"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE JOKING," Lord Oscar Seymour hissed, frustration ebbing away at him like a dazed woodpecker. "At the rate you're offering bribes, Jack, we'll be paying a visit to a constable's before we locate your cousin." 

It was morning, and the sun had just risen, though it was no where in sight. The sky was damp in blue, and the snow on the ground and on the multiple rooftops of buildings was a stark shade of blue over the white. 

Portsmouth had welcomed Lord Seymour and Lord Beresford with the promise of a challenge. Getting through the city so far had gotten them stopped twice by rioting men refusing to clear the path ahead to let their vehicle pass. And every time Oscar had ventured to jump off their sledge and attempt to give the bickering workers a piece of his mind, Jack had sprinted ahead with pounds flapping in his hands like minuscule flags. It was Christmas, and the chaos in Portsmouth was unbelievable. Transportation strikes, crowds of protesting workers, shops and outlets banned shut for business— it was as if people couldn't care less what date the calendar sported. 

Lord Jack Beresford tugged at the cravat at his neck hard as he jumped back into the passenger's in the sledge. He rapped harder on the roof, an order for the driver to proceed. The stubborn crowd gathered up ahead dispersed reluctantly as the the reins were yanked and the sledge trudged forwards, crushing through the thick blanket of snow on the ground. 

"If you've got other rational ideas, pray don't keep them to yourself," Jack let out, his steel gaze fixed outside. 

Oscar let out a sigh, both his hands running through his mop of hair. With a start he realized the absence of his top hat, and finding it beside him on the seat, snatched it and topped it on his head swiftly. 

"We're almost at the address," He spoke after a while, his eyes observing his tense friend. "We're close. All this will be over soon." 

Jack let out a harsh scoff. His hard eyes turning to meet Oscar's. 

"You think it will be that easy, do you? Who's to say Aramina's really there? Who's to say we're not on a fucking goose chase being mislead while my cousin suffers elsewhere?" He shouted, the strain making bulging veins in his neck visible. "There's a rector's daughter pretending to her at Wycombe like this is all some sick game that everyone else is benefitting off of except me and my family." 

"Do you suggest my cousin is deliberately misleading us?" Oscar raised his voice, the very idea of the belief atrociously infuriating. "She's helping us when she doesn't have to. Diana does not even know Lady Embry, yet she goes out of her way to secure for us a possible address. Miss Churchill has been selflessly making sure your mother doesn't suffer with the knowledge of her niece's disappearance. Lord Buxton is keeping track of the little transportation that is going out of the city. Neither of them know your cousin. And me? For God's sake man, I have ditched everything of my life in Southampton to aid you. And you believe we're benefitting off of all this?" 

Jack looked away, eyes red and palms curled into tight fists that made his knuckles white. 

"You're right," He spoke after a pause, voice low and defeated. "You're right. I apologize." 

Oscar looked away too, no longer possessing the immediate will to converse with his friend when he was in such of state of denial. It was understandable, this condition of his. People forgot easily that they have aid when they are in the thick of trouble. It's easy to belief you're alone when you're not. 

Thankfully, without any more stops, the sledge came to a halt. Jack and Oscar tumbled out, their recent scrimmage forgotten in the wake of the possibility of their mutual goals. Before them stood a rundown abandoned building. Oscar could tell from the edges of darkened wood that the place had been victim to an old fire. Snow had piled into every open crevice and dark broken window sills and askew roofs. Remnants of old battered storage wooden boxes littered the place. 

Jack sprinted then, as though he hadn't much mind or strength for observation. He leapt inside, aggressively pushing past the door stuck thick in what seemed like a feet of snow. Oscar quickly followed him. 

"Aramina!" Jack's voice was loud, desperate, as he pounded up a creaky broken wooden staircase, his boots unforgiving. 

Oscar burst through the doors on the ground floor of the building. Checking each space and finding nothing but battered storage. "Lady Embry!" 

Hearing Jack's repeated shouts overhead, and his own search getting fruitless by the second. It dawned on him that this wasn't really over yet. Somehow, Oscar had supposed that this address was it. His mind had convinced him that coming here would make everything right, that Lady Embry would be found and then they would be headed back to Wycombe. He could make sure then that Miss Churchill was brought out of the situation she was currently in. His thoughts on this journey had often trailed back to her. Questions of how she was doing, how she was holding up amidst Lady Acacia Beresford's depraved loss and expectations— or whether Miss Churchill had been able to convince Jack's mother. It never really dawned on Oscar how brave the rector's daughter was. How brave does one have to be to give up everything of themselves for someone else even for a day? 

"No!" Jack's yell yanked Oscar out of his thoughts, "She's not here, she's not here." 

His footsteps pounding down the rickety stairs followed soon after. Oscar met him at the bottom, with no consolations lined up. 

"She's not here," Jack let out, his voice now hoarse and tainted with defeat. "He fucking took her elsewhere. He must've known we were searching. I found some rope, but maybe she wasn't here in the first place? Maybe—" 

"No," Oscar managed, his eyes catching onto a twinkle of red in the snow outside the door. He rushed towards it, bending down and finding a ruby earring. He brushed off the white with his fingers and lifted the dainty piece of jewellery for his friend to see. "She was here." 

It matched the earring they had found on Wycombe grounds the day Lady Embry disappeared, it belonged to her alright. 

"It means we're close," Oscar looked at his friend, confining him with his gaze. "Alright? we're on the trail. We're close and we will find her."

Jack took the earring in his hand, fingers wrapping around it. 

"It wasn't buried deep in the snow," Oscar's thoughts rushed, grasping at any idea he could find. "Which means it was dropped recently. Definitely in the night." 

Jack looked at him, a fierce hope surging in his eyes. "Are you sure?" 

"I've never been more sure." 

"Then it means she's still in the city, and couldn't be much farther from here," Jack looked around outside. The street was bustling with morning activity. Loud conversations carrying on with the wind. Despite the strikes, it was Christmas, and people weren't going to hide themselves away on such a day. 

"But where do we look? We have no other address belonging to that coward, and by the time the two of us look, he could very well relocate someplace else."

"We need more men on the search," Oscar crossed his arms. 

"No," Jack spun towards him, "We talked about this before, Oscar, I will not involve the goddamned police in this. Cranmer's a lunatic, there's no knowing what he'll do." 

"I didn't mean the police," Oscar's irises bore into his friend's, "I meant Lord Buxton. We need an extensive search, and my cousin's husband has men he can employ for us. We act efficiently, and that bastard has no time to relocate." 

Jack nodded. Oscar grabbed his friend's shoulder in consolation. "Now, get into the sledge. We're going to Berkshire Abbey." 

༺♥༻

"Oh god, Oscar," Lady Diana Buxton announced upon Oscar Seymour's entry into the west drawing room of Berkshire Abbey followed by the footfalls of Jack Beresford. 

The Abbey was much less a stone than it was an entire crown, lavishly decorated as though meant to be a display of the wealth of the family it belonged to— which would not be entirely false, for Oscar knew his cousin had penchant for design and decoration. Tapestries gilded with the works of hands, doubtless, from over oceans, adorned the walls. Furniture painted gold perfectly placed in rooms like jewels scattered purposefully, glinting subtly against the polished hardwood floors of the Abbey. It was a stark contrast to the entire mood of Oscar and Jack's journey. It felt like being plucked from someplace and thrust into someplace else entirely. 

Oscar believed if he could just shut his eyes, he could convince himself that the nightmare he had followed his friend into wasn't real. It was cruel how estates and riches could blind you with no effort if you let them. 

"It is absolutely terrible," The lady gushed, a frown on her lips and a hand on her heart as she rushed to greet her cousin. "I have been gripped by such worry since your letter. Has your search so far proved fruitful?" 

Lord Jack Beresford flinched slightly at the question, his eyes on the ground, not yet ready to face a sudden hostess in the circumstances of his cousin's misfortune. 

"It has, and it hasn't," Oscar managed under the thick attention of the lady. "We have come to seek Lord Buxton's aid. Is he home?" 

"He is, dear cousin, and he will be glad to be of any more help," Lady Buxton smiled, then swiftly motioning for a footman, she dictated the summons for her husband and waved the footman away.
"Meanwhile, I'm sure you'd like to introduce me to Lord Beresford." She offered Jack a smile, as he, quickly straightened himself under the newfound attention. 

"Ah yes," Oscar spoke awkwardly, having quite forgotten his cousin's quick notice of such things, "Allow me to introduce my friend, Lord Beresford." Then he turned to look at Jack. "Jack, this is my cousin Lady Diana Buxton." 

"A pleasure, Lord Beresford," Lady Buxton beamed, a curtsey punctuating her declaration. 

"Likewise, my lady," Jack offered in return, dipping his head briefly. 

On cue then, Lord Buxton's footfalls echoed in their periphery, and the gentleman then swiftly approached. 

"Oscar," Lord Buxton let out, taking his place by his wife's side, a right hand sneaking around her waist as a left motioned for Oscar and his friend to seat themselves on the sofas. 

"This must be Lord Beresford," The lord of the house continued acknowledging Jack, as he guided his wife and seated next to her, opposite their guests. 

"Indeed," Jack managed, "A pleasure to meet you, Lord Buxton, in wake of the aid you and your wife have offered us." 

Lord Edward Buxton let loose a small smile. "I think the praise will be due once Lady Embry has been found. Nay, I shall be expecting it." 

"She will be found," Lady Buxton repeated, her eyes on Lord Beresford in earnest. It wasn't much, but Oscar was grateful for the consolation, for the heavens knew his friend needed all of those that he could get. 

"We went to that address you sent us," Oscar started, hands clasped together with his elbows on his knees. "But we were much late. Lady Embry had been there, and she was removed in the night. We're sure of it." 

"Then they couldn't have taken her much far," Lord Buxton added firmly, "If they removed the lady in the night, then they do their relocation during the few hours of the night. Its risky to be transporting a captive amidst the chaos on the streets during the day and most of the nights too." 

Oscar saw Jack flinch slightly at the word, captive. He turned to face Lord Buxton again. 

"Be that as it may," He spoke after a pause, "We need men to search as much of the area of that part of the city as possible." 

"Then men you'll have," The lord of the house declared, "I'll have my men started on the task immediately." He stood up and looked to Jack. 

"Beresford, you come with me. I'll need my men to know general details of the lady they are to spot and anything of visible significance about her captor that you can divulge to them." 

Jack instantly nodded, getting up. Oscar followed suit, only to be instantaneously addressed by his cousin. 

"Oscar, you stay," Lady Buxton asserted with a flick of her wrist. "We will converse." 

With a glance towards the retreating figures of his friend and Lord Buxton, Oscar scoffed. "I have no time for conversation, Diana. There is a life at stake." 

"And what is your plan, might I ask?" She commented with a raised brow, "Have you arranged for yourself a solitary gallivant in the city with no leads at present while my husband and Lord Beresford engage several men for the same task? I'm sure you've not gotten as stupid in the time we've not seen eachother as that might imply." 

Oscar looked at her in disbelief. It seemed to him that neither of them had changed in the time they've not seen eachother. He plunged back onto the sofa with an audible huff. 

"Bring some tea please," He heard her quietly speak to a maid who had appeared by her side, "Chamomile for me, and green for Lord Seymour." 

Oscar looked at his cousin in more disbelief as the maid scurried away with her orders. 

"What?" Diana inquired obliviously, "Green will calm you. Your tension is radiating off of you and it is bound to upset your friend. You want to be supportive, not problematic." 

"Diana," Oscar emphasized, letting his displeasure clearly show, "I have no time for tea." 

"Of course you do," She brushed his concern off, "Tea helps. I bet your Lady Embry is probably having a good cup of tea herself after being rescued by a charming gentleman. Now, wouldn't that be something?" 

"This is no occasion for jests," He let out, a hand snaking through his hair in frustration, "You have no idea what it's been like." 

"I think I do have an idea," Lady Diana Buxton countered, "You forget cousin, I've been in a similar situation myself in the past. I do know what it means to be torn away from the people you love. At present, I'm concerned about you, because from all you've told me about the Lady Embry in your letters, I believe she is handling herself with more strength than you or Lord Beresford give her credit for. I'm concerned about you because you are putting pressure on yourself as a result of this." 

Oscar remained silent. He had no words to defend his anxiety. Diana didn't press him more, both of them seated in quiet silence until the maid scurried in with a silver tray with tea and refreshments.

"How is Jessie?" Diana asked quietly, handing Oscar his cup of tea. He wrapped his fingers around the steaming cup, frustrated at himself for finding comfort in tea despite his will. 

"I would ask her, but you must know I can't write to her anymore considering the ploy you have put her in," She continued, "Which is why I ask you." 

"She's—" Oscar started, his line of thought going slack at the mention of Jessie Churchill. "Fine, I suppose." 

Lady Buxton let out a mock chuckle. "Of course she's fine. She pretending to be someone else and is around people she doesn't even know. She definitely hasn't seen her father in a while since he thinks she's with you and he'd rather read his sermons in french then bring himself to interrupt his daughter's perfect Christmas." 

"She's fine, Diana," Oscar burst out in frustration, "You can't be that oblivious to the fact that the life Miss Churchill is living at present is infinitely better to the life she has always lived. There's no annoying father, definitely no Victor Colston." 

"You can't assume that Oscar!" Diana cried, before a look of confusion crossed her face, "Who is Victor Colston?" 

A wealthy man of eight and forty deemed by my mother a perfect match for Miss Churchill, he thought flatly.  

"Nobody," He voiced out loud as he sipped his tea, "He's nobody." 

His cousin diverted her attention to the refreshments. Putting aside two biscuits and a piece of cake on a porcelain plate and putting it in front of Oscar. 

"Did you at least wish her a happy Christmas?" Diana asked after a pause, peering hopefully at Oscar, but the hope vanquished in her eyes before he even replied. "You didn't, did you?" 

"I'm sure a ton of people did," He stated with a shrug, "She's an heiress now, isn't she?" 

"Oscar," Diana huffed, putting her cup of tea down with a clatter on the glass table. "You get on my nerves!" 

"Jessie deserves a proper Christmas wish from you. She's helping you isn't she? She is doing her part against all odds. So what is stopping you from showing some human gratitude?" 

Then, she turned and motioned towards a footman, who came hurrying towards her. "Fetch Lord Seymour parchment and ink, he's going to write a letter." 

"I am?" Oscar straightened in confusion as the footman hastened off. 

"You are," Diana confirmed firmly. "You aren't going anywhere until Lady Embry is found. You're going to tell Jessie everything you've been up to, she deserves to know how far into this investigation you've gotten. You're going to ask her how she has been doing, and most of all, you, my dear cousin, are going to wish Jessie Churchill a happy Christmas." 

Oscar looked at her, narrowing his eyes. "You can't make me." 

"I can, and I will. I am here to help if you get stuck, so don't hesitate to ask for any help." A sly smile played on her lips as she took a bite of cake. 

Half an hour later, Lord Oscar Seymour sat on a writing desk, fresh parchment glaring dauntingly at him and an intimidating pot of ink sporting a quill to his right. Feeling his cousin hovering behind him, he grabbed the quill and forced himself to get the job done and over with to rid himself of Diana's scrutiny. It was ridiculous how he managed find himself in such a situation. He could only be grateful Jack wasn't here to witness this stupidity. While his cousin was at the mercy of a lunatic, Oscar was here having tea and cake and being manipulated by his own cousin to write a letter. 

"I hope you're addressing the letter to Lady Aramina Embry on the envelope," Diana called after a while, when Oscar had managed only to have gotten through the addressing. 

"Of course I am," He hurriedly spoke, "What do you take me for?" 

Then with a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Diana was not as close by as to peer, he scratched To Miss Churchill out and crumpled up the envelope, whipping out a new one from the desk drawer. 

After an hour of Diana's constant interruptions and suggestions on everything he should include, Oscar had a final draft ready. He made sure it was as brief as brief could be and he intended to instantly wrap it up and have it sent on its way and pretend it didn't exist and the last hour hadn't happened. So he did exactly that. 

'Miss Jessie Churchill, 

I hope this letter finds you well. Lord Beresford and I are, as you may already be aware, in Portsmouth. Our investigation has led us to seek aid from my cousin's husband, Lord Edward Buxton. I believe we are closer to discovering the whereabouts of Lady Embry as ever. I am keeping my arrival a secret from my sister— for as you may also know she is currently in Portsmouth with her husband, visiting some of Mr Ashton's family for Christmas. Speaking of which, I hope you had a good Christmas. My cousin Diana sends her warmest regards. I wish to be updated on the situation at Wycombe. Have you had the pleasure of meeting Jack's mother, the Lady Beresford yet? I hope nothing is amiss and you are comfortable with your current situation, as strange as that may sound considering the circumstances. 

Good day,
Oscar Seymour.'