"SO IT IS DONE?" LADY DIANA Buxton inquired impatiently, apparently not at all pleased with her husband's ability to maneuver about a point without getting right to it.

"Yes, my dear," Lord Buxton emphasized, "It is done."

Audible exhales of relief fluttered about in the east sitting room of Berkshire Abbey.

"We were able to locate the men and hand them over to the authorities. Lord Beresford and I also managed to get one of them to divulge any information of the forged documents Thomas Cranmer hinted at." Lord Buxton added, voice levelled as the party in the room followed his every word.

"And what of them, Lord Buxton?" Lady Aramina Embry asked, "Do you know where they are? They can be destroyed, correct?"

"Cranmer's been sending them to a deposit bank he had opened under a fake name," The gentleman responded. "We have the key to it, my men are on the mission as we speak."

Aramina nodded in understanding, briefly glancing at Philip who offered her a small smile.

"Rest assured, Lady Embry, those documents will be destroyed by nightfall."

"Now, on to destroying Cranmer," Lord Jack Beresford let out, a thoughtful expression on his face as schemes ran through his mind like waterfalls.

"A task that is significantly much easier," Lord Buxton pointed out. "All you need to do is to corner the man in the city, give the victim testimony to the constable, and he will be taken in waiting to see the judge in no time."

"Which is why we must head to Bakewell soon," Lady Diana Buxton pressed, eyes peering at her husband. She glanced at Lord Beresford. "Your man is there, and my cousin and my friend Miss Churchill cannot be expected to hold the fort all by themselves for so long. I keep getting this terrible feeling that things are sure to go amiss while we wait here."

"My dear," Lord Buxton raised a brow, "I would not call what we had been doing here waiting."

Diana rolled her eyes at him. "You know what I mean. Please, Edward, just arrange for the transport so that we can set out."

"I cannot until it is completely safe to do so. But believe me, I am trying." He pursed his lips, eyes earnest.
Then, a curious look spread over his features as he looked back at his wife.

"Am I to believe it is your intention to accompany them to Bakewell?" He asked her.

"Of course, I am going," His wife responded sharply, "Oscar and Jessie are there too, you know. And I must see this whole escapade through."

"Lord Buxton," Another voice spoke up, a raw voice adding to the discussion.

Everyone turned to look at the man who had spoken, and eyes were met with Philip's firm demeanour, his eyes pinned to Lord Buxton.

"How much more time do you think it will be before it is safe to transport out of the city?"

"Now, that is the question I was looking for," Edward Buxton approved with a nod. "Thankfully, I would say not more than eight and forty hours— by which time I hope to have safe transport ready."

"That is a relief to know," Aramina Embry sighed, relaxing herself.

༺♥༻

Lord Oscar Seymour hurried on foot, the sledge having parked itself at the edge of the street. The hard snow crunched under his boots as he quickened his pace, hasty breaths forming white clouds of mist in front of his face. He inwardly cursed the driver, not being keen to be seen dropping off a customer at Bakewell's prison center, the grumpy man had insisted Oscar cover the rest of the journey on foot.

And in return Oscar had been nigh sure to substract the incompetence from what he was owed. The snarl on the man's face had been satisfaction to Oscar, but now that he had to actually walk, the smirk on his face had been wiped clean of its own accord.

He tried to push all thoughts out of his mind. The only thing that mattered presently was Miss Jessie Churchill's situation. Oscar's hands fisted at his sides. How had he gotten here? He had been so sure. This should not have happened, this wasn't supposed to happen. He should have made sure, he should have done more to protect her from this outcome.

Approaching the entrance, Lord Oscar Seymour pushed past a guard in uniform at the door and stepped inside, quickly making his way to the nearest counter he saw and telling the man standing there who he had come to see.

"Miss Jessie Churchill." Oscar let out, taking off his top hat impatiently and rubbing his head of hair with a gloved hand to dislodge pieces of snow that had managed to sneak in.

The man hummed in response, taking out a small notebook and jotting down Oscar's name and time of visit, and then he motioned to another guard nearby.

Before Oscar knew it, he was following the guard to where Jessie was being kept. His heart pounded fiercely inside him. How could he face her now? After everything he had caused her? He was the reason she had fallen head first into this mess.

A ferocious lash striked his heart as his mind relayed to him the images of hours ago. Jessie's face wet with tears as men dragged her out if the main hall if Rosenfield Abbey. The look in her eyes as she held his gaze. Oscar wanted to rip the policemen's arms out for touching her.

It all had happened so fast, like a lightening strike. He had heard shouting, cries, coming from the main hall, and the sight that had greeted him had been Miss Churchill being held back like some common criminal. Oscar didn't know how it had started. He wasn't aware if she was given away somehow. At that moment, finding the cause had not been his first priority.

Once Jessie Churchill was taken away, Oscar had exited the Abbey instantly, not caring enough to give a second glance to any of its grieving inhabitants. Stark hatred had filled his chest like poison. These people deserved nothing more from him. He had come here for Jessie, and she had come here for them, yet they had handed her over the first chance they got.

Presently, Lord Oscar Seymour had no plans except to secure Jessie Churchill's freedom. And then, will he be at leisure to pound his fist into the face of the person who was responsible for giving Miss Churchill's guise so viciously away.

"Through here," The guard spoke, opening the iron bar gate to Jessie Churchill's cell. "I will be right here, so call when you are done, my lord."

Oscar Seymour nodded at him, making his way inside. His eyes instantly fell onto Miss Churchill's figure. She was alert, pressed against the wall of her cell as an act of caution when she had heard footsteps and the door being opened.

Her luscious ginger hair had fallen out from the hair do he had previously seen on her before she was taken. It framed her face in curled rivulets and fell on her shoulders all the way to her chest, her petite frame shaking with the force of her breaths, skin appearing a pale yellow in the light of the sun pouring in from a high window.

"Oscar," She managed, voice cracking, relief flooding behind her eyes.

"I— I had to see you," Oscar swallowed, mouth dry, words going slack. "How are you? They did not hurt you, did they? They did not touch you?"

Jessie shook her head, straightening herself and stepping away from the wall.

"No," She spoke, her voice above a whisper, "I haven't seen anyone since they put me in here."

Oscar slowly nodded, breathing slowly through his nose, his top hat still held tight under his arm, hair tousled and falling on his forehead.

"I have written to Portsmouth, to Jack," He began, "His testimony added to mine, along with my cousin's and Lord Buxton's will be enough to ensure your freedom."

"I suppose I will just have to wait then," Jessie smiled a small smile. "Thank you, Oscar."

Oscar looked at her, his brows furrowing as he forced a scoff. "Thank you for what? For getting you in this godforsaken mess? For leaving you to face all this alone?"

Jessie's lips parted at his outburst.

"I just—," He broke off, running a frustrated hand through his hair, "I thought I could do it. That I could help Jack find Lady Embry, I thought that this scheme would help. But I have failed at everything. I was no help to Jack, and I shoved you in Thomas Cranmer's path, and I am the reason you are here."

"No," Jessie gasped, shocked at his words, his disregard for himself felt like a spear tearing through her heart.  "No, Oscar. You helped so much. You helped everyone. You gave comfort and support to Lord Beresford, you taught me to do this, you tried so hard and kept trying, that is what matters.  It is not your fault if some things were written differently."

Oscar Seymour looked at her, their eyes locked in a gaze. He wiped aggressively at his then.

"How did it happen?" He asked after a pause. "Who gave you away?"

Jessie saw the anguish inflate in his eyes, his misery at not being there when it all took root.

"Thomas Cranmer," She managed reluctantly. She did not want Oscar to dwell in further anger, but she would rather stay locked up for her entire life than lie to him.

Fury flashed across his face. "Cranmer was at Rosenfield?"

"Yes," Jessie answered, "He came under the guise of Lady Embry's acquaintance. I did not know who it was so I met him in the main hall. He knew I wasn't her, because he told me his men had written to him. They told him that the real Lady Embry was in Portsmouth. So he knew I was— that I was a fake."

She paused, hating that word so much it made her toes curl.

"Then he started shouting," Jessie's voice cracked again as tears rushed to her eyes, thinking of the scene. "Then everyone came. He called me an imposter. Then the Lady Beresford checked my shoulder for a birthmark I didn't have."

Tears had wet her cheeks again now, and Jessie furiously wiped at them, keeping her eyes away from Oscar.

"He suggested that I had— that I had killed the real Lady Embry for her fortune."

Oscar's lips let out an angry yell as he kicked the iron door of the cell furiously.

"I looked to Lady Acacia," Jessie continued, "I asked her to tell them that I hadn't done anything. But she— she didn't help."

"Cranmer will choke on these words, I swear to you Jessie," Oscar's eyes bore into hers with maddening fervour. The whites of his eyes were streaked with red veins popping out.

"He will not live a day after I am done with him."

Jessie's brows pinched together. "I do not care about him at present, Oscar, I do not care what he gets or what he doesn't."

"Can you not see? It is over now. The Lady Beresford knows her niece is missing and she is probably breaking apart. Soon, everyone will know, and it would be chaos. How will Lord Beresford find her then?"

Oscar stepped closer to her, his eyes softening. "He found her."

Jessie gasped. "Really?"

"Yes. Lady Embry was found three days ago, Jack relayed it to me in a letter I received after breakfast at Rosenfield this morning."

Jessie Churchill's lips parted, and a vibrant smile broke across her face. Her right hand touched her chest as she let out another gasp of disbelief.

"She is safe and sound, with my cousin and Jack at Berkshire Abbey. They will depart for here once transport out of Portsmouth becomes safe. Then Lady Embry's testimony will convict Cranmer."

"That is so wonderful. Oh, thank goodness," She spun on her heels, heart fluttering erratically.

Then she paused, slowly turning to look at Oscar, a soft confused look on her face.

"Why didn't you tell me in the morning? We talked after the Viscount had went inside," Jessie spoke, her words barely above a whisper.

Oscar blanched as he broke their gaze, eyes flitting to his shoes briefly. He didn't respond.

"Oscar," Jessie pinched her brows together, eyes peering at him. "Why didn't you tell me? If I had known Lady Embry was found—" She broke off. What would have she done? Atleast she would have known, if nothing.

"It would have been an early relief," She continued after a pause. "I could have faced Cranmer better."

"I— I do not know what I was thinking," Oscar started, voice slightly shaky, "Only that, if I could just have a few more moments with you before you go back to—," He gulped guiltily. "Telling you meant things reverting back to normal. And I have began to hate that word with a passion."

Jessie stayed silent for a few seconds before speaking, her heart making a ruckus in her chest.
"Normal can mean different too sometimes, it depends on how you look at it."

Oscar blinked, taking another step closer to her, and Jessie found herself doing the same.

"I do want it to mean different," Oscar began, voice quiet enough for only her to hear. "I want our normals to be different."

Jessie peered at him, aching for him to say more. Oscar read the look in her eyes and made to oblige.

"Jessie, I want—,"

Suddenly a groan sounded outside, replacing with giant thud as though a sack had fallen to the floor. On instinct, Oscar covered Jessie, as he cautiously stepped towards the unlocked iron door to look outside.

He spotted the gaurd who had led him  to Jessie Churchill's cell, sprawled unconcious on the floor. Then a familliar figure came into view, dangling keys in his hand. Oscar couldn't keep the scowl from his face.

"Viscount Graham," Jessie gasped, peering from over Oscar's shoulder.

The Viscount was in the same attire he had been wearing in the morning, now accessorized with a cheeky grin on his face.

"I will be bold, and call this a rescue," The Viscount smirked, as he glanced at Jessie. Then he turned to look at Oscar again. "Though, I did not realize that you would be needing my services too, Lord Seymour?"

"I do not," Oscar snapped, abandoning all the previous propriety he had shown the Viscount at Rosenfield.

"But— my lord," Jessie began hastily, looking at the Viscount, "Isn't this—"

"Do not worry," The Viscount cut her off, "I have secured us a proper way out, if of course, I am given the assurity that the lady in question deserves the charity."

Jessie glanced at Oscar, before speaking. "My lord, I am guilty of nothing but impersonation, which, was done with the permission of some of Lady Embry's family. It was done to help her. I will gratefully provide you details once I am in a position to do so."

The Viscount nodded. "Then I will see out of here, safely."

With that being said, The Viscount led Jessie and Oscar through a different hallway in the small prison quarters. And soon they were at a door that opened to the snowy street outside, no guards or men in uniform around.

Once outside, The Viscount flashed Jessie a smile.

"I can offer you quarters in my estate, while this situation dies down. You will be my guest, and no one will be able to object," He spoke with an air of pride.

Jessie looked at him, thankful for his help, his offer.

"I am in your debt, my lord," She started, "But I—,"

"Miss Churchill is coming with me," Oscar interceded, eyes glancing towards the Viscount from Jessie.

"I have secured safe lodgings for her, until my cousin's arrival. After which, we will return to Southampton." He continued firmly. "And I would rather not trust you with her."

The Viscount Graham frowned and shrugged. "Understandable. But you must know, Lord Seymour, that I was under the notion that she was Lady Embry."

Oscar didn't offer a response.

"At least let me be of help in other ways. What of the Lady Embry? Where is she?"

"She is safe, and will return to Bakewell with my cousin and Lord Beresford soon," Oscar managed. "If you want to help, start by securing the location of Thomas Cranmer."

"The Lady Beresford kicked him out," The Viscount stated, "I will try to find out where he went."

"If you do," Oscar pressed two fingers in his vest pocket and brought out a card. "This is the inn we are staying at."

The Viscount looked at the card, and nodded firmly, before they parted.