dragged her spoon through her tea with a downward turn of her lips matching the strangely somber tone of her voice. It was a permanent thing, Gerard assumed, as he noticed it was present even while being introduced to her.

"He ran off again?" Odette asked, raising her cup to her lips and peering over the brim.

"Just a trip to the bakery to retrieve some fresh bread. He insisted on going instead of letting one of the servants take over." Danielle informed her inquiring housemates.

"Is that what he told you? I beg to differ, I'm certain of the real reason why he's paying the baker's son a visit." Odette mumbled, a soft smirk forming at her mouth, while Danielle chastised her with cold eyes. Gerard's struggled to keep his face composed despite the way he grew rigid in his seat at the mention of their young boy seeking out the same sex, such a casual mention. Gerard had no vendetta against such things, finding he dabbled in attraction to all sexes, but he'd been under the impression a child was amidst from the way the ladies of the house spoke about him. He supposed he was wrong.

"Bold words, but true nonetheless. He's terrible at keeping secrets." Blair showed a faint trace of amusement.

Gerard struggled not to indulge his curiosity over the mystery member of the household due to the ways the ladies kept things brief as possible, snapping their mouths tightly shut after sharing only the bare minimum of detail. For his protection, Gerard presumed, though it was a tad befuddling since Gerard was to stay in the manor for an extended period of time, leaving their crossing paths mostly inevitable unless protectiveness ran so deep that he'd remain hidden at all times. He suspected the peering figure he caught in the halls outside his chambers was the youngest. Judging from the way he scurried out of the hall the moment Gerard noticed him, the boy was a shy soul.

Aside from the mention of a missing member of the cluster of people caring for the house, the history buried beneath the lavish dark marble and wood upholding the foundation whispered to Gerard, tendrils sweeping across his ears and tickling at the back of his neck like the dull ends of fingernails dragging dreadfully cold across his skin. The sensation was ephemeral, yet it made Gerard turn his head nonetheless, nearly choking on the sip of tea resting atop his tongue. He swallowed it down hurriedly before he could sputter and ruin his table manners, making an unfavorable impression in front of the ladies at the table. His heart hammered from the remnants of the chilling touch of the past grazing his skin.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Way?" Odette asked with a concerned furrow to her pale brows, puzzled by his sudden reaction to seemingly nothing.

Gerard felt a surge of blood rushing to his face now glowing in a scarlet hue that he was certain appeared unflattering against his fair complexion. "Y-Yes, pardon me. I nearly swallowed wrong just now."

"I thought you swallowed your tongue for a moment." Odette's expression cleared all traces of concern and shifted into a subtle smile hidden behind the rim of her cup.

Gerard chuckled, though his fingers went to retrace the place he felt the oddest sensation, wondering if it was merely a writer's wild imagination manifesting it or a draft had twirled along his skin.

—

After a refined supper in the late hours of the evening served in the grand dining hall, stories of tragedy did not resume, to Gerard's faint dismay. He found Danielle was tense over the lack of her young one's presence at home, a most concerning matter, but her companions reassured her it was an ordinary habit of his to stray, losing track of time until he eventually trailed back home. Gerard chose not to request a round of stories either for Danielle's sake, knowing he'd be distraught as well had he been placed in her position.

Gerard took his free time as an opportunity to wander off to the cavernous library he hadn't gotten a chance to drink in entirely during his brief tour of the manor. He drifted down the long corridors illuminated in flickering candlelight and was sucked into the maze-like structure of the sharp turns and abundance of doors to pass by first. He became mildly disoriented by the swirl of piercing eyes peering through the paintings and the writhing touches of fire at the wicks of candles casting strange shadows along the fine rugs. The house was ever so strange, seeming to warp underneath his feet the more he ventured out, a confused and mildly distressed pucker forming between his brows as he came to the realization that he was lost.

Turning back, Gerard was startled out of his skin by the presence of a servant standing behind him. His hand flew to his chest as the equally alarmed servant stepped back to allot some space between them after they nearly collided.

"Good heavens, I had no idea anyone besides myself was in this corridor." Gerard breathed, waving an apologetic hand half-heartedly as his accelerated heartbeat pounded at his ribcage.

"I didn't mean to give you a fright, sir, my apologies!" The male servant's familiar walnut colored eyes were wide. "I was making my way to the library when I saw you pass by. You seem lost."

Gerard breathed out a chuckle, "Is my confusion so evident?"

The servant's full lips cracked into a smile. "Yes, and you're headed in the wrong direction."

Gerard looked over his shoulder, then ahead of him, sighing in defeat. "Of course I am. If it wasn't already obvious, it's my first night at the manor. I have yet to memorize what goes where."

"It's more common than you think, our visitors getting lost. This house is massive, it takes adjusting." the servant held out a welcoming hand to Gerard. "My name is Raymond, preferably Ray, Toro. I work here, though I'm sure you've guessed so by now."

Gerard clasped Ray's hand and offered him a hearty handshake. "Pleasure to meet you, Ray. But– we've met before."

"I delivered you to this place."

"Ah, my eyes don't deceive me! I didn't get the chance to properly introduce myself. I'm Gerard Way. I've come here from New York looking to write a new novel. I heard this was just the place to find inspiration for my kind of work, although I'm sure you've heard all this from the ladies who live here."

"I've only been given half the detail. New York, you say? You've traveled far." Ray released Gerard's hand. "I've heard your name, but haven't had the pleasure of reading your work. What interest does your writing take?"

"I've an eye for all sorts of literature, but lately, horror calls to me the most. I adore gothic literature and I've finally decided to write some of my own."

"Ah, then the manor will satisfy your search for inspiration well." Ray glanced around the halls. "It's a bit frightful, isn't it?"

"As frightful as it is marvelous." Gerard smoothed his hands over his dress shirt and asked, "You mentioned you were headed to the library? That's exactly where I was headed. Or, well, exactly where I wasn't headed, apparently." He sheepishly ducked his head.

Ray's face brightened. "Allow me to lead the way, sir. Perhaps keep your eyes peeled to remember its exact location next time you plan to pay it a visit."

"Ah, you can call me Gerard. I'll be staying here for a while and formalities are hardly needed for someone like myself, in my opinion."

"But aren't you a known writer?" Ray began on the route leading towards their destination.

Gerard followed in suit, surprised by the briskness of the servant's pace. "I've yet to become a very recognizable one. It's a dream of mine to have my work known by the whole world. I— I think it's interesting enough to achieve my goal.  I'm not one to be delusional, at least, I promise you that."

"Oh, I can sense the passion radiating from you, Gerard. Not to mention the resolve. There's no doubt you'll go places with whatever you create."

"That's surprisingly kind of you." Gerard was hardly complimented by his peers, but upon the observation of a near stranger, he found enthralling validation that strengthened his confidence in his dream.

"The truth can be a very rewarding thing." Ray flashed a beam over his shoulder and halted in front of the familiar double doors with convoluted designs carved into the dark wood. He clasped the brass handles and pushed them open, beckoning Gerard to follow him inside.

The library was just as grand as every other portion of the house, vivaciously drawn curtains and antique rugs running along the colossal bookshelves abundantly stocked with as many books as one's mind could possibly imagine. The fireplace was ablaze and a young lady stocked it with fresh wood, respectfully bowing her head at Gerard's entrance. There weren't as many unnerving additions in the decor, no taxidermy or strange objects appearing as though something sinister was nestled inside, and was deemed a rather pleasant escape from the eeriness of the estate. It still held the same weird charm as all the other cold walls did, a dreary color palette with elaborate structures and a cathedral ceiling pointing towards the evening sky.

"Were you searching for something specific, Mr. Way?" Ray politely asked.

Gerard tore his eyes away from the array of books capturing his fascination. "I'm intent on finding as many horror novels as possible for inspiration."

"We have plenty. If you'll give me a moment, I could gather them for you, I have some recommendations."

"I'm certain you must have every book in the entire world in here," Gerard breathed out a laugh, "How is this possible? How does one household contain so many books?"

"They were all imported here from all over the world. This library has always been here, but it wasn't always so resplendent. This was made in honor of her." Ray gestured towards the wall above the wide mouth of the fireplace spitting flames. Gerard followed the direction of his index finger and found a towering portrait of a woman delicately folded in a chair surrounded by vases of flowers, a gown of emerald pooled around her. Mischievous almond shaped eyes of a woman  seemed alive in the painting complimenting her beauty which could've been spotted from miles away.

Gerard was so enraptured by the liveliness of the woman depicted that when he turned back, he was startled to find Ray already striding down the rows of books to collect what Gerard requested. He scrambled to catch up, casting another glance at the portrait.

"Who is she?" Gerard couldn't resist asking.

"Lady Jessamine. The most . . . dearest friend of Danielle." Ray nodded once. "The library was her birthday gift. Jessamine had a penchant for books of all kinds."

"Is she from town? I suppose she doesn't take residence here, I haven't been introduced to anyone of her likeliness."

"You unfortunately won't get the opportunity to meet her, Mr. Way," Ray's voice took a grim twist causing dread to form in Gerard's gut before the words were spoken. "There was a tragic turn of fate. We were forced to witness her burial several years ago."

Gerard's heart sank through the ground as he continued to follow Ray along the shelves. From her image, the painting told the tale of an animated young woman with a promising future had it not been stolen away from her so suddenly. Those who passed far too young always filled Gerard with a deep sorrow he couldn't shake and he was already with a feeling he'd grow heavy with this knowledge when he attempted to sleep at night.

"That's terrible," Gerard frowned and slowed his pace, "She seems not much older than any of the women here in her portrait. What could've possibly taken her life so soon?"

"Jessamine was an actress with incomparable talent. So much passion, she was the most eccentric young lady." Ray's saddened smile was overshadowed with her memory. "It was inevitable that someone in the background would grow insanely jealous of her. Jealousy drove an unknown person to madness, and before anyone knew it, she was plunging from the box seat of a most prestigious theatre to her death."

"Christ," Gerard breathed, "No one ever found out who was responsible?"

"Out of a sea of envious women, it was difficult to pluck one out in specific. Authorities tried to make it seem like suicide." Ray rolled his eyes and plucked a book from the shelves to add to his growing pile cradled in his arms. "None of us were so gullible or stupid to believe it. Jessamine would never leave us. Especially not Danielle."

"They say to never assume someone's emotional state despite how they seem on the outside."

"Wise words, but had you known her, you'd agree with all of us." Ray had trouble balancing the growing pile of books, so Gerard began his own pile whenever Ray retrieved a new novel.

Gerard frown was a permanent twist of his lips as melancholy eclipsed his heart, mourning the soul of a woman he never knew, but it didn't take personal encounters to grieve a life unjustly torn away from an innocent person.

"I've had the privilege of never experiencing so much death, apart from my grandmother's passing. I was too young, my emotions weren't all that mature yet, but I remember the sadness of accepting she'd never return. If I lost her now . . ." Gerard wasn't certain if he'd be able to withstand that sort of pain now that he was more conscious of things. More knowledgeable about things like life and death.

"We've had time to grieve, but the best we can do is move forward and remember her fondly." Ray slowed and gave a wistful smile. "I like to remember her dancing in the sitting room and dragging Danielle up with her. Danielle hates dancing, but she did it for Jessamine."

"She sounds like she was wonderful company to have," Gerard's returning smile was overbrimming with sympathy he wasn't sure he could adequately express. "I'm truly sorry you had to say goodbye to her so soon."

"The most morbid thing about death is that people think it to be something that takes that person away from us forever, but it's truly the opposite." Ray's eyes glinted as he balanced a silver-edged copy of The Fall of the House of Usher atop of the surplus of books in Gerard's arms. "The ones we think we've lost simply travel to another plane of existence where we can't see them, but it doesn't mean they aren't there. That's something to keep in mind for the dreary day someone you love passes on, Gerard. Maybe your grieving won't be as taxing."

—

That night, nestled in rich covers and sheets so smooth against his skin, Gerard sank into a land of dreams welcoming him with harrowing imagery. He dreamt he wandered through the dense forest beyond the manner, bare feet padding along the frosted grass as fog curled around his ankles, rising higher towards his waist. He felt the bitter bite of the winter nipping his skin, clad in only the thin fabric of his pajamas, the exposure causing a chill to coil at the base of his spine and ripple through him sharply, his teeth clicking together. The silence of his damp and gray surroundings was incredibly unnerving and he was unaware of the reasons he embarked on a dreadful journey, only knowing that there was the most bizarre desire to move forward despite the sparks of fear worsening every second he passed along the earth frozen underneath him. The sound of his shuddering breath echoed in his skull the way his blood rushed in his ears from the frantic pulses of his heartbeat hammering away at his ribcage as though to fracture the bone and set itself free, turning back the way his legs refused to do. The fog seemed endless, as tightly knitted as it was, concealing the unknown.

His leg caught, a short yell escaping from him, dragging him down into the suddenly sodden floor breaking away so the outer shell yanked him under. Gravity dissolved as he endlessly floated in the black, screams ailing him, an atmosphere of existential dread encompassing him before a sharp pang of reality split through him and he landed back in the manor he currently stayed in. Only, he was planted in the foyer, the front doors wide open to allow in freezing gusts of violent wind surging in. The air caressed Gerard's skin and sank its sharp teeth into it, and as he jerked forward on instinct, he found his feet were planted to the ground, incapable of moving. His large eyes darted up to the aggressively stirring chandelier above his head responding frighteningly to the relentless wind bound to frost over the manor just like the world outside if the doors didn't slam shut in time.

Then, to his complete horror, a shadow dusting across the ceiling began to take form. The shape it took was similar to a human, but its edges were too distorted, too crooked and grotesque for it to be another human being. The twisting sound of its brittle bones resounded in the room over the whistle of the wind as it slowly dragged itself along the ceiling, spindly fingers digging into the beams for leverage and chipping away the wood with its savage grip. Suddenly, its speed increased the more it writhed, taking after a spider scrambling onto the chandelier to crouch atop of it. Glowing white eyes as murky as milk stared down at Gerard who was immobile like a stone; unable to scream out for help, to run, or to slowly ease out of the manor in case sudden movements would trigger the skeletal beast resting its diluted gaze on him through the darkness.

A gargled noise escaped the creature and evolved into a most formidable hiss like slime running against Gerard's skin. Its head twitched, bones cracking, the sound coming from it again, only it was far more clearer that this figment of pure horror was speaking;

"A demise under the roof of the Boulet manor is your damnation."

The creature coiled like a spring, an ear-splitting cry erupting from its very core, before it leapt down from the chandelier to wrap its bony fingers around Gerard's throat finally tearing out a hoarse scream.

Gerard awoke in the morning surrounded by a mess of pillows he messed up through thrashing about in his bed. Sweat coated his body in a sheen and his fingers were digging so harshly into the covers that he nearly tore into them from the force of his grip. Panting harshly, he felt his thundering heartbeat throughout his entire body, felt the rawness in his throat as though he'd been screaming out the way he had in a nightmare. He'd never been more relieved to find himself safe in bed, albeit one that didn't exactly belong to him, but it was anything but what his brain conjured up in sleep at the very least. His novel freshly plucked from the library was resting open and discarded on the bed. Gerard sagged against the pillows and gave himself some time to catch his breath, shaking away the vivid pictures still invading his memory.

"Is this the price I'll have to pay writing a horror novel?" Gerard croaked. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking sleep away. He supposed he'd adjust in time. His mind was overrun by multiple harrowing scenarios for his book, not to mention the novel he read before he slept, he was practically asking for night terrors.

Gerard sighed deeply, swinging his legs over the side of bed, and rubbed his hands over his face. His visit to the Boulet manor was bound to be an interesting one indeed.

--

"Good morning to you, Mr. Way." Odette bowed her head respectfully as Gerard entered the foyer, still adjusting the stubbornly crooked neck of his neatly pressed and buttoned shirt.

"Good morning, Miss Walsh!" Gerard brightened to see a familiar face.

"I trust you slept well?" Odette asked.

"As well as possible, aside from a rather strange dream." Gerard cast his gaze down for a second as a sheepish chuckle passed through his smiling lips. "My imagination got the better of me and conjured up a most unpleasant dream."

"Good thing nightmares mostly exist in sleep and you'll rarely find them in your conscious state. I was just headed out to bring some fresh eggs from the marketplace, we seem to be running low. Would you care to join me?" Odette nestled a hat embellished in feathers and bows on top of her yellow hair held up to expose the long expanse of her neck only partially covered by the neckline of her dress.

"It wouldn't be rude of me to suddenly vanish?" Gerard apprehensively glanced around. 

"I've told Danielle I'd be inviting you to join me. Come, you seem a bit pale. A bit of fresh air will do the trick."

Gerard accepted Odette's invitation. They piled into the carriage and were sent off into town, relishing a golden morning gleaming down on London and giving it a less foreboding atmosphere. They arrived at the marketplace in a nick of time, the peak hour of the morning where the freshest materials were laid out to be purchased.

"We have shipments of the more ripe and organic items that come in from the farmers working in different areas." Odette filled in as the footman, Ray, clasped her hand to help her down from the carriage carefully.

"I suggest purchasing some of the jams today, Miss Walsh, it's Saturday." Ray recommended with a beam Odette returned by double.

"You've set me up for an hour-long visitation, Ray, you know I can't resist a good boysenberry jam." Odette straightened out a sole wrinkle in her gown and glanced around the bustling market, slipping a few shillings into Ray's palm. "Grab yourself something, good man, I'm certain Danielle wouldn't mind me sharing."

Ray gratefully bowed his head and took off in the opposite direction. Gerard joined Odette at her side as they began to stroll towards the marketplace.

"You'd like the marketplace in New York. We have so many different products, I always think the place runs on for acres for how massive it all is." Gerard appreciatively raved about his home and its perks.

"A marketplace in London isn't so different, as you'll come to see." Odette's lips curved in a smile. "Have you visited here before?"

"Afraid not. I've set off on many expeditions, but this is my first visit to this region."

"It's dreary. Clouds tend to gather and leak here, it can be quite foul in the town square." Odette was blunt with her observations.  "But you can't deny the charms this place has. You can find yourself enchanted by the beauty and the ugliness of our home."

"They do say there's no place like London."

"They'd be right, whoever those people are." Odette chuckled gleefully. "I'm not sure if you've heard the rumors or if they only exist within our borders, but people tend to ramble about the hauntings here."

Intrigue gathered all of Gerard's attention and steered it away from new sights he was being exposed to. "Hauntings?"

"Ghosts. If you truly believe in them. Supposedly, many houses and buildings here are ridden with them. People here are believers in all things morbid and unnatural, it's no surprise some are driven towards insanity." Odette spoke so nonchalantly, though Gerard supposed it was an ordinary topic for her since she'd been listening to the circulating rumors the entire time she resided in London.

"I haven't heard about this at all." Gerard's eyes traveled along each towering building surrounding them as he pondered their probability of being overtaken by shadows. "Do you suppose someday I could hear about it all? I think it would serve as great inspiration for my novel."

"And a good reason for your unpleasant dreams to return." Odette tittered. She glanced around and brightened as her eyes fell upon a booth in the distance. "Perhaps. Let's grab some boysenberry jam quickly. Being scolded by Danielle is an awfully unfavorable experience."

Once all items were acquired, they returned to the manor where Danielle and Blair awaited them, lending helping hands to the staff setting up for breakfast. Danielle's gaze caught on the armful of groceries Odette hauled in and a sigh escaped her.

"Remind me to send Emily out to the market next time." Danielle laid a pressed napkin onto the table. Her disapproving tone didn't match her hint of a smile, which in turn made Gerard keep a smile of his own hidden.

"Oh, apricot jam." Blair brightened for the first time since Gerard had seen her. "You find the best gems at the market, Odette."

"I know Danielle has an affinity for boysenberry jam the way I do, so I grabbed that along with anything that caught my eye." Odette beamed.

"Very well. Thank you for the goods, this should be a lovely addition for the table." Danielle collected a sealed jar from Odette's arms, hardly able to contain her delight. "Let's all sit down now that everyone has returned. I'm famished."

As they fell into place at the table, Gerard couldn't help but notice the absence of the younger member of the family, a single place setting left vacant as it had been since his arrival. Gerard had an inkling it wasn't all the younger one's doing, that he'd been instructed to keep his distance until the presence of a stranger vanished from the property. Gerard understood, finding he'd likely advise his children to keep away from strangers, it was a standard rule to teach youths. Gerard knew he was harmless, but others did not.

There was another empty setting right beside the first. Gerard realized with a sinking feeling it must've been reserved for the late Jessamine. He wondered if they kept her spot untouched by life in hopes that she would one day appear to take her seat, cheerfully joining in on the table conversation as though not a day had passed where they all felt her absence in every second of quiet. Grieving works in many ways, some seeming odd to others, but no matter how unorthodox some methods appeared, it soothed the heart– strangely so.

"Our young one tends to become antisocial whenever we have visitors." Danielle piped in, noticing the way Gerard's eyes were trained to the empty seats.

Gerard lifted his head, a bit embarrassed to have been caught drifting off into his head. "My curiosities cannot be masked even if I remain silent, can they?"

"It's fine to be curious, Mr. Way." Danielle spread a layer of jam over a slice of lightly toasted bread taken from the platter passed down to her. "I overhead you've been told about the story of our Jessamine as well. If you're wondering, yes, the second seat belongs to her."

Gerard's hand curled around his fork froze in the midst of stabbing into a pile of scrambled eggs. In the small moment of stillness, even Blair and Odette seemed shocked  the subject was being brought up voluntarily.

"Ah...yes, I was told. I don't suppose every detail was given, but it was enough to know the reason why she isn't here with us today." Gerard apprehensively looked between the women at the table.

Pensively, perhaps a touch sorrowfully, Danielle tugged her cup of coffee forward to cradle it between her hands, rings clinking gently against the porcelain. "I happened to be passing by the library in the night when I heard a few key words. It's fine for you to know about it, Mr. Way, I assure you. Either way, you'd hear of her, perhaps imagine you've heard her voice in the night."

"Words like that can frighten our guest, Danielle." Blair sighed.

"We all imagine we do." Danielle's spoon scraped against the bottom of her cup as she stirred. "She can never truly leave because she will never be forgotten as long as we all are alive. It's why her portrait hangs in her library and why her seat will never be taken."

"My condolences. I know your loss isn't so recent, but I reckon it feels as such. She was close to you." Gerard wasn't capable of articulating just how saddened he was since he learned about the passing of someone so young and loved. There were some words running through his mind he couldn't say out loud or they'd cause Danielle to sink further into her sadness.

"Jessamine was the bell of the ball. A spotlight followed her wherever she went, as though she was made to be a star." Blair exhaled shakily as her gaze fell into her lap. "Now, she cannot take the stage and make it her own. She exists as the star of our dreams instead."

"Well said." Odette whispered. "We've grieved and healed in our own way, haven't we, girls? Thank you for your sympathy, Mr. Way, but I'd much prefer it if we don't turn her memory into one that makes us weep."

"Jessamine would've hated for anyone to cry at the thought of her." Danielle grasped her napkin neatly folded in her lap. "You would've liked to meet her, Gerard. And her you. She admired artists of all kinds."

Gerard smiled faintly, resuming his meal along with the rest. When breakfast was over and Gerard lent a hand while cleaning up the mess, he took off to the manor's study room, passing the stairs and the corridors he was certainly meant to take. A chilled wind passed over his back just before he turned into the hall leading to the study. A faint chuckle whispered in the air, causing him to whip around and search his surroundings with wide eyes, only to find emptiness. He stayed still for a long moment to detect any movement, but none came, and the frigid wind dissipated almost as soon as it came.

Gerard shook it off as his wild imagination and continued to enter the study, but he couldn't help but notice the candles in the wall were all wiped clean of their flame, curls of smoke ascending into the air as fresh as when someone had just put out the fire. 

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Don't worry, you're getting a chance to meet Frank the next chapter, i'm just setting up the atmosphere and some mysterious important points before we dive into that part. I hope you guys are liking it so far!

Any questions, theories, musings, comments, i'm here for them, don't hesitate to drop them! You know I love comments and I'll be happy to interact more with you!

-rosexo