𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒

Chapter 1

THE CHURCH BELLS RANG OUT, echoing through the parish and rolling off the hills, getting softer the further they were heard. Winter had come; the snow had begun to cover the ground as though it were a thick cream blanket, embracing the grass and all the wildflowers that lay with it in its cold embrace, as though protecting them. The parishioners scuttled inside the church, families huddling together as if to preserve the warmth.

The church hadn't always been the coziest of places, just like it wasn't so at present, with some of its broken windows, and a door that had spacious ridges, welcoming the wind in graciously. The people of the parish, however, did not mind the minor inconveniences they had to face for a few hours on an early Sunday morning in such winters. That's of course, what Jessie Churchill and her father presumed. Any complaints or grievances uttered in the comfort of the people's own houses were oblivious to the rector and his daughter's ears.

Jessie Churchill entered the chapel and took a seat in her family's usual pew. It was funny really, why she even referred to it as that. The only family she had was her father, who being the vicar, had no place in the pews.

Miss Jessie Churchill had become used to being alone in a pew. It wasn't always like that, once she'd be joined by her friends, Lady Diana Beaumont and Lady Alicia Kirkpatrick. The ladies, cousins, both of Jessie's age, would, on occasion, keep her company in her pew, but even they had their own families to offer companionship to, especially in a church. Now, however, she'd become used to not seeing their faces in church at all. It had been two years since her friends had married, and now they both called Portsmouth home.

 It had hurt initially, to have people close to her venture off one by one. First her aunt had gone, and then her closest friends.

Jessie breathed in the pine scented air that the church was always infused with. Many people had wondered how, a rector's daughter like her, would've come to have such high acquaintances as Lady Beaumont and Lady Kirkpatrick and hence their families. Upon being inquired of the matter by an elderly woman Jessie had brought homemade apple pie over to, the rector's daughter hadn't known how to answer.

Usually people thought such things, and Jessie was alright with that, but being put in the spot and asked directly of your worth, was a terrifying feeling. It wasn't that Jessie didn't adore Diana and Alicia, she always had. She had grown up with them, they were both so refined, and she often thought she could better herself in their company.

But the truth was, Jessie was never like them, and she could never be so. Which was why they had their own lives elsewhere now, and which was why Jessie was still here. In this sleepy and quiet, yet cheerful and eventful county. She always assumed that the cheerful and eventful part wasn't really for her, despite how much she wanted it to be.

She glanced at her father, who stood standing up front, smiling his signature smile and bobbing his head at every parishioner that entered through the door. His smile widened desperately every time he caught the eyes of an eligible parish gentleman, making Jessie sigh and shake her head. She was three and twenty, still a few years away, and the way her father carried on about her lack of suitors and behaved as though she'd already reached spinsterhood, irritated her. 

Once, three years ago, she was sure spinsterhood would never befall her. She had been in love, she had known what it felt like, but it was ripped away as fast as it had come. Mr Churchill, in his fine form, craned his neck to observe the entire Sunday crowd at the humble church, and suddenly, Jessie saw his eyes light up as his smiled dimmed in a glad sort of way. Her stomach knotted up and she felt as though she had suddenly swallowed ice. The rector had, on account of the failed courtship three years ago, much to Jessie Churchill's dismay, set himself on a mission to find her a suitor. And much to more of his daughter's dismay, the rector already had a strong candidate.

Jessie wasn't sure if the term a strong candidate, should be used for a gentlemen who would mistake her for wallpaper even if she were the only person in the room. He was well above and beyond her station, and he clearly preferred ladies that weren't lowly daughters of rectors. It had become a cruel trick of nature, when Jessie had found herself admiring the gentleman from afar as well. It was customary for her, that her father show an interest in gentlemen that didn't garner Jessie's own interests; it was less awkward and bothering that way.

She breathed in the cold crisp air deeply and forced herself to not turn around and steal a glance. She was sure it was him who had entered, resulting in the all too familiar look her father sported around him. Jessie heard his mother's voice amidst all the chatter from the parishioners. The lady Margaret Seymour was commenting on an unfashionable exchange she had had with either her tailor or a hat maker, Jessie couldn't tell. Her displeasure was about some trimmings though, whether the trimmings were in regards to a dress or a bonnet, Jessie couldn't figure. It made a her a little ashamed as a bit of color rushed to her cheeks, any other lady her age would be fluent in that sort of thing.

Lady Seymour did not like Jessie, and that was for sure. Despite how unorthodox Jessie might be in her preferences and opinions about things, she wasn't a fool. She could tell by the lady's disapproving glances that Jessie was not welcome to her youngest son, a gentleman that looked like a valuable trophy and made Jessie feel like a withered flower were she to stand next to him. It had all began as a mere fancy those two years ago, when Lady Diana Beaumont and Lady Alicia Kirkpatrick were still around. Lady Seymour, their aunt, had been particularly kind to her. Something that changed entirely once her father had begun to make his intentions known to her son. Jessie wished with all her might that he hadn't done that, but somehow she knew if time were to rewind, her father would go on to do exactly the same things he had done before.

"Ah, Lord Oscar Seymour, Lady Seymour," The rector gushed as he stepped down and rushed towards the family, with other families in the pews turning to look at him in surprise, "What a delight to see you here."

"We're here every Sunday," A different voice than of the ones who were addressed spoke up, and Lord Adam Seymour's amused face appeared right behind that of his mother and younger brother's, "I'm sure it must be a delight every time."

"Oh, it is, it is," The rector stumbled to speak, ashamed of having missed the older Seymour brother. Then gulping away his reluctance and putting on his wide smile, the rector motioned towards Jessie, and her heart immediately stilled as she turned back to face up front.

"My daughter thinks it is a delight too. After all, church isn't the usual without the important families," The Mr Churchill completed.

Lady Seymour huffed slightly, mustering up a small smile towards the beaming vicar.

"I don't see Lord Seymour, is your husband indisposed, my lady?" Mr Churchill inquired, his eyes shining brightly as he clutching his prayer book tightly against his chest.

"He is in Portsmouth, visiting my daughter and her husband," Lady Seymour responded briefly. She looked annoyed at being forced into a conversation she knew was going to be lengthy, this early in the morning. Jessie Churchill begged and prayed that her father would just back away and begin the sermon, because every word he spoke with the family was tugging at her heart in embarrassment. It was agonizing watching your own father incessantly try to secure a hopeless match, it all made her feel stupid.

"Ah, I see," The rector responded, "And how is dear Lady Rebecca Seymour?"

"My sister is well, Mr Churchill, thank you for inquiring. Now if you will please excuse us," Lord Oscar Seymour finally spoke, nodding his head once and motioning for his mother to walk ahead towards their pews.

Jessie Churchill turned to look at him. His voice did unfathomable things to her insides. It was deep, and stern, and yet she felt as though she could listen to it all day. He looked as handsome as he always looked, so much so that he turned gentlemen's heads as well as ladies', every time he passed by. Jessie was sure they were all envious of his perfectly tied cravats, and suits polished to the heavens. His was like the Beau Brummell of Southampton, but only in his looks. His short black hair was ruffled to perfection, and his dark eyes were focused as he sat next to his mother on a pew to the left and far back from where Jessie sat. She craned her neck to look, she hadn't meant to, but her eyes wouldn't listen.

He smiled at something his elder brother had said, and then he resorted to punch Adam Seymour's arm in a teasing manner. Jessie smiled. She loved this side of him, the side where his guard was down. But it wasn't a side she was allowed to see, it was never the side she was meant to see, for Oscar Seymour was as cold with her as a baron might treat his cook. She was nothing to him, but strangely, through her father's constant persistence, and through the accord of her own heart, he'd become everything to her. She remembered how envious she'd been of her friends Lady Diana Beaumont and Lady Alicia Kirkpatrick when they'd converse with Lord Oscar Seymour so naturally. They'd humor him, and laugh at his words in turn. So casually and so naturally. They were cousins after all, it was natural. But it didn't seem fair when Jessie Churchill would be the only tongue tied one. His coldness was reserved for her, not for them.

As her father's sermon began, Jessie tried to focus on his words, but they were all a blur against the cold thoughts of her mind. Two years ago, when Diana and Alicia were in Southampton, Jessie Churchill had received a prophecy from a psychic at the county fair; 'I see a man in your future, completely opposite to your disposition. He is tall, not quite smart, but refined. He will try to change you, and you will try to change him. It may or may not work out, but he is the only man I see in your future.'

It was stupid to dwell on a prophecy from a strange woman who might as well have said all that for a laugh. But those two years ago, the words had struck Jessie and she had sought to find the person that fit the description. It was how she had settled on Lord Oscar Seymour, Diana and Alicia's witty and charming cousin, the youngest Seymour son. He had been of two and twenty those two years ago, he had been two and twenty when she had first started to set her heart and expectations on him.

Ever since her friends married and left, there was no one inquiring for Jessie Churchill's company at their estates. It was the friendship with the ladies that had made Jessie's involvement with the family natural. The two years had gone by in a blur of dashed expectations, with Jessie only being awarded a glance of Oscar Seymour every time he came to church. She had taught herself that it was enough, since, what she had foolishly envisioned could never happen.

After the service, Jessie Churchill stood by her father outside as the parishioners lined up to give their greeting to their Pastor. They would occasionally nod at Jessie and smile at her, some would compliment her on how well she looked, and Jessie would thank them in return. People tended to like her best when her hem wasn't six inches deep in mud as she frolicked about the countryside picking berries for pies to make for supper, at least that was what her father had constantly told her. 

This was why Jessie knew she was different; it was in those things alone that she found acceptance and comfort. It was when the wind would gently caress her face and turn her hair into a wild mess, it was when the wind was so strong she'd feel as though she couldn't breathe, it was when it was pouring outside and Jessie would let the rain drench her entirely, it was in all those moments that she found acceptance and comfort.

"Did you see Lord Oscar Seymour look over at you during the last hymn? I saw it rather clearly. I dare say, I am glad I let the maid fetch a new Sunday bonnet for you," The rector whispered to his daughter, smiling in content.

Jessie's heart stilled for a second, before she relaxed herself. Her father was known to have said a dozen similar things to her, and all of them Jessie had found to be slightly exaggerated.

As families greeted her father and then passed them by, The Seymour family finally approached and Jessie Churchill commanded her heart to into obedience. Putting on a small smile, her eyes went to her feet, her shoes halfway buried in the thick carpet of snow. This was how she'd properly see him and hear him talk. All those two years, every Sunday after the service. There was no before and no after. Jessie used to look forward to after service greetings, but when something comes to nothing, one surely must get tired.

"Wonderful sermon, Mr Churchill," Adam Seymour offered, his hand tied behind his back as he sported a smile.

"Yes," Oscar Seymour joined in, and Jessie's eyes shot towards him, "I do hope the alms boxes have been made full."

"Indeed they were," The rector beamed.

"Delightful," Lady Seymour smiled. Jessie looked at her, she seemed much rejuvenated since before the service. Jessie figured her father's words did tend to have the effect, but then again, she herself had been completely distracted for this particular service.

"And how are you, Miss Churchill?" Lady Seymour implied, her eyes observing Jessie. Jessie gave her a small smile, as was customary. Lady Seymour always inquired of Jessie's health at after service greetings, and Jessie always smiled and responded the same way.

"I am well, my lady, thank you for asking."

"That is good to hear," came the expected response. Jessie found herself breathe a small sigh of relief. This was usually the part where the family bade their good wishes and departed.

"Say, Mr Churchill. I should like to invite your daughter over for dinner at our manor," The Lady Seymour spoke up, surprising both Jessie and her father as they both looked at the lady in confusion.

It seemed that Oscar Seymour had been kept in the dark about his mother's plans as well, as he too cast his mother a shocked glance, his smile dimming. Adam Seymour, though, had that same amused expression on his round face, and Jessie couldn't tell if the same injustice had been done to him or not.

Mr Churchill's lips parted but words failed to cooperate. Jessie could tell that he wanted to inquire after the occasion, but did not know how to.

"It has been a while since she's been in our company. She is so dear to both my nieces. I shall send over a card later today," Lady Seymour smiled, a smile both genuine and practiced that Jessie couldn't tell if it was real or not.

"Why, that is good of you, my lady," The rector managed in between breaths as he smiled in disbelief.

"I suppose so," The lady mused, "We shall be expecting her then. Good day."

With that, the Seymour family departed, and Jessie Churchill looked after them in disbelief. Lord Oscar Seymour sported a conflicted expression on his face as he inquired something of his mother, his words inaudible to Jessie. Lady Seymour lifted her hand and spoke some words of dismissal, making her youngest son frown in defeat as they all mounted the black carriage that stood waiting for them in the snow. Jessie didn't know, at that moment, whether to have hope or not. With the way her heart was pounding, she knew she still had hope, however little it was.