Sedition Quotes

“He remembered wishing, not on that day but very soon after, that Everina might die. She was not a girl given to suppressing her appetites, and being Monsieur’s little goat meant, she made very clear, that the pleasures of his hand, and on occasion other parts of his person, were hers whenever required. How else might she learn all he could teach her? Within days, his wrists ached at the very thought of her.”
― Katharine Grant, Sedition

“When Alathea’s tongue was out, it mesmerised. In terms of years, it was still a novice. In terms of imagination and experiment, it was quite advanced. Before the age of thirteen she had worked out that the tongue – the physical tongue, that is, not the wordy tongue – was a woman’s unsuspected weapon, attracting and repelling, drawing in and excluding, and all without even touching an opponent – Alathea classified most people as opponents. She knew her tongue well and was getting to know it better. Servants like Sam were dull experimental subjects, though. Not like the hangman, the thought of whom made her smile. Her living flesh must have contrasted very warmly with the dead.”
― Katharine Grant, Sedition

“Her eyes were grey pools. Monsieur had never seen anything so grey. Even the pupils were grey, as though constant tears had washed all the colour out. ‘This instrument sings,’ he told her, ‘and tomorrow, little dove, when you are dressed more softly, it will sing for you.”
― Katharine Grant, Sedition

“Alathea Sawneyford was, as Mrs Frogmorton and Mrs Drigg often remarked, an astonishment. It was hard to pick out a single extraordinary characteristic. Her dark hair was remarkable only because it was cut short, and her skin, compared to Harriet’s and Georgiana’s, was sallow. Yet one thing was certain: men saw Alathea and wanted her, as men eating eggs want salt. In the eyes of Mrs Frogmorton and Mrs Drigg, this was a defect nothing could soften.”
― Katharine Grant, Sedition

“I believe the cognoscenti admire music by a man called Bach,’ Marianne said, stressing the Italian with a smug nod at Mrs Frogmorton and a slight simper for Monsieur.

‘They do,’ Monsieur agreed.

‘Does Mr Bach write for the pianoforte? Could he compose something specially for us?’

‘I doubt that.’ Monsieur Belladroit fanned his fingers.

‘Is a commission from us not important enough?’ Marianne was at her most superior. ‘If that’s so, I think Herr Bach overestimates himself.’

‘Herr Bach, good ladies, is dead, and has been for some time.”
― Katharine Grant, Sedition