THE NEW MORNING AT ROSENFIELD was much like the one yesterday when they had arrived— granted Jessie wasn't as exhausted as she had been before. The rest had managed to get rid of the tiredness of her limbs from being bent at a constant certain angle during their travel, though it had only increased the entropy of her mind. For a lady pondering over the contents of a certain letter wasn't much likely to get any peace of mind. 

There hadn't been much to ponder about, for the gentleman in question had been precise— when had he been otherwise? If there was one thing Jessie Churchill knew for sure about Oscar Seymour, it was that the man was precise. He said what he meant, and it had never been anything less at least where she and her father were concerned.  And i was his meaning that disturbed her most, for she was scared to misinterpret it, afraid that she would definitely humiliate herself if she did. So she had decided to not interpret it at all, and, because she was inclined to, ignore the interpretation her heart offered here entirely. 

According to her calculations, Oscar Seymour might arrive at Rosenfield that very day. Latest by nightfall and earliest by the afternoon. It wasn't as though she had spent hours coming to that conclusion— though she very much had, but her efforts had made her crave breakfast like she had never before. So after dressing for the day and having a maid do her hair, Jessie made her way downstairs to find that she had been a tad late.

The Lady Beresford sat at the head of dining table and Lady Acacia Beresford was seated to her left. The former squinting her eyes going over the correspondences she had received yesterday perhaps, or maybe early that morning— Jessie wasn't sure. And the latter sat grim-faced as though she had been made to wait while the footmen and maids placed all sorts of breakfast dishes on the table. 

All eyes turned upon Jessie when she entered, and she swiftly smiled, a slight head dip as she acknowledged Lady Acacia first and then beamed at Lady Embry's aunt. The old woman in turn smiled back, the seriousness of her features melting away as she looked at her niece. Jessie wondered at which point in this ruse had she gotten so confident. At which point had she stopped thinking about what other people were thinking when they looked at her? When she was Jessie Churchill, it had been so hard to do so. And now that she had to be Lady Aramina Embry, shouldn't confidence have been harder? Had she somehow found herself in Lady Embry? Found a part of her that she never knew existed? 

"Come dear," The Lady Beresford folded the letters and kept them aside as she gestured Jessie to take the seat to her right. "I was just going over yesterday's letters, and I believe we may have to brace ourselves. Jack wrote— which is surprising really how he managed to think of his old mother when he's out gallivanting God knows where. But he has written to inform me that his friend, and yours, it seems, is coming to pay us— or rather— you, a visit. A Lord Oscar Seymour. He doesn't say on how long this gentleman will stay. Pray tell me that he is just an acquaintance and not a suitor. I shall have to take arms alongside the Viscount then, because I have already chosen a side and I intend to stick by my choices." 

Jessie blushed, embarrassed as she felt the hotness surge into her cheeks. She quickly retrieved the piece of bread she had been reaching for. 

"No aunt," She managed, "Lord Seymour is just a friend." Was it true though? Could she call him a friend? Would he call her a friend? What was this strange communion they had found themselves in? 

"Hm," The Lady hummed, her lips twisted in consideration and her eyes peering in observation. "I sincerely hope the flush on your face is platonically introduced then. Though such a thing sounds as ridiculous as penguins flying over Bakewell in winter as thick as this one. And yes, I dare say I did actually hear that ridiculous thing. It was thrust upon me by a former acquaintance's lovely daughter. She was to be one and twenty that year. Needless to say, I cut off all my ties with that family. Which, of course is the gallant thing to do when one gets put in such situations." 

"Wouldn't you say so, Acacia?" The Lady Beresford turned to look at her silent daughter-in-law. "Though, not all ties can be so easily cut." She looked away with a humph. 

"Indeed they cannot," Lady Acacia agreed with a mock smile on her face as she looked at Jessie. Jessie dropped her gaze to her plate, willing herself immune to her presence. 

"On a positive note," The Lady of the house continued, taking a sip of her tea as she turned to Jessie again. "The Viscount Graham will be joining our small party shortly. He is to arrive today, he assured me that it would be early, in his letter. His mother, The Lady Graham is also to be accompanying him, a fact I wasn't aware of before. But it puts things quite into perspective I dare say. By the time he has to leave, you shall be betrothed I expect. That's such a comfort for my heart to know." 

Jesse choked on a sip of tea as it seemingly went down the wrong pipe. 

"What is it?" The Lady Beresford looked at her, "Oh, someone quick fetch my niece a glass of water. I feel she's quite touched." 

A footman seemed to present her water in a crystal in seconds, and Jesse gladly took it, forcing the water down her throat to soothe the disturbance. She hadn't quite realized how serious the matter with The Viscount and Lady Embry was to be. What if the betrothal did end up happening? Was Jesse to marry in Lady Embry's stead too? Surely it wouldn't come to that. Besides, Oscar Seymour would be here too. He would know what she ought to do. But would he know how she ought to behave with the Viscount? 

What if the real Lady Embry did have feelings for this Viscount Graham? They must've conversed in letters if they had been friends during childhood. Surely then Jesse's indifference would be a huge disservice to the heiress and to the Viscount's heart. 

"I'm alright," Jesse managed once she realized all eyes were pinned on her. "I was just caught by surprise, that is all." 

"Surprise?" The Lady Beresford cried, "But my dear, haven't I been informing you that you would make a good match with the Viscount? Surely his intentions would shine through in a lady's mind by that fact alone." 

"His intentions?" Jessie spoke, "But aunt, I haven't seen him for years. How could you know of his intentions? Perhaps he thinks of me as a friend." 

"If he does, that thought will cease when he looks at you," The Lady spoke proudly, "I am much well versed in the language of a man's mind, my dear. If it isn't friendship that leads to love these days, then it is nothing." 

Jessie mind travelled to Oscar Seymour despite her will and she dragged it back to Bakewell, to Rosenfield, to this breakfast table, to her plate. 

After breakfast, the party of three retired to the west drawing room of Rosenfield Abbey, a room furnished with pastels and silvers. The Lady Beresford seated herself on the sofa, and Acacia Beresford took a seat opposite. Jessie in the meanwhile, occupied herself at the window, gazing at the entrance iron gates of the Abbey grounds and hoping for Oscar Seymour's arrival. They were all in fact supposed to be waiting for The Viscount and his mother's arrival. 

Jessie got bored soon by her vigil at the window and was called by Lady Embry's aunt by her side as the woman talked of all things Jessie had no interest in.

"Should I play the pianoforte?" Jessie suggested when The Lady Beresford paused for breath. The forte might be the thing to cure her of her restlessness and Jessie had spent hours on it back home at the rectory. 

"Not now, child," The Lady Beresford dismissed the suggestion pressingly, "You shall play in front of the Viscount when he arrives. I shan't want you tiring yourself at it before he's even here to see you play. That would be an opportunity lost."

Jessie said no more. Her only consolation at present was Oscar Seymour's arrival. He'll know what to do. She could already feel the relief relaxing her core, as though he brought some invisible promise along that she didn't have to know in order for comfort to prevail. 

Hours went by in a painfully slow blur. Jessie figured she might as well have gotten an hour of sleep. The Lady Beresford had been much enthusiastic to engage her in a game of chess that Jessie was inclined to refuse, for she wasn't much good at the game and worried that her lack of talent in it would reveal her guise. The Lady had to then resort to sharing the game with Acacia Beresford, an interaction that was much delivered through with disapproved glances and slight hums of mock consideration at each other's moves. 

"I sure do hope the Viscount shows up," The Lady Beresford murmured with a sigh, her declaration quite purposeful to he mockery of her chess companion, "I have planned tons of activities, all revolving around him and you, of course, dear Aramina." 

Jessie managed a small smile, as she skimmed through a book she had acquired from the drawing room shelf. It was on astronomy, surprisingly. And while Jessie preferred astrology more, the book helped pass the time nevertheless. 

At precisely one o clock, with the sun bearing on the Abbey and the snow outside a fresh white, instead of a dull one overshadowed by the sky previous, a sledge was heard coming in outside. Jessie rushed to the window at the sound. The sledge parked outside, and the footmen of the house engaged, with one hurrying to open the passenger door for the guest and the other making his way to the back for luggage the party might have brought along. 

Jessie wondered if Oscar had much luggage. Her hoped for suspicions plummeted when an unfamiliar figure stepped out of the sledge. A gentleman. As soon as his feet were on the snowy ground, he turned to help out an elderly lady dressed exquisitely for travel. The man was dressed in black, his coat a dark velvet and the top hat on his head tall, straight and equally dark. 

"Has the Viscount arrived?" The Lady Beresford asked, and Jessie nodded. 
"Well then, come away from the window Aramina. A lady should not be seen spying like a common townswoman." 

"You underestimate my discretion, aunt," Jessie spoke, a grin tugging at her lips as she approached and sat beside Lady Embry's aunt. The woman chuckled, and Jessie relaxed, grateful for this small thing. She felt Acacia Beresford look at her, the lady's eyes radiating discomfort and hints of accusation. Jessie didn't look back, and she ignored the feeling the gaze gave against her skin. This was her mission, and she'll do it right for as long as she could. She wouldn't let Oscar down, and she wouldn't let Lady Embry down, she didn't care for what anyone else thought at present. 

The door to the drawing room opened as the butler of the house came prodding in, tailcoat flying behind. 

"Presenting The Viscount Graham, and The Lady Graham," He announced his voice surprisingly loud for a man of his short stature. 

Jessie and Acacia Beresford stood, while The Lady Beresford sat seated, waiting for the guests to enter. 

In came walking the gentleman she had seen dismount from the sledge, his mother right beside him. The man was tall, slender. His eyes were the blue of the sky, and Jessie saw tufts of blonde curls peek out from under his top hat. His hands were gloved, and she had a sudden realization that even his fingers looked as though they were twice as long as hers. She felt herself clutch her hands together at the base of her stomach. 

"Ah, Viscount Graham," The Lady Beresford spoke with a smile, "And Lady Fiona Graham. It is a pleasure to have you at Rosenfield again." 

"A pleasure to be here," The Viscount cleared his throat as his smile displayed his pearly teeth. They seemed to sparkle in her eyes. 

"Indeed," The Lady Fiona Graham agreed. 

"May I introduce my niece— for it has been long since she has been in your presence," The lady of the house declared, as she motioned towards Jessie with a swift wave. "Lady Aramina Embry." 

Jessie dipped in a curtsey, and as she straightened herself, her eyes caught the Viscount's who was looking at her with a keen look in his blue irises. His smile seemed to widen, and Jessie found herself wondering again what all there was between the lady she was pretending as and the Viscount who had been that lady's closest friend once. 

"Oh my," Lady Fiona Graham gushed as she observed Jessie, "How you've grown, dear Aramina." 

"And my daughter-in-law, Lady Acacia Beresford," The Lady Beresford continued and Jessie forced herself to break the eye contact with the Viscount. She felt chills cascade down her back. How was she to do this? Why wasn't Oscar Seymour here yet? 

If there was one thing the Viscount's presence had soothed her of, it was Thomas Cranmer's threat. Surely that criminal can't make a move with guests like the Viscount in the house. He would bide his time, wouldn't he? 

"Jack's wife, If I am not wrong," Fiona Graham mused, a grin on her lips as she glanced at the Lady Beresford. 

"Ever the conspirator," The Lady Beresford raised her brow and Jessie was surprised at this sudden intimacy for she hadn't heard anything about it at all. "I do have but one child, Fiona." 

The Lady Fiona Graham chuckled. 

"Come now, seat yourselves," The lady of the house instructed. "Lunch will be served in an hour, and I take it you are not much exhausted by the journey?" 

"Exhausted?" The Viscount's mother cried, shocked, before letting her playful grin slip, "Do you see me, Deborah? I am as fresh as daisies this morning." 

"Then I shall order tea," The Lady Beresford smiled, as everyone took seats in the drawing room. Then she rung the small silver bell she kept at hand and a maid came running in seconds after. 

The Viscount Graham seated himself near Jessie, and though she thought him quite attractive, she prayed he had not. 

"Lady Embry," He started after a pause, his voice sounded like butter, smooth and calm. "After so many years, I must say, this is a pleasure." 

Jessie turned to look at him, trying not be flattered, though it was hard. "Do you mean the Abbey, or our meeting?" 

She willed the smile tame on her face. Amused, but detached. It hadn't been horrible advice. Oscar Seymour's words had actually gotten her this far, but she was worried she'd only realize how deep she was in when she had to get out. 

"Both," The Viscount grinned. Jessie noticed the dimples pressing down on his cheeks. It made him appear so grounded and bright, like spotting a bed of bluebells amidst a sea of hydrangeas.

"The feeling is quite mutual, Viscount Graham," Jessie responded, thankful her voice was still levelled. 

"You have much changed," He let out in consideration after a pause. 

Jessie noticed how his small eyes seemed to hold the world of intricacies in them, as though he saw more than people imagined he did. 

"How so?" She managed, trying not to let her discomfort show. Surely she wasn't found out. People don't react so calm when chancing upon an imposter. 

"You are much beautiful then when I saw you last," The Viscount's words were natural, as though giving out compliments gave him no trouble. 

"I was a child then, sir," Jessie giggled. 

"That may be so," He agreed with a raised brow, "And may I continue? I see you've reserved yourself to fewer words." 

"What do you mean?" For a moment Jessie feared that Lady Embry had remained in correspondence with this gentleman, and he was catching onto her disregard of the fact. 

"I seem to remember a distinct lecture on the importance of birds to our environment when you chanced upon me mishandling a creature in the Rosenfield greenhouse when we met for the first time," He chuckled at the memory, "I went to my mother much reprimanded." 

Jessie felt a slight ache inside. This memory wasn't hers. She didn't share it, she wasn't supposed to. 

"I hadn't been wrong, had I?" She asked, composing herself and forcing a tease into her voice. 

"No," He chimed, his eyes finding hers again with that keen look, "Now that I look back, I believe you had been right about many things." 

"Surely not the impossible ones," Jessie glanced towards her aunt to find her deep in conversation with the Viscount's mother. Acacia Beresford was seated, quite left out, though being asked something or the other after every ten minutes or so by the Lady Fiona Graham to which Acacia Beresford's simple nods or shakes of the head had sufficed. 

"Those too," The Viscount spoke, his mind fixated on memories from the past while Jessie had no idea what she was talking about. "Those too." 

Bent on changing the subject, Jessie said, "So, Viscount Graham. Do you find Bakewell much changed as well?"

"This town's quite a timeless part of England. I feel as though change has hardly brushed it." 

"That is a good thing then," Jessie considered, "I should like some things to remain the same while others changed around me. Wouldn't you?" 

The Viscount pursed his lips in mock discomfort. "I'm afraid I'll have to disagree with that, though it pains me to do so. You see, Lady Embry, I embrace change. It is what keeps me going. I am not a man for same things and same days." 

"Then you expect much from things and days. You can't expect change all the time can you? Do you expect it from people as well?" 

"To some degree, yes. I expect change from people too. For example— it sounds utterly selfish I know— but I like my mother to think of me a bit differently each day. I expect her respect towards me to grow with every action I take. Same with my friends and acquaintances. Their opinion of me should mould a bit differently everyday, for I am not a rock. I am a sum of all my actions and intentions, and that calls for change doesn't it?" 

Jessie considered it for a moment. "That makes sense. I understand completely." 

"What about you then, Lady Embry? Do you prefer people to think of you a bit differently each day?" 

"If you would've asked me that a while long, I would've said yes in a heartbeat," Jessie managed with a small smile, "But lately, I've come to believe that it's what I think that matters the most for me. I don't much care for what people around me have to say, though it hurts sometimes when whatever they've got to say doesn't match up to my own expectations. But I feel as though if I forge my own path, people who truly care for me will respect me more each day nonetheless." 

"That's a valuable sentiment to go on with," The Viscount smiled. Jessie felt slightly dizzy with his teeth and dimples in her vision. She was glad that she was at least keeping him occupied— even if not in the way the real Lady Embry would have. 

"Thank you," She spoke softly. "How was your Christmas?" 

"It was much full of change," He smiled, "That's always interesting."

Jessie stifled a giggle. "I'm glad." 

"..Don't tell me the idea frightens you!" Lady Fiona Graham's declaration interrupted Jessie and the Viscount's conversation, and they looked to her. 

"Conrad, dear," The lady addressed her son, "I'm afraid the esteemed Lady Beresford is much too terrified for a winter ball at the Abbey." 

"A winter ball?" Jessie questioned.

"Why, yes," Lady Fiona Graham beamed, "Deborah's balls were all the rage in Bakewell when you were but eleven. Of course you both wouldn't remember much of them since I distinctly remember her having you and Jack put to bed for the event. I insisted on my Conrad's presence though, and almost barred my door when your aunt forced me o resign him to the same fate."

"Goodness, Fiona," The Lady Beresford uttered, "You make my balls sound like a battlefield." 

"Oh but they were, weren't they?" The Lady winked. "I dare say you should have one again. For old time's sake." 

"And," She added looking to Jessie and her son, "I'm sure these two would thoroughly appreciate it." 

"Very well then," The Lady Beresford agreed much to Jessie's surprise. Even Lady Acacia Beresford's jaw slackened a bit. "I shall decide a day and assign my staff on the immediate preparations." 

Just then, the butler of Rosenfield entered the room again. Announcing the very visitor Jessie had been waiting for with bated breath.

"Presenting Lord Oscar Seymour."