"FRANK HAS GARNERED QUITE some astonishing business experiences in London," The Countess spoke, an amused expression on her face as she observed her son's confident posture as the spotlight moved towards his new talent. "Although, I must admit the notion of them is quite ridiculous to me, but it seems I must support it nonetheless, as there seems to be no other choice for me in sight."

"Oh come, Aunt Agnes, I'm sure whatever Frank's propositions are, they must all be very sound," Lady Diana Beaumont smiled, trying to ease the tension. Aunt Agnes was always quite verbal about her opinions, despite how disagreeing they might be, "Frank is more capable than you give him credit for."

Frank smiled at Diana as the words left her mouth. He'd forgotten how he could always count on her for everything, for dealing with his mother when she insisted on being disagreeable, for turning awkward conversations around, for supporting his ideas no matter how daft they were, and for making him see reason whenever he needed it.

"I'm afraid then he showcases his capabilities in front of you only, Diana, for I have yet to see even a glimpse by mistake," The Countess spoke again, as she motioned for a maid to bring forth some more biscuits for the little party.

"Mother, if you are done with your disagreements, pray give me an opportunity to at least tell Diana the proposition in question," Mr Frank Templemore requested, an amused grin scaling his lips as his mother waved her hand nonchalantly, motioning for him to go for it.

As he turned to face Diana, he suddenly felt his train of thought disappear as he caught sight of her, with her dark chocolate eyes fixed intently on him and her plump lips maneuvered in a soft encouraging smile. It was the look she always gave him, the look of promise of agreement of whatever that should leave his mouth, the look of support for whatever unheard endeavor he had in mind. It was the look he had always yearned for these past two years. It was same look she had sported the night he had proposed to her, but only then it had lied of the promise and support held in it.

Clearing his throat as he felt his silence exceeding the time limit, he knocked all unnecessary thoughts from his mind. The past was in the past, was it not? 

"I mean to invest in a business here in Portsmouth," He started, putting on a sincere smile on his face as he looked from Diana to Alicia and then to Diana back again.

"That is indeed a very sound proposition Mr Templemore," Alicia spoke up, a little confused as to what The Countess might find disagreeable in the endeavor, "Aunt Charlotte's husband has gained quite the success in his business endeavors in Portsmouth and he too started with investments in capable businesses."

"I have no doubt that investments are surely the way to go about in having success in business endeavors, but I had hoped he set his sights on a business in Southampton," The Countess pressed, "Frank is only a man of twenty and one with no previous experience except watching his father work and his best option would've been to start from where he is known. Not to gamble money to an unsure recipient."

"You are right, Aunt Agnes," Diana added, it really would've been a good option to start in Southampton. Familiarity would have bred success for Frank easily there, and from there he could've have ventured out, "But surely he can try here as well."

"I take it you have a business in mind here Frank?" she asked, her eyes turning towards him.

"Yes I do," he replied confidently, "Portsmouth, Cotton Textiles Mills & Co."

Lady Diana Beaumont sucked in a breath as the all familiar business title rolled off of Frank's tongue, her smile faltering slightly as she struggled to hold it up. Exchanging a glance with Alicia, who bit back a scoff, Diana quickly fixed her gaze back on Frank, who had without doubt noticed this quick reaction.

"It seems you both are familiar with the business in question," Frank noted, shifting to the edge of his seat, curiosity laced in his voice. 

"You are?" The Countess asked, surprised, as Diana cleared her throat, smiled, and shrugged, "Only because it is where Uncle Arthur is employed."

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

"Wait, let me see if I understood you correctly, Edward," Lord Isaac Algernon frowned as he put his hands together and pressed them to lips, his elbows resting on the surface of the office table. "Do you mean to tell me that the benevolent investor you attracted for our mill—the investor our secondary eastern Portsmouth mill branch depends upon—is Mr Frank Templemore, the son of The Countess of Brockenhurst, and now he happens to be the blood related cousin of the lady you insulted with your undignified exchange in the comfort of this office because of your poor treatment of her uncle who is in our employ?"

Lord Edward Buxton ran a hand through his hair as he paced about in the office, frustration taking holds of him, palms sweaty.

"Don't—don't say it like that." He hated the sound of it, the rush of anger and regret that churned inside him now. 

Lady Diana Beaumont's words rang in his ears. That day when they had argued in his office, she had said something about the tables turning. And much to Edward's surprise, her words had decidedly come true. It seemed to him now that perhaps the universe in his periphery had sided with her too. 

Isaac scoffed. "We may as well lose the hope entirely for this particular investor. I knew your behavior would cost us more than the ladies' favor, and I was right, the situation has now become more personal and financial."
 
Edward let out an angry groan as he slammed both of his hands on the table, facing his friend. "For crying out loud, this cannot be a consequence of trying to manage my own employees. I cannot be losing an investment for their sake!" 

He was still in denial, thoughts in his mind scattered as he tried to find something in there to grip at, to hold on to. And suddenly, he found a hold. "Lady Beaumont cannot divert her cousin from this investment." 

"What, are you to pull out the uncle card now?" Isaac sighed, his hand rubbing his forehead. 

"Why must I pull it out when it is already on the table," Came the murmured response, and the former instantly looked at his friend, shocked, alarmed, as though he had yet had hope for a dignified outcome.  

"You can't be serious," Isaac chastised, his eyes bearing into Edward's.

"I spoke to him, that day after she left the office," Edward asserted, turning towards his partner, "Mr Fleming is a proud man, and she knows it. He cannot just be extorted and convinced against an independent working life just because his niece commands it. He works hard, accepts the pay he gets and stays here. If he had had other options, he would've left. Clearly a life in Southampton with his wealthy sisters and extended family isn't to his taste. His circumstance has made him a card, Isaac, and if Lady Beaumont intends to play, I will put up a good fight."

Isaac turned away, fuming. His hands fisted so tightly he feared his knuckles would explode. "This is an abhorrently undignified thing to do, and you know it. You will make us stoop low, lower than the likes of that—that scoundrel." 

Edward sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of the man. He shut his eyes tight. "I am willing to stoop lower for this investment for the sake of everyone in my employ, and you know it." 

A silence ensued, one that Isaac did not feel inclined to break, yet his thoughts weighed him down.

"Just weeks ago we were practically courting them," He let out, his eyes fixed on his shoes, hands pinned behind his back, talking more to himself than to his friend. 

Lord Edward Buxton stilled at the audible admittance of it. None of the men had actually confessed the nature of their interest to each other. None of them had labelled their attentions to the ladies, and now Isaac had. 

"Those tables have turned." The words left Edward's mouth, harsh and plain. 

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Lord Oscar Seymour was long overdue for a sensible outing in society. It seemed to him that with two of his cousins being gone, the Southampton society had practically quietened down. No balls, no celebratory occasions, merely invitations to pay mindless calls by eager ladies and their mothers nagged at the back of his mind. As he walked along the countryside under the soft sunny sky in the morning, his mind drifted to his sister, Lady Rebecca Seymour's engagement.

Mansfield estate had been full to the brim with excitement, mostly his mother's, who has had her hands full planning the engagement ball that was due as soon as Lady Diana Beaumont and Lady Alicia Kirkpatrick returned from Portsmouth. But Oscar was the least excited, perhaps the only thing he was excited about was the wedding, he would finally be able to breathe after Rebecca left Mansfield estate, God knows he would do well to get rid of her and her emotional fits every time she was cornered. She never was the one to remain steady under pressure.

"Oscar, why, is this a surprise!" 

Suddenly a sharp female voice ripped through his thoughts and startled him as he instantly cleared his throat and straightened himself. Only to turn to come face to face with the rector's daughter. Jessie Churchill, with her hem six inches deep in mud, her simple bonnet perched atop the nest of her messy ginger do, her gloveless hands splotched with dirt clutching a basket full of blueberries, as she faced Oscar with a beaming smile on her face.

Oscar scrunched up his nose in a grimace as he debated on what remark based on her improprieties, the list making his head spin, should he convey to her first. 

"Miss Churchill, please refrain from using my Christian name to address me," He let out, deciding on pointing out the top most improper thing. Out of all the annoying ladies of Southampton that he could've encountered at this very moment, why did it have to be her?

"Oh," Jessie chuckled, letting go of her basket with one hand, only to use the dirty palm to rest on her lips as she covered her chuckle in an attempt to appear modest. "I apologize. It is just that Diana and Alicia call you Oscar so often that it just slipped from my mouth."

"They are my cousins," Oscar noted, his tone hard. "You, on the other hand, are not."

Then he shifted to put a safer distance between him and his correspondent, being cautious of people passing by.

"I wish I was," Jessie gushed suddenly, her beaming smile not once faltering.

"Pardon?"

"Oh, I only meant that I wish I had cousins like yours," Jessie explained, a blush heating up to her cheeks as she realized how her words had come out. "You're all just one big family despite Alicia and Diana telling me how immature and stubborn you are sometimes, but there's this deep element love and respect you know, between all of you and I sense it. I just wish I had that within my family, but I've got no cousins to be nice to or to talk about behind their backs."

"Excuse me?" Oscar let out almost losing balance on his feet. "Diana and Alicia think I am immature and stubborn?"

Miss Jessie Churchill frowned as she realized that after all that she had spoken, it was only the part about him that got his attention, then she gasped as she realized just what that part was.

"I shouldn't have said that," She faltered, nervously chuckling. "It just slipped." 

Oscar stifled a frustrated groan and pursed his lips. It won't do for his cousins to be talking behind his back to people such as Miss Churchill. Who knows how many other people know about his alleged faults of character courtesy of Diana and Alicia. He simply won't have people like her, he observed his current correspondent who was now shuffling awkwardly, her gaze on her feet, talking unfavorably about him.

"And you believed it?" He finally spoke, with careful consideration. Surely Diana and Alicia's words aren't set in stone for everyone to believe just like that.

"I think so," Jessie shrugged, "Why would Alicia and Diana lie about such a thing?"

Oscar let out a scoff, tired of this conversation that apparently seemed to be going nowhere.

"Did the rector send you here? No doubt he spotted me on my walk and rushed back to get you from whatever it was that you were busy with."

"No, father is at the rectory and I was just picking berries to make something for dinner when I spotted you," Jessie Churchill responded, unbothered by the way he snapped at her, "Look Oscar, if this is about the immature and stubborn remark then—"

"Good god, I am not immature and stubborn," Oscar let out, frustration evident in his tone.

"Alright.." Jessie trailed, far from convinced. "I haven't been in your company before Oscar, so that is why I believed Diana and Alicia. Maybe if we had spent some time together, conversing, then I would've seen it for myself that you indeed are, or are not, immature and stubborn as you claim to not be."

Oscar looked at the sky, exhaling in frustration as he silently inquired God of what his mistake had been for Him to not bestow a sign to prophesize this so that Oscar would've heard and remained indoors.

"What I am saying is, if you want to change my mind, that has already established you as such because I trust Diana and Alicia wholeheartedly, then maybe we should spend some time together," Jessie narrated, shifting her gaze from her feet.

It had dawned on Jessie, over the past few weeks, that the man in her future the psychic had predicted, was someone that fit the exact definition of a man like Lord Oscar Seymour. And she was more than willing to find out.

"Pardon?" Oscar snapped, hoping that the words he had just overheard were his mind playing games and nothing else.

"I was saying, Oscar, that—"

"Would you quit using my Christian name? I am Lord Seymour to you," He let out in frustration, his gloved fingers fixing his cravat in annoyance.

"Alright," Jessie answered quietly, his constant rudeness taking a toll on her.

"Good, it is settled then," Oscar sighed, straightening himself and getting ready to be on his way.

Finally he won't have to hear his Christian name on her lips again. He couldn't imagine what everyone would think of her calling him that like they both were some well acquainted friends or worse, in midst of a courtship.

"Really?" Jessie asked curiously.

"Yes," Oscar replied with narrow eyes, questioning her intelligence at present more than he had ever had to.

"Great! Come by at the rectory any time later this week and we will begin our proper acquaintance," Miss Jessie Churchill smiled happily, before curtsying and skipping off past Oscar and down the path.

"What?" Oscar asked himself as he watched Jessie Churchill's figure disappear down the path.

Did she just invite him to the rectory? Surely she hadn't the audacity, it must be the wind playing tricks with the words that reached his ears. Then shrugging nonchalantly, he continued on his way in an opposite direction.