Chapter 6
"WE HAVE TO FIND HER. IT IS HIM. It is that bloody Cranmer who's taken her," Jack shouted, grabbing a vase off the side table and throwing it at the nearest wall of the drawing room. The vase smashed, the shatter deafening. The darkness outside was beginning to lighten, the faintest shade of blue pouring into the sky and spreading. Lord Beresford, Lady Beresford and Oscar, along with the butler of Wycombe house, were all gathered in the east drawing room of the house. None of them had slept, and the hours had trickled by painfully slow, full of adrenaline and anxiety.
"Calm yourself Jack! Breaking things will not bring her back," Oscar shouted back, frustration swimming in his veins like a drug. Being the rational one in the situation, Oscar had tried to rack his brain, trying to come up with something or the other, but it proved hard to impossible with his friend next to him shouting and breaking things.
Lady Beresford had taken a seat away from her raging husband. She sat on a mint sofa, wrapped in an intricate shawl, silently sniffing with eyes so glassy they reflected the entire room in them. She had her maid by her side, the poor girl offering solace however she could.
"What will we say to your mother, Jack?" Lady Acacia Beresford spoke, trying to keep her voice soft and levelled to calm her husband's fury, "She will be here tomorrow. We can't possibly tell her, her heart is weak she won't be able to fathom this. She is expecting to see Aramina."
Jack Beresford looked up, his eyes shot over to his wife, softening as they did so. It appeared that he hadn't considered his mother's arrival in the heat of the ongoing situation. The honourable Lady Beresford, did indeed have a weak heart. Jack had spent the last decade of his life being told by physicians to be gentle with his mother. It wasn't that Jack was ever rough with her. They had their differences in Jack's adolescence, but he had changed his ways since then, being wary of the fact that he'd implicate incurable damage on his mother if he didn't.
He looked over to his friend, and met Oscar Seymour's careful eyes. The wheels turned in both their heads, the wheels in Jack's head although being painfully unorthodox. He couldn't think straight. Which is why he needed Oscar. Jack knew that his decision making abilities were limited when thrust into a situation he'd never fathomed. Which was why he needed the level headed Oscar Seymour, to help Jack slay his dragons. To tell which blade would be swifter, to toss him a sword when he needed to wield one.
"Lady Beresford has an eyesight issue, does she not?" Oscar spoke up after a brief silence. His arms were folded across his chest as his right hand touched his chin. It was his thinking posture, and it always helped. Oscar just hoped it would cooperate this time as well.
"Good heavens man, my mother is not blind enough to not note the absence of my cousin in the room," Jack snapped, aggravated.
Oscar narrowed his eyes at his friend, then ignoring him entirely, looked over to his wife for a proper answer.
Acacia Beresford blinked, "She does, which is why she always carries her lorgnette. She often doesn't need it, but she always acquires use of it when I show her fabrics for gowns. Or if she meets new people and wants to make note of their facial features." She paused, thinking. She feared the information was not at all useful, and struggled to think of anything more that would help.
To her surprise, Oscar nodded, his gaze fixed on a flower vase full of lilies at a distance, yet his thoughts seemed entirely elsewhere.
"I have a proposition. We need time to find Lady Embry, so to avoid your mother suspecting anything, we need a decoy," Oscar Seymour spoke, "A human decoy. Someone to fill in Lady Embry's place while we search for her."
Jack's eyes narrowed, and his brows furrowed, "That is mad," he uttered and scoffed.
"It is the best ploy I've got, if you want to risk your mother along with your cousin as well, then perhaps you can come up with something," Oscar snapped. He knew there was not a better solution than this one, and he knew his friend was too anxious and angry to even make use of his brain.
"And who, pray, do you have in mind to play pretence as my cousin?" Jack demanded. He was upset, angry, but he knew there was no other way. Inside, he was thankful that Oscar was there, inside he was thankful to have someone else think for him, but outside, he was frustrated that his anger clouded his brain and his judgement to appreciate all of it.
Oscar's lips twitched slightly, and he found both his friend and his wife looking at him in intrigue and curiosity. "The rector's daughter, Jessie Churchill," he let out finally.
She was the only one he could think of. She had ginger hair the likes of the missing cousin, the same skin color and a similar petite physique. What the rector's daughter lacked for such a pretense was a pair of beautiful amber eyes, the wit, charm, intelligence and even the elegance that Lady Embry personified. In all of Oscar's irritation with the rector's daughter, he'd never assumed that she'd be an answer to a problem such as this. This was going to be challenge, and a dangerous one at that.
༺♥༻
The snow pounded on the roof of the rectory, and Miss Jessie Churchill felt the soft drumming echo throughout the walls. She sat by her window, on her lap lay a book, abandoned as the reader gazed out of the glass window, lost in dreams of a snowy winter's day. It was almost Christmas, and Jessie wished it wouldn't come so soon. She had started dreading it. Started dreading the terrifying loneliness such holidays consumed her with. It was just her and her father having dinner. One Christmas earlier, they had dined at the rector's friend's house upon invitation, but last Christmas they hadn't received any such thing again.
Jessie wondered whether it would be just her and father again this time, after all, Christmas was in just a week and invitations tend to come at least two weeks prior. Southampton had started to look the part as well, with decorative bells on sleighs transporting people places, beautiful wreaths adoring cottage doors and grand houses entrances alike. It was beginning to look like heaven on earth, just like it always felt that time around.
"You should decorate the rectory, miss, you always enjoy it so," The rectory maid, Lucy, spoke as she folded some sheets in Jessie's room. Being the only maid employed at the rectory, Lucy had become more family than staff, and Jessie for one, was grateful for it.
"I don't feel like it," Jessie managed, her eyes still fixed on the snow covered landscape outside. A family swept by in their red sleigh, gallant brown horses leading them.
"This is about Lord Colston is it not? You haven't told Mr Churchill?" Lucy probed, keeping the folded sheets aside and approaching Jessie, putting one hand on her knee in silent comfort. Lucy was only twenty years of age, making her three years Jessie's junior, thus Jessie had found in her the comfort of a younger sister.
"I have not," Jessie responded, her voice plain, "If I tell him, then it is final and I can't go back. Everything will change, and I just need more time."
"More time for what?" Lucy questioned, a smile playing at her lips. Jessie's face shot towards her at such a question, solidifying the maid's smile.
"More time to find what I'm looking for. To see if there is a chance at love and life promised for me or not. I need to look for it, because there must be something. This just can't be it," The rector's daughter cried, a sigh concluding her statement as her fingers tightened around the book that was on her lap.
"It's good to see you've not given up hope," Lucy smiled, reaching in for an embrace as Jessie hugged her back, her eyes shutting tightly. It was then that a dark sleigh came to a halt in the bed of snow right outside the rectory, and a gentleman hurried out, unbeknownst to the party by the window, and approached the rectory door.
A series of knocks sounded, sharp and desperate, interrupting Jessie and Lucy's embrace. Jessie spotted the sleigh outside and her heart beat quickened. The chauffeur sat at his appointed spot, holding the two horses' reins in waiting. Perhaps it was someone with an invitation for The Churchills to join them for Christmas dinner. A spark flared inside Jessie, perhaps this Christmas will not be so lonesome after all. She wondered who's house they were invited to, and her series of thoughts lead her so fast that panic engulfed her when she thought of what she'd wear.
Lucy, who had rushed towards the door, came rushing back to Jessie's room, an unreadable expression on her face. Before the rector's daughter could ask who it was, since craning her neck to see the non visible rectory door on the other side of the house had not worked, a gentleman appeared from behind Lucy, walking straight into Jessie's room.
Jessie stumbled to straighten herself, getting down from the window seat and planting both her feet on the ground, her heart pounding rapidly at the sight of the man before her. The feet landed noisily, and her heart constricted in shame at the horrid sounds the wood of the floors made. She'd never noticed that before, perhaps it was her self consciousness kicking in, as a result of this surprise visitor.
"Lord Seymour," Jessie let out, managing an unorthodox curtsy, which happened to be the best she could do. Her eyes dropped to her dress, the discoloured casual dress she wore around the rectory when she helped Lucy with some chores. Her heart thumbed again in shame and self consciousness.
Lord Oscar Seymour gulped. He had rushed from Wycombe, promising Jack Beresford that everything will be made right. He had asked the chauffeur to speed up, and they had practically rode the winds to get there. Yet Oscar regretted all of it instantly. The sight of Jessie Churchill made his mind go blank.
Standing in front of him in a dress that probably would make her blend right in with the staff of Wycombe house, Oscar thought of how he could've ever imagined she'd be able to play pretense as an heiress. He racked his mind for any other substitutes, but none rose up. His hopes lay on Jessie Churchill. This woman, without means and anyone to spread gossip to, would be the perfect decoy, minus all the efforts he would have to ensure to make her a believable one.
"Get out," Oscar cleared his throat and directed his words towards the maid, "I need to speak with Miss Churchill on a matter of importance and urgency."
Lucy nodded, anxious at being spoken to with such authority, then she scurried off without so much as a confirmation from Jessie.
Jessie, however, was much too concerned with trying to get her heart beat to settle. The organ in her chest was pounding like it had never pounded before, desperate to break out of the cage that were her ribs. What matter could Oscar Seymour possibly have that would concern her? Her mind raced and until she settled on one possible outcome, Lord Colston.
Was her intended here? Had the young Seymour son come to escort her to him? Was she to be robbed of the time she needed? Her rail of questions were instantly broken when Oscar cleared his throat again and spoke up.
"Miss Churchill, I know this is rather inappropriate for me to appear here without so much as a card or an earlier understanding. I find myself in a predicament. Honor bound to aid my friend in his family's time of need, I have come here seeking your help." He finally met her eyes. His determined gaze was received with a surprising expression as Jessie Churchill's eyes widened.
"How can I possibly be of help?" Jessie managed, trying hard to keep her composure. Was there something in this world that Jessie Churchill could help Lord Oscar Seymour with? Had she indeed been wielded with such power that he would come rushing to her door? Was she indeed the last person who could be of any help? because if she wasn't the last, Oscar would never have come and however painful that truth was, she knew it and acknowledged it.
"Perhaps father might-," she started before Oscar cut her off.
"No," he blurted, "The rector is, in this dilemma, of no use to me."
Suddenly Jessie was glad that her father was on his rounds. He had gone, as usual during that particular hour, to discuss the upcoming Christmas weekend sermon with some enthusiastic parishioners, at least that was what Mr Churchill referred to them as.
"My friend's cousin, Lady Aramina Embry has been kidnapped. She is an heiress and her life is at stake, so I'm sure you can understand my urgency," Oscar continued.
Jessie gasped in shock, covering her mouth with both her palms, "Oh, how dreadful!"
"We need someone to pose as her, to pretend to bear her name and keep up an appearance until we find Lady Embry and bring her back safe and sound," He cast her a glance, hoping she would piece together her part in this role.
"That is mad, who's idea was that?" Jessie spoke, aghast. Oscar grimaced.
"Oh, I mean it is not possible, such an idea," she quickly stumbled on her words, noting the gentleman's reaction.
"That is not for you to decide," He declared, then lowering his voice he added, "What I- we, need you for is to play the part. To be Lady Embry for however long it takes for us to find her and bring her back."
Jessie gasped again, this time taking a step back in the shock of it all. "Pretend to be an heiress? are you out of your mind?"
Oscar flinched, he released a breath trying to hold onto his composure and hoping with every ounce of his being to somehow convince her. He needed to save Lady Aramina Embry. She was kind, selfless and undeserving of the trouble she was in. He had to help her, it was his fight now as well and he would fight it alongside Jack and his family.
"She is in trouble, Miss Churchill. Your pretence could give us time to find her before anyone suspects that she is missing. A bigger ploy is at work here and Jack and I intend to unravel it and rescue her," Oscar pressed, his voice earnest.
Jessie pivoted, facing the window in her room with her back towards Oscar. He was pleading. He had never spoken to her like this before. This Lady Aramina Embry must be someone truly important, not just for her money, but to Oscar as well. The thought cut her, like an arrow in her beating heart, but it did not make her fall in love like cupid tales in books, it just hurt.
She thought about it and the gentleman in her room kept silent, giving her the space to think. She appreciated the gesture. Nobody gave her time these days, nobody seemed to think she needed space to think. People just did the thinking and decision making for her, claiming to have her best interests at heart when her heart was the one thing they would never care to know.
"I know it is Christmas soon, and you probably have commitments, but it is matter of life and death. If you agree, I will do anything I can to return the favour. I could help with Lord Colston's offer. I could convince him to look elsewhere and neither Mr Churchill or my mother would know, that is, if you don't want to accept the offer," Oscar faltered, no longer sure what he was doing or if it was even working.
Jessie gulped. The thing she wanted most at this point was to get rid of this Lord Colston and the offer hanging over her head. She's like me, Jessie thought. One girl being chased for her title and money, and the other being forced to chase title and money in whatever form it came.
"She is in real trouble, isn't she?" Jessie spoke softly, her gaze dropping to her hands. She felt him nod behind her. Jessie hadn't ever met this heiress, she knew nothing about her. Was this Lady Embry kind, generous and wholehearted? would she try to help were Jessie in trouble? probably not, but Jessie's heart screamed at her to help nonetheless.
Jessie spun around and faced Oscar. He had a hopeful expression on his face, which made her heart immediately want to soothe it. "Well," she let out, "How much do I look like her?"
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