VIVIENNE LOOKED UP at Chalcott manor, and a sense of relief swept through her. After their grand adventure last night, she was happy to be home and safe. Martin opened the door in quite the state of shock before he morphed his face into a more serious one, "Welcome back Your Grace."

James nodded at the butler before gesturing back at her and Fiona. "As you can see Martin, we successfully located the ladies."

The two of them were wearing the same dresses from last night and they were in quite the terrible condition.

"Lady Vivienne, Lady Fiona, it's good to see that two of you are safe and relatively unharmed."

Vivienne felt a tinge of guilt, she could only imagine the anger James must have felt when the butler told them of their disappearance. "Our apologies for causing any trouble for you Martin."

The butler shook his head, "Nothing but your health matters, my lady."

Vivienne smiled at him, exhaustion clearly still lining her face. They barely took another step into the foyer when Lady Torrington came thundering forward—well as fast as she could with her walking stick.

"Good Heavens," Lady Torrington raised her hand to her chest. "You all look like you've been through quite the ordeal."

"It seems we have," James said tightly.

Lady Torrington's gaze landed on both her and Fiona and that's when Vivienne knew they were in for quite the scolding.

"What were the two of you thinking? Parading around town without a chaperone, you should be grateful that no harm came about you."

"It nearly did," Lord Headfort cut in, giving his sister a glare. "Thankfully, we were able to reach them in time."

Lady Torrington gasped and her face paled. She looked at the two of them with a tad more softness. "Are your virtues intact?"

Fiona and Vivienne shared a glance.

Lord Berkeley coughed, "I believe I shall take my leave. The tavern was not as luxurious as Chalcott manor. I'll eat breakfast in my room and take a nap if nobody needs me."

Lord Headfort followed his friend's lead, leaving James with the two of them. She shot James a pleading glance hoping that he would save them. He only shook his head, "Every action has its consequences. The two of you left without a care in the world and now you must face the consequences of your actions."

He climbed up the stairs without another glance backwards. Lady Torrington turned her grey eyes back onto them, "Now, what am I going to do with the two of you?"

***

Vivienne stretched in the bed and sighed. She felt much better after her bath and nap. Lady Torrington had given them a quarter of an hour lecture on how ladies should behave, before ushering them back into their rooms quietly, lest anyone else figure out about their adventure. The two of them were to be confined to the manor as a punishment, unable to go on the rest of the outings planned for the group. Vivienne didn't care much for it, but she'd seen the look of disappointment on Fiona's face. She didn't know how much Fiona got out in her brother's country home but based on her action, it didn't seem much.

Ginger meowed and jumped on the bed. Vivienne squeezed the cat tightly, "You missed me little one, didn't you?"

Ginger allowed Vivienne to pet her. A soft smile made its way onto Vivienne's face. They were safe and that is all that mattered.

While not everything the night before had been pleasant, she would store the memories of their enjoyment separately from what came after. A shiver coursed through her body as Vivienne tried blocking out the memories of the men pawing at her. James told her that they were going to be hung and she wasn't ashamed to be relieved upon hearing the news. No other ladies would have to suffer from their hands ever again.

There was light tap at her door, "come in." she called.

Ginger leaped from the bed as the door swung open, "shut it quickly," Vivienne commanded to Fiona as the cat narrowly escaped her room.

Ginger's eyes slanted as she gave her a hiss, "I'm sorry little one. Lady Torrington is already quite cross with us, I don't believe she will take it very lightly to see you roaming around. As soon as I'm free, I'll give you an outing you deserve."

The cat ignored her and began licking its paws. Vivienne took the time to inspect Fiona who looked much better. It seemed her friend had a bath and nap as well, but there was a look of melancholy etched on her face.

"What's wrong? I know Lady Torrington said we couldn't go on any of the remaining outings, but we can have just as much fun in the manor."

To her great alarm, Fiona burst into tears. Vivienne quickly leapt of the bed to console her friend, "It will be alright. We survived, and nobody found out."

Fiona gave a watery shake, her eyes still swollen with tears, "I'm not speaking of that. Cedric and I fought this morning at the tavern, and I foolishly revealed to him how much I care for him!"

Vivienne's face fell but she quickly schooled her features and guided her friend to the bed. "It can't be quite as bad as you claim," she handed her a handkerchief, "now, start from the beginning."

Fiona explained the words they had exchanged between tears.

"Oh dear," Vivienne said when she finished. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, not wanting to say anything rashly. "I'm sure it may seem like the end of the world but sometimes it seems gentlemen can be quite thick headed—even intelligent ones like Lord Berkeley."

Fiona gave a small laugh and Vivienne's heart warmed. If her friend could at least laugh, then she had done quite well. Turning more serious, Vivienne took Fiona's hands in hers. "You have two choices now, either you forget about him and move on, or you fight for him, tooth and nail, because you know he is yours."

"Oh Vivienne, how can I when my heart feels broken?"

Vivienne smiled slightly, "Take the time before London to recovery and plan your move when the season begins. He won't know your motives and it will take him by surprise. If you ever need help, I am here to assist you in whatever manner—even if it means kidnapping the viscount to knock some sense into his head."

Fiona pulled her into a hug, "You've been a dear friend to me, I wouldn't know what I would do without you."

Vivienne laughed the sound resonating in the room, "Well you are quite lucky you don't have to."

***

"I don't know what the bloody hell she was talking about in the tavern!" Berkeley said tugging his cravat in frustration.

James looked up from his papers and sighed. His usually calm-demeanour friend was no longer present. "I'm sure that someone as smart as you will figure it out in time."

"I don't have time!" Berkeley slammed the brandy glass back on the cart, "I'm heading back to London in a couple of days and I want whatever this business is between us to end. Headfort has already been asking me if things are quite alright between me and Fiona."

"And are they?"

"What in the devil do I know?" Berkeley ran his fingers through his blond hair, "She says that I don't care about her, not like she does but what does that even mean? Why do women always need to speak in poetry instead of just saying the truth."

James placed a thumb on his temple and rubbed his forehead, he really was going to have to spell it out for his friend, wasn't he?

Berkeley's gaze met James "Just tell me what she meant." He pleaded.

James gestured to the chair, "You might want to have a seat."

Berkeley reluctantly did as James instructed. "What she meant was that she cares more for you than a friend would."

Recognition filtered through Berkeley's mind before denial hit seconds later. "No," he stuttered, "that is not possible. When, I mean how, what about Headfort—"

James stood up and clapped his friend's shoulder. "I'll let you think about this. The truth will settle in soon enough, the signs are there Cedric, always have been. Sometimes there is just a veil hiding what is underneath our sight the entire time."

His friend didn't respond, and James knew he was mentally going through every interaction between Fiona and him. James just hoped he didn't drive himself insane in doing so. It wouldn't be good to question and try to decipher every move Fiona made in the past but there was nothing James could do to stop it now. It was up to Cedric and Fiona to sort it out between themselves, he had only leveled the playing field.

"James."

He spun around to see his great-aunt slowly coming down the stairs with her walking stick. In the last few weeks, she had been relying on it more often than not. James hadn't commented after asking her a couple of weeks ago if she needed to see a physician. His aunt had been affronted so he hadn't brought up the subject again, but once they settled in London, he might get a specialist to visit her.

"Aunt Esme, what are you doing coming down the stairs? Dinner isn't to be served for another hour."

"I know, I was trying to go to the servant's hall to tell them to bring up a plate for Fiona. Poor dear isn't feeling well, her face is all red and splotchy and I fear she might have caught a cold."

Or she had spent the time crying over Cedric but that didn't seem like the Fiona he knew—but then again, love often made fools of everyone.

"Why didn't you ring for them?"

"I knew they would be eating their dinner right now and I didn't want to disturb them."

James snorted and shook his head at the foolishness, "Aunt Esme, they are servants and are paid to do our bidding when we want them. It does not matter if it is an inconvenience to them."

His aunt looked at him, strangely. "Oh James, you have much to learn in managing a household. Satisfied servants mean a satisfied master."

James still didn't see the point his aunt was making but he could see her struggling down the stairs which pulled at his cold heart slightly. "Never mind you, I'll go tell the servants myself."

His aunt looked at him suspiciously, "Do you even know where the servant's quarters are?"

"I don't need to, you said they would be eating dinner. I'll just check in the kitchen."

Aunt Esme nodded, "Very well, I'm going to lie down a bit. All the excitement from this morning has me rather tired. You wouldn't believe the amount of gossip I had to shut down about Vivienne and Lady Fiona."

James didn't have to imagine. He knew the ladies loved to gossip, and in the county when nothing else was going on—even the smallest tidbit of information could spread like a house fire. He walked towards the kitchen briskly, he would quickly inform the servants and then dress in his evening coats. After leaving abruptly from dinner last night, he needed to ensure that nobody knew anything was amiss. There had already been a great number of questions from the guests in his household when they had seen him milling about. James had told them quite frankly; it wasn't their business about what he did with his time.

He could hear the voices of the servants as they chatted between their meals.

"I mean, she was looking like the rat she is when she came in with His Grace and his friends, what a hussy," a female voice said, "Mrs. Shrine, how much longer do I have to tend to her? It's clear she doesn't have any blue blood in her and His Grace only cares for her pretty looks."

James stopped in his tracks, it seemed like his servants were having quite the interesting conversation.

"Chrissy, I've told you to call her Lady Vivienne. And you will tend to her until His Grace finds a suitable lady's maid." Mrs. Shrine admonished.

"I ain't calling her no lady. She was dusting the drawing room, sleeping on a cot, and eating with us before being whisked away to a beautiful bedroom. You lot might forget her roots, but I shan't not." Chrissy said with venom in her voice.

"Well, that's a shame, isn't it?" James said smoothly as he came into the light. The servants gasped and stood in respect. James' gaze moved to Chrissy who looked quite pale. He then turned to his housekeeper and said softly, "I am quite disappointed that you allow such manor of speech towards the nobility in his household Mrs. Shrine."

Mrs. Shrine's skin turned beat root red. "Your Grace, Chrissy didn't mean what she was saying, the words came out in haste."

"I doubt that Mrs. Shrine," James said, keeping his voice low and dangerous. He didn't let them see how truly angry he was. "On the contrary, Chrissy meant every word she said towards Lady Vivienne, and by the lack of surprise on the others faces, this is a regular occurrence."

"Your Grace, I apologize for my words."

James ignored Chrissy and continued chatting with his housekeeper as if the maid wasn't there. "Shall you do the honours, or shall I?"

Mrs. Shrine didn't say anything, and James sighed. He didn't have time for this.

"Chrissy," he addressed the maid for the first time. "You have been dismissed, finish your meal and pack your bags. I want you gone before nightfall. Mrs. Shrine will give you no references, after all the words that came out of your mouth, I think we agree that you don't deserve and ounce of kindness, do you?" His eyes dared her to challenge him, but Chrissy was smart enough to keep her mouth shut.

James nodded his head once before his gaze met his valet's. "Hutton, I will be expecting you in five minutes upstairs to tend to me."

His valet nodded, "Yes Your Grace."

Without saying another word, James left the servants to their meal. Or rather, what was remaining of it.  

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

I think we can all agree that James made the correct decision and Chrissy deserve that, right?