JAMES FLIPPED THROUGH the various missives. He discarded all the soiree invitations haphazardly into a pile. Martin would see to them later. He answered a few inquiries from his acquaintances at Eton asking if they would expect him to arrive in time for the season. James wrote a few sentences, pointing out their tomfoolery—it wasn't as though Prinny would accept his retreat to the country instead of Parliament.

Sighing, utterly bored of the various invitations and requests, James wondered for the fourth time today about the happenings upstairs.

He knew the girl, Vivienne—was her name, seemed to be healing remarkable well according to his housekeeper. He'd done his best to stay away. There were times where he'd been tempted to slide the door open and see those hauntingly green eyes, but he had refrained. It was beneath him to be visiting a chit and he had more important matters to tend to—like the proposals of new farming systems to increase crop yields in his country estates, thereby increasing his wealth. 

There was a knock on the door and James yelled, "Come in."

Martin, his butler stood on the other side holding a stack of papers. "This just arrive this morning, Your Grace. The messenger said it was of utmost importance."

James rubbed his temple absentmindedly—almost all the missive he received were always of 'utmost importance.'

"Very well, give them to me."

Martin dropped the papers onto the desk.

James gestured towards the pile of invitations, "Dispose of those for me, will you?"

"Of course, Your Grace." He bowed once before leaving the study.

James picked up the first document and read through the first line. His eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he continued reading the first page. As he made his way to the end of the document, his heart began pounding widely. It just couldn't be possible. The document had to have been forged.

"Martin!"

His butler scurried through the room once more, still holding the soirée invitations. "Prepare my horse, I must leave for London at once."

His butler only bowed, "I will inform the stablemaster at once."

James grabbed the document he had just finished reading and made his way to the manor entrance. Only he was stopped by his housekeeper.

"I was just coming to see you, Your Grace."

"Speak in haste, I am leaving for London," James said as he continued walking. Mrs. Shrine scurried to keep up with him.

"Right now?"

James paused for a moment, cocked his right eyebrow before looking—more like looming over her, "Yes right now. Is there something you wish to discuss?" he asked, impatiently.

Mrs. Shrine opened her mouth then closed it before opening it again. "It's just that Vivienne is doing better now, what should we do with her?"

James hadn't thought that far ahead when he kept the girl under his roof. In those moments, all that mattered was her health, and the fact that she might live. If the words she muttered were true, he knew that she was running away from something, and it wasn't safe for her outside.

"Offer her a position as a member of my household."

"Which position would you like her to take?"

James shrugged while Martin helped him with his coat before passing him his hat. "It is up to your discretion Mrs. Shrine. I am sure that you will find a suitable place for her."

James was halfway out the door before Mrs. Shrine's words hit his ears.

"What about wages and lodging?"

He looked back at the plump women. "I am sure that is also something that can handled by you, after all there is a reason as to why I employee you, correct?"

James saw her skin deepen a few shades, but he ignored it and mounted the horse that awaited him. He needed to get to London, as fast as possible.

***

Vivienne watched as the horse galloped away from the path until it became smaller and smaller. She'd seen the duke rushing out of his estate and that was the first glimpse of him she had in days. In the earlier days of her recovery, she hoped that he would visit her, but he stayed away for the most part. Sometimes, in the night, she thought she heard his footsteps linger in front of her door before they would retreat down the hall to where is bedchamber lay. She didn't know why she wanted to see him—but there was something alluring about him.

A knock broke her from her thoughts, and she watched Mrs. Shrine enter the chamber. The housekeeper's face was neutral, and Vivienne's heart sank.

"His Grace would like for me to leave, wouldn't he?" She was not welcome in the house anymore. She would have to leave, and travel to where, she did not know.

Mrs. Shrine raised her hands, "No dear. He has offered you a spot in his household instead. Naturally, you will be given a wage and a room in the servants quarters."

Vivienne didn't say anything, yet she continued looking at the kind women who had kept her company the last few days. She was utterly certain that it had not been the duke who offered a position but the housekeeper.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Although Vivienne did not have any experience being a maid, she was sure that she could learn. She would almost do anything as long as it meant that she got to stay under a roof in which she felt relatively safe and cared for.

Mrs. Shrine smiled at her. "Come along then, I'll show you your new room, and then you can get settled in before beginning the tasks."

Vivienne followed her out the door, taking one last look at the room she'd been residing in for the past week. She shut the door firmly behind her. To survive, she would need to be adapt and if it meant being a servant in the duke's house, she would do it.

***

The servant's quarters were much shabbier than her previous chamber, but Vivienne didn't mind. Her cot was comfortable enough—it was much better than the stables and hard ground she'd slept on the last few weeks.

She had changed into a more sensible gown, which another maid had lent her. It had a few holes in places but it would do, for now. Later on, she would need to purchase a few more gowns after she was paid her wages.

She was currently airing out the drawing room as well as removing dust that had gathered on the antiques around the room. Mrs. Shrine had placed her with another maid, Chrissy who did not speak much but continued scowling periodically at Vivienne. It made her uncomfortable, but Vivienne was scared to say anything that would result in her being sacked.

Continuing to wipe down the desk, Vivienne spun around, and her foot caught on the edge of the settee causing her to lose her balance.

"Ahh," she screamed. At the last moment, she tried gripping the table to prevent the fall and instead, her fingers grasped the porcelain vase and it came tumbling down with her. The sound of glass shattering into tiny pieces filled her ear.

"You fool!"

Vivienne looked up to see Chrissy staring down at her in horror. "What have you done!"

Vivienne opened her mouth and then closed it. Everything had happened so fast—she was fine one moment and then she wasn't. She glanced around on the floor beside her to see shards of glass everywhere. Thankfully, she didn't think any had sept into her skin, but she wasn't sure.

"His Grace will be furious!" Chrissy continued, her anger causing her skin to turn a bright red. "What was Mrs. Shrine thinking letting you work here?"

Just as Chrissy finished speaking, the door of the drawing room was populated by Mrs. Shrine and a couple of other servants whom Vivienne did not know.

Mrs. Shrine's eyes zoomed in on Vivienne, she knew she was going to be sacked now.

"Are you alright?"

Vivienne realized the question was addressed to her. "I believe so," she said, fighting back the tremble in her voice.

Mrs. Shrine began commanding the others on what to do but Vivienne was not paying attention. She'd done it now; the duke would have her hung or demand payment for what she'd broken.

"Oh lordy, she's going to swoon."

The voice cut through the fog her mind was in and her gaze snapped towards Chrissy. "I am not going to swoon."

Before Chrissy could respond Mrs. Shrine cut in, "Let's help you up dear."

Vivienne carefully stood up with assistance from the housekeeper before she was led back to the servant's quarters. Mrs. Shrine examined her foot for cuts and Vivienne nearly flinched at the contact before reminding herself to stay still. Her fingers clutched the pendent beneath her dress tightly. It gave her some comfort and reminded her of home.

"Remarkable," she muttered, her eyes glancing up to Vivienne. "You see to be perfectly healthy."

Vivienne gave her a weak smile, "That is excellent news. May I return back to my work?"

Mrs. Shrine looked at her for a few seconds. "Mayhap it is my fault, it might be better to rest today dear."

Vivienne shook her head, she needed something to do, to keep her busy from the nightmares that plagued her at night. "I am feeling quite perky, please let me return."

"Very well then," Mrs. Shrine winced. "It might be better for you to help the cook instead of returning to the drawing room."

"Will His Grace relive me of my duties?"

The housekeeper's face was not consoling. "I'm not sure," she replied. "The duke is in London, a decision will not be made until he returns. Till then, you can assist the cook."

Vivienne nodded and went to the kitchen hoping for better results than the drawing room. In the end, she fled the kitchen nearly in tears as the cook rambled on about her incompetence in rapid French. Mrs. Shrine told her to assist the gardener next and it did not go much better. She accidently cut one of the stems of the rosebush earning her relieve from the estate grounds. She tried to give it her all in everything, but it seemed like she was a failure at it all. When nighttime came, she stuffed her mouth with the sheets in order to hide the sound of her crying—it seemed like she was going to be in the streets quite sooner than she thought. 

***

James stepped down from his horse and quickly walked towards the shabby building. He rarely visited the slums—especially Almonry. There were thieves, whores, and dozens of other illegal transactions taking place here. It was very unbefitting of a duke, but the papers tucked beneath his arms currently held more weight and worry than this place. James could feel the eyes on him as he slipped into the building. He knew his fine clothes drew a target on his back—he would need to be on alert when he left.

The interior of the building was not better than the exterior. Paint was chipping on the walls and it looked as though the structure could crumble at any moment. He approached the desk, where a man sat in a shabby coat and hat.

"What can I do for yer?"

James eyed his shoes, which were currently resting on the desk. Immediately the man dropped them down.

"I'm looking for Mr. Baldwin."

The man's eyes let up with recognition before they narrowed. "What do you want with him?"

"That," James said icily, "is solely my business."

The man looked at him for a moment before he turned around and shouted, "Oh Baldwin, there's some fancy chap asking for yer."

There was a slight cough before a thin man emerged from the darkness wearing rimmed frames. He was not at all what James expected. The man's eyes widened as they took in James appearance.

"The Duke of Lennox, I presume?"

James nodded and help up the papers in my hand, "Now would you bloody tell me why these papers say that I'm betrothed?"

---------------

Poor Vivienne, she's terrified of being back on the streets. Will James be kind enough to let her stay? Please vote and comment if you are enjoying the story!