"MY GOODNESS," MISS JESSIE Churchill murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at herself in the looking glass, in her guestroom at Rosenfield Abbey in Bakewell.

The sun was setting outside, or rather, plunging into its abyss, painting the sky with haphazard streaks of oranges and pink hues that reflected onto the looking glass and then on Jessie.

"It is stunning, isn't it?" Lady Diana Buxton beamed, her hands gently adjusting the shape of the gown Jessie wore.

"I must give it back," Jessie hurried, her sensibilities taking hold of her, as she tried to ignore the beauty of the dress. The soft violet bodice, the lilac sheen mixed with hues of a burnt orange on the flowing skirt that blended like the colours on Rembrandt's own mixing palette.

"Oh, please," Diana waved a hand, "This is the least Lady Beresford can do for you."

"Diana," Jessie chatised, biting her lips so that she wouldn't laugh.

"What?" Diana asked pointedly, "You did so much for her, and how she treated you— gosh, it makes me fume."

"That is in the past now," Jessie glanced back at herself in the mirror. "And besides, she has invited us to—"

"Jessie, it was three days ago!" Diana spun on her heels, motioning for a maid to adjust the skirts of her own sky blue gown. The dress shone silver whenever the lady twirled in it.

"And I forgive, but don't forget," The lady added, shooting her friend a look. "Even if you choose to do both those things."

"Alright," Jessie Churchill threw up her hands in defeat. "Can we talk of something else? Like the ball we're to attend?"

"Alright. Speaking of which, I hope my cousin is at least twice on your dance card tonight."

Jessie gasped, her jaw wide as she looked at her friend in the mirror. Diana touched her intricately jewelled and done up hair nonchalantly.

"In fact, I honestly have no expectations for tonight except that."

"Diana," Jessie began calmly, knowing full well that whatever threads that had woven between herself and Lord Oscar Seymour, were not much conspicuous for the Lady Buxton.

"Lord Seymour and I aren't," She started, suddenly not knowing what else to say.

"Lord Seymour?" Diana laughed, her silk gloved hand touching her lips. "You have always called him Oscar when speaking of him to me."

Yes, that was almost three years ago, when things were different, Jessie thought to herself.

In Jessie's letters to her friend since then, Jessie hadn't ever spoken of Oscar, even though Diana had multiple times. He was her cousin, of course.

"Oh god," Diana stopped short, the smile wiping off her face. "Things are twisting up, aren't they?"

Jessie looked at her, not knowing what else to say.

"Look Jessie," Diana approached her, wiggling away from the maids' prodding hands. She took Jessie's hands in hers.

"Oscar is, unorthodox, as far as gentlemen go, and nobody understands that better than me. His ideals often border on the imbecilic, I understand that too. But, he is a man I trust. He has a good heart though he tries to cover it up with so many layers. He thinks he knows what he wants, but he doesn't really."

"He has always needed guidance— a gentle nudge in the right direction. He may appear in control of his feelings, but he isn't."

"He will confuse you," Diana added after a pause, "But that is because he is confused himself, but he will never hurt you. I can promise you that."

"So what should I do?" Jessie asked quietly. Eyes peering up at her friend.

"Encourage him," Diana replied, "Make him realize that he shouldn't doubt what he feels. Make him understand that its all warranted."

Jessie nodded slowly, her friend's words sinking in to her. It may be easier said than done, and Jessie Churchill wasn't at all sure how she would attempt it.

Then, Diana broke away, spinning in her gown with a bright smile on her face.

"We are going to have such a great time tonight," She beamed, "I wish Edward had shown up! He would laugh if he knew we walked ourselves right into a winter ball, of all things."

Jessie smiled a small smile, suddenly unable to reciprocate Diana's excitement. After this night, things would go back to normal, and Diana's normal was so different than Jessie's.

What if Oscar didn't really feel the same for her, and she had imagined and stretched his care as a gentleman into something else entirely.

If that happened, Jessie's normal stood waiting for her. Her desperate father eager to see her wed, and the offer of Victor Colston, a wealthy man of more than forty years, waiting for her on Lady Margaret Seymour's table.

The realization shook her to her core. She hadn't thought about her life in so long. Her previous life, the one she would have to go back to. Thinking of Lady Embry, Lady Beresford and Oscar Seymour had given her shelter.

These past three days, Jessie had spent her time dining, at tea, being entertained, by their hostess. She had spent every moment in company of Diana and Aramina, and often the Lady Graham and Lady Acacia. Oscar Seymour had only been in the same room with the other gentlemen, yet they hadn't spoken a single word to each other.

It felt odd now that Diana expected her to dance with Oscar. The possibility felt so far away, no matter how much Jessie were to stretch for it.

"Come, let us go," Diana spoke, taking Jessie's arm as the two ladies made their way out of the room and down the stairs.

The sparkling animation of the event tainted the air, and voices, happy and cheery, drifted everywhere, seemingly pouring out of the Rosenfield Abbey ballroom down stairs.

"Ladies," Lady Graham met them at the foot of the stairs, clapping her gloved hands together. "My, you both are a sight."

"Thank you," Diana smiled, holding tight onto Jessie's arm to give her comfort.

Guests entered through the doors at the bottom of the staircase. Gentlemen clad in the darks of their suits and ladies in colourful gowns twinkling like stars, the gems in their hair and against their skins so bright that perhaps the stars would pale in comparison.

Footmen and maids lined the gates, taking furs and coats of the guests as each shed theirs off.

"Miss Churchill," The Lady Graham spoke, "I believe my son is looking for you."

"Oh," Jessie acknowledged, a bit startled.

"And Lady Buxton," The Viscount's mother offered her a smile. "I also believe your husband's sledge just arrived. He has a guest with him."

Diana gasped, her face glowing.

"Miss Churchill," Another voice called and the ladies were met with the appearing figure of the Viscount Graham, the smile on his face deepening as his eyes caught Jessie's.

"Viscount Graham," Diana called out to him, "Will you escort my friend, while I receive my husband?"

"It would be my pleasure," Conrad Graham responded, stepping up immediately to take Jessie's hand. Jessie gave it to him, and with a glance backwards, saw Diana gliding away, before the Viscount gently pulled her towards the ballroom.

༺♥༻

Lady Aramina Embry stood beside her aunt, as the pair greeted the guests entering the ballroom. Clad in a pink gown that gleamed gold under the fire chandeliers in the ballroom, Aramina watched couples glide in, hand in hand, most she knew and most she did not.

It felt great to be in this position again, to greet people like this and have them respectfully greet you back. Aramina hadn't realized how much she'd missed this life of hers. Though she had gotten a taste if a far different life, this one was still hers.

She saw The Viscount enter, Jessie Churchill holding onto his arm. Aramina smiled when she saw them, and both of them offered her a smile in return.

"Jessie," Aramina spoke, "You look beautiful."

"And you, Aramina," Jessie touched her elbow.

"Aramina, darling," Someone called her out to Aramina just as the Viscount and Jessie had wafted past.

Aramina saw Lady Diana Buxton hurriedly approach her, the lady's silvery blue gown trailing behind her.

"Lady Beresford," Diana let out as soon as she approached, a slight breathlessness in her voice. "Would you mind were I to steal away your niece for a while?"

The Lady Beresford, flustered suddenly at the thought of greeting every guest alone, grasped at words she ought to say.

"I knew you would not mind," Diana beamed as though the woman had already gave her permission.

"Come Aramina," Lady Buxton turned to Aramina and took her arm, leading her along outside of the ballroom.

"My aunt despises greeting guests alone," Aramina offered shakily, not sure where she was being taken.

"Well," Diana spoke teasingly, wrapping her arm around Aramina's as they glided past the staircase and towards the Rosenfield entrance. "One must face their fears at some point in life."

Aramina chuckled.

"My husband has arrived, and I am taking you along to greet him," Diana smiled.

A flash of confusion washed over Aramina, but it vanished as soon as it had come when Lady Buxton let go of her arm outside.

There stood parked a dark sledge, and the figures of Lord Edward Buxton and.. Philip.

A sudden forceful feeling gripped her heart as Philip met her eyes. He was dressed like a gentleman. His dark suit making his cream cravat prominent. The tuft of his dark hair fell messily over his forehead as his grey eyes met hers.

Lady Buxton let out a happy cry, and Aramina turned to watch Lord Buxton spin his wife around once and say something in her ear that made her laugh.

As her laugh faded, Diana met Aramina's eyes and instantly disengaged from her husband, to acknowledge Philip.

"Philip," She spoke, a polite smile on her face. "I am glad you could come. Edward does not much prefer to travel alone."

Lord Edward Buxton rolled his eyes slightly, and Aramina realized with a start that Diana had orchestrated Philip's presence here.

"That is not true, actually," Lord Buxton mused, "I very much like the solace— except when I am with my wife of course."

Diana nudged her husband playfully.

"Well, now that you are here, Philip," She announced, taking her husband's arm. "Will you escort Lady Embry to the ball? I must admit I snatched her away quite harshly and everyone's already inside."

"Yes," Philip cleared his throat, blinking his grey eyes. "It will be my pleasure to."

Diana smiled and then led Lord Buxton inside, passing by Aramina and meeting her eyes with an encouraging look.

Aramina watched Lord and Lady Buxton disappear inside. She touched her gloved elbow awkwardly as Philip neared her.

"You don't have to do this," She blurted out, "I can—"

"I want to," Philip interceded, his voice earnest, eyes deep, unwavering.

"Philip, no," Aramina pressed, "We can't after what happened between us. You made it clear to me."

"Clear?" He asked, "I have been everything but clear to you, Aramina."

She stilled, holding her breath. This was his cue. Please make this right Philip, she repeated inside her mind desperately. Please.

"I— I was not comparing myself to you. Its just that I felt worthless. I felt like I did not deserve you, and can never grow to deserve you. And nothing you said was convincing me otherwise. It all made me feel wretched— made me feel like I could never make you happy."

He took another step towards her, a hand raised hesitantly in the air inching closer and away and closer and away from her cheek.

"Lord Buxton, he made me realize the difference between these two things. I still don't believe that I will ever deserve you, but I promise to you that I will grind myself everday to come near, to make you happy. Because— because my happiness lies with you, and I will not rest until I can make sure that I contribute to yours. Every day."

"Philip," Aramina sighed, pressing herself close to him as he finally touched her cheek. She leaned her face into his caress.

"Marry me, Aramina," He spoke firmly, "I will dedicate my entire life to making you happy, to loving you and caring for you. To making sure I match up even a little to the kind of man you fully deserve."

She peered up at him, only then realizing just how tall he was. Aramina's forehead barely matched up to his Adam's apple.

Then his words sunk in, and it felt like she had gotten herself worked up smelling ever flower in the world. The stomach erupted in what felt like butterflies emerging frantically out of their cocoons.

"Yes," She let out, "Yes, I will marry you."

And then they kissed. Aramina didn't realize how it happened. She felt the warm of his lips on hers, synced movements bursting delight in her body as her heart jostled inside her. She felt his hands wrapped around her waist, her own hands on his chest fingers aching to entangle themselves in his hair.

He tasted sweet, but also like wood, pine and musk. He tasted like a forest during spring. He felt like moss in winter.

They broke away to breathe, and Aramina saw his grey eyes clouded with want, desire and love.

"Come," She whispered to him, "I must introduce you to my aunt."

Then, before he could compose himself or recuperate, Aramina took his hand and dragged him inside, a bright smile on her face as she dodged guests to make her way with Philip into the ballroom.

༺♥༻

Miss Jessie Churchill was being spun around in the ballroom, the skirts of her dress lighting her vision with a hues of orange, the firelight from the dozen candles, the black of the Viscount's shoes. Colours had all mixed into a mist that floated around her.

The music poured all around her as couples danced. The tunes humming against her skin as the violinists strummed strings in gentle motions. Piano keys complimented the violins beautifully. It was all ecstasy, and though Jessie could play the piano, she never had much knowledge about music, about what instrument complimented another. But regardless, she thought the music at present was as perfect as sound could be.

The dance came to a halt, and Jessie stopped spinning. A slight breathlessness in her manner, but the thrill of dancing still fresh in her. She looked at the Viscount, who, also panting slightly, smiled at her.

The couples around them also stopped, and everyone offered a round of applause before the next dance was to begin.

Jessie curtsied towards the Viscount and he bowed in response, before leading her away from the dance floor.

"I will get us some drinks," He offered, before walking away with a smile.

Jessie tried to catch her breath, a gloved palm on her chest before someone suddenly spoke up from behind her, startling her.

"I will not be rid of him, will I?"

Jessie turned to look at Oscar Seymour, dressed properley in black, his hands pinned to his back with a grim expression on his face as he watched the retreating figure of the Viscount.

"What do you mean?" Jessie managed, a flush creeping up her neck with full force at being approached by Oscar, and that too, at a ball.

"I merely mean—," He stopped short, his eyes finding Jessie's full form.

He had seen her being spun around on the dance floor in flashes and glimpses amongst the forty or more other couples. But now, she stood in front of him, her every detail so vivid and bright and entrancing, it made him forget his words.

"You— you look beautiful," He let out, stumbling, eyes flitting over her before they landed on her face.

Jessie blushed more furiously. "Thank you."

"Miss Churchill I—," He broke off again, his jaw tightening slightly at his own incompetence. "I was hoping we could talk."

Talk? Jessie's heart flared.

"Yes," She let out hastily, before composing herself, "I mean, alright. Yes."

Calm yourself, she pressed to her mind and her jumping heart.

"Here are the drinks," The Viscount's voice flooded in as he reappeared in Jessie's vision, his eyes considering Oscar Seymour curiously.

Oscar pursed his lips at his interruption, before spinning to look at him, a fake smile plastered on his face.

"Thank you, Viscount Graham," He let out, taking both orange liquid filled crystal glasses from the Viscount's hands and offering one to Jessie while keeping the other for himself.

The Viscount's brow twitched.

"Though, I rather prefer cherry," Oscar smiled at the flustered Viscount before looking back to Jessie.

"Miss Churchill," He spoke, offering her his arm, "Shall we?"

Jessie nodded, trying her best to not smile as brightly as she wanted to at the Viscount's expense.

Then, both her and Oscar were making their way out of the ballroom and towards the entrance of Rosenfield Abbey where the snowy night outside was separated by the animation of the winter ball.

Jessie's heart suddenly stilled. What if Oscar Seymour wanted to talk of other things? Why was she expecting so much from this conversation? Was this to be the last night they would ever talk together as.. as proper equals?

They weren't equals. Jessie knew that. She was reminded of it every day in Southampton. But here, she had forgotten it, and she didn't want to be reminded again.

They stopped outside. The cold was oddly calming, but Oscar halted them inside so as to not expose Jessie to the full wrath of the snow outside.

"Miss Churchill," Oscar began, and Jessie held her breath, a thousand possibilities rummaging inside her.

"I know I haven't been kind to you in Southampton, or even after," He looked to the sky sith a sigh. "And I berate myself everyday for it."

"Oscar please," Jessie shook her head, "I am tired of apologies, and I am in need of none from you."

Oscar looked to her. "But you must let me say it. For my conscience."

"Why do you feel that you need to? You have been nothing but a comfort to me in all this time."

"Because I keep thinking of it," He let out, looking confused and at odds with himself. "I keep thinking of what I felt for you then and this drastic— this overwhelming change of what I feel for you now."

"And the guilt of it crushes me," He added. His dark eyes tearing away from her.

"And all that while, you—," He gulped, looking back at her. "You took every change from me with such decorum and kindness."

"Why?" He pressed, desperately. "Why not say something to me? Why not call me for the insensitive fool that I was being?"

"Because I believed in you then as I do now," Jessie managed, her mind suddenly awash with all of the painful things Oscar had ever said to her. But the thing was, none of those words hurt anymore.

"And why would you believe in me when I gave you no reason to?"

"You didn't need to," Jessie shrugged gently. "I wanted to no reason."

"God," Oscar tore his gaze away from her again, stepping away and running a hand through his hair. "Why are you like this, Jessie? Why are you so good, so devoid of intolerance and general distate some people feel for each other?"

Jessie neared him. "Because it is never worth it."

"Oscar, look at me," She touched his arm and pulled his attention to herself, eyes peering at him desperately.

"You don't need to torture yourself over what I didn't say to you or anything you did. Because that is all behind us."

He nodded, entranced by her eyes as he calmed down slowly.

"We are different now, aren't we?" Jessie gulped, "We will respect each other, even after we return to Southampton and all this is over."

Then, Oscar shook his head. "No."

Jessie's brows furrowed in confusion.

"No, I will do more than just respect you, after we return to Southampton Miss Churchill," He started, eyes fixated into hers. "I have fallen desperately and madly in love with you, and there is no force on this earth that can ever pull me out of it."

Jessie gasped, but Oscar only took her gloved hands in his and pulled her closely.

"I want you to marry me," He continued, eyes flitting over every inch of her bewildered face. "Make me the happiest man in—"

"Oh my god," A sudden cry broke in and Jessie and Oscar turned to the source.

There, at a close distance stood an apologetic Lord Buxton and a happily surprised Lady Diana Buxton, her gloved hands on her lips.

"Oh my god, Jessie!" She cried, running forwards and taking Jessie from Oscar's arms.

"We are going to be sisters!"

Jessie felt tears well up in her eyes at the thought. Oscar's words were still sinking in, making a bed for themselves in the core of her heart.

"If you would've let her reply first, cousin," Oscar trailed off, visibly annoyed at Diana's interference and slightly embarrassed in front of Lord Buxton.

"Oh," Diana realized with visible awkwardness. "I apologize."
She backed away from Jessie and joined her husband's side.

"There," she called, satisfied. "Carry on."

Jessie beamed at Diana, oddly grateful for her presence because he made her shake less. Then she turned to Oscar and met his dark eyes.

"Yes," She spoke, "I will marry you."

A flash of happiness broke through Oscar's nervous eyes, and he smiled. All his teeth on display. Jessie felt her heart stop. When had she ever seen him smile like that? It was a wonderous sight, and she didn't want to ever look at anything else.

Diana squealed in delight in the background.

Then, Oscar leaned in, before stopping midway and glancing towards where his cousin stood. He raised a brow and shot her a look.

"Oh, right," Diana winked at him, before dragging Lord Buxton along as they disappeared inside.

Then, the next thing Jessie felt was Oscar Seymour's warm hand taking her chin and pulling her towards him for a kiss. Her eyes widened, before she closed them tightly. The feeling relishing over every inch of her skin. His other hand dropped down her back to the small of her waist, and Jessie reached up to touch his hair at the nape of his neck.

He felt like nothing she had ever felt before. And this kiss? It felt like a dream come true, because it was. For a dream it had been for as long as Jessie Churchill could remember.

༺♥༻

On the dance floor, as Jessie spun with Oscar, her hand fitting in his like it was made for him, Jessie saw Aramina whiz by, dancing with a man she hadn't seen before. But she looked so happy, the love on her face mirrored that of Jessie's.

Aramina caught her looking and flashed her a smile, a passing look of comfort, and utter bliss between them as they broke their gaze to look at their respective partners.

"That, is the one everyone calls Philip," Oscar murmured to Jessie when she saw him looking.

Jessie raised a brow in surprise. Her mention of the man in a letter to Oscar flooding her memories.

"Apparently, he saved Lady Embry," Oscar continued as he twirled Jessie around. "Also, they are in love."

Jessie flashed Oscar a look.

"What? It is Diana's doing," Oscar chuckled, "She knows these things and makes it her mission for other people to know too."

"No doubt she is going to spread the news of our engagement to our family like wildfire once the night ends," He added, amused.

Jessie caught Diana's eye then, the lady spinning around with her husband on the dance floor in the distance. They flashed each other a smile.

After the dances, when the number of guests started depleting— people wishing each other good nights and blissful farewells, Lord Oscar Seymour lead his beloved to the gazebo of the Rosenfield Abbey. He wanted to be somewhere just with her, with no other people, no other voices than hers.

Jessie Cburchill held onto his arm, her heart swelling with every breath she took that night. Her life felt like it had fallen into place. Her future was no longer an indiscernible cloud she couldn't make out. She saw it clearly now, she saw her happiness so clear that it felt like the sun was in her periphery.

"I suppose this spot is taken," Jessie chuckled, as she made out two figures in the gazebo as they approached. Oscar halted in his steps, ready to make a run for it and find someplace else for Jessie and him to be.

"It's Aramina," Jessie spoke then, letting go of Oscar's arm and making her way into the gazebo. Oscar sighed, but followed her regardless.

"Jessie," Lady Aramina Embry cried with happy surprise.

"I am sorry, are we interrupting?" Jessie asked, spotting Philip beside Aramina.

"Not at all," Aramina blushed, "We just came out for some air."

"Lord Seymour," Aramina acknowledged Oscar and curtsied.

"Allow me to introduce my fiancé Philip," Aramina gestured towards him, as Philip forwards, offering both Oscar and Jesse a bow each.

"It is a pleasure to you meet you, Philip," Jessie smiled. "I heard much about your valour."

Philip smiled, shaking his head slightly.

"Jessie, come," Aramina approached Jessie's side, taking her arm. "Philip and I just spotted the archer constellation. It is absolutely stunning, you must see it."

As the ladies swept to the side, Oscar approached Philip awkwardly. This, wasn't exactly what he had presumed when heading out for the gazebo with Jessie at his side.

"So," Oscar cleared his throat, "How do you like Bakewell?"

Philip looked at him, grey eyes firm. "It is alright, I suppose."

"Yes," Oscar agreed, "It is alright."

Suddenly, Oscar saw a movement flash behind a tree nearest to where the ladies were. In that barest glimpse, Oscar had already made out the wide brimmed grey hat he had come to despise so much.

Oh no.

"Philip," Oscar looked at him, "We make for that tree. Quickly."

Philip, blinking and slightly confused, nodded firmly and followed Oscar with big strides and rounded up to the tree.

Oscar reached out a hand and grabbed what he made out was the neck, yanking the man out from behind the tree as Philip instantly landed a blow to the man's ribs to weaken him from retaliating.

Thomas Cranmer hunched over and groaned, and Jessie and Aramina gasped at his sudden appearance, taking quick steps backwards holding onto eachother.

Philip yanked the man towards him, a menacing expression on his face as his fist collided with Cranmer's face. The man's hat went flying, his grisly face partially visible in the darkness of the night as it slammed against the tree. It was marked with scars.

Thomas Cranmer fought back, quick to recuperate, his thick hand fisted and landed a blow to Philip's stomach. Philip stumbled backwards and Aramina cried in shock. Oscar grabbed Cranmer's shoulder and pulled him to face, then he slammed him against the very tree the man had hid behind, landing two hard puches to his face.

Cranmer struggled against Oscar's hold, the man's nose broken and dripping blood, and his lips were busted badly.

Philip recuperated and pounced back on Cranmer, gripping his hair and yanking his head towards himself while Oscar held him against the tree. Both Oscar and Philip were fuming, their anger radiating off of them, snatching Cranmer towards themselves in odd directions, fighting his body viciously like it was a rag doll.

"Stop," Jessie cried, "Oscar, stop this!"

"Yes," Aramina joined in, "You have to hand him over to the constable!"

Oscar and Philip stilled at the sound of their voices, glancing at each other, before turning to look at the ladies' frightened and anxious expressions. Thomas Cranmer groaned under them.

Oscar nodded, stepping back and letting the weak body of his opponent fall crumpled to his feet.

"Not so strong now, are you?" He let out, looking down at Cranmer, distaste evident in his voice.

Jessie ran over and took hold of Oscar's arm, pulling him towards her and wrapping her arms around his neck. He sighed into her neck, his own arms around her waist.

Aramina tended to Philip, leaning into his broad chest as her frightened eyes glanced at Cranmer's heaving and crumpled form.

Seeing her uncle like this, Aramina realized just how powerless he was. He had pretended to be powerful, and she had believed him. She had let him terrorize her all her life. She had let his threat loom over her, but he was just a man. And he had been defeated.

But, in a twisted sort of way, Aramina was thankful that he did what he did. For if it was not because of him, she would have never met Philip. She would never have met Jessie. She would never have been so truly, incandescently happy as she was now.