𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒

Chapter 14

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE JOKING," Lord Oscar Seymour hissed, frustration ebbing away at him like a dazed woodpecker. "At the rate you're offering bribes, Jack, we'll be paying a visit to a constable's before we locate your cousin." 

It was morning, and the sun had just risen, though it was no where in sight. The sky was damp in blue, and the snow on the ground and on the multiple rooftops of buildings was a stark shade of blue over the white. 

Portsmouth had welcomed Lord Seymour and Lord Beresford with the promise of a challenge. Getting through the city so far had gotten them stopped twice by rioting men refusing to clear the path ahead to let their vehicle pass. And every time Oscar had ventured to jump off their sledge and attempt to give the bickering workers a piece of his mind, Jack had sprinted ahead with pounds flapping in his hands like minuscule flags. It was Christmas, and the chaos in Portsmouth was unbelievable. Transportation strikes, crowds of protesting workers, shops and outlets banned shut for business— it was as if people couldn't care less what date the calendar sported. 

Lord Jack Beresford tugged at the cravat at his neck hard as he jumped back into the passenger's in the sledge. He rapped harder on the roof, an order for the driver to proceed. The stubborn crowd gathered up ahead dispersed reluctantly as the the reins were yanked and the sledge trudged forwards, crushing through the thick blanket of snow on the ground. 

"If you've got other rational ideas, pray don't keep them to yourself," Jack let out, his steel gaze fixed outside. 

Oscar let out a sigh, both his hands running through his mop of hair. With a start he realized the absence of his top hat, and finding it beside him on the seat, snatched it and topped it on his head swiftly. 

"We're almost at the address," He spoke after a while, his eyes observing his tense friend. "We're close. All this will be over soon." 

Jack let out a harsh scoff. His hard eyes turning to meet Oscar's. 

"You think it will be that easy, do you? Who's to say Aramina's really there? Who's to say we're not on a fucking goose chase being mislead while my cousin suffers elsewhere?" He shouted, the strain making bulging veins in his neck visible. "There's a rector's daughter pretending to her at Wycombe like this is all some sick game that everyone else is benefitting off of except me and my family." 

"Do you suggest my cousin is deliberately misleading us?" Oscar raised his voice, the very idea of the belief atrociously infuriating. "She's helping us when she doesn't have to. Diana does not even know Lady Embry, yet she goes out of her way to secure for us a possible address. Miss Churchill has been selflessly making sure your mother doesn't suffer with the knowledge of her niece's disappearance. Lord Buxton is keeping track of the little transportation that is going out of the city. Neither of them know your cousin. And me? For God's sake man, I have ditched everything of my life in Southampton to aid you. And you believe we're benefitting off of all this?" 

Jack looked away, eyes red and palms curled into tight fists that made his knuckles white. 

"You're right," He spoke after a pause, voice low and defeated. "You're right. I apologize." 

Oscar looked away too, no longer possessing the immediate will to converse with his friend when he was in such of state of denial. It was understandable, this condition of his. People forgot easily that they have aid when they are in the thick of trouble. It's easy to belief you're alone when you're not. 

Thankfully, without any more stops, the sledge came to a halt. Jack and Oscar tumbled out, their recent scrimmage forgotten in the wake of the possibility of their mutual goals. Before them stood a rundown abandoned building. Oscar could tell from the edges of darkened wood that the place had been victim to an old fire. Snow had piled into every open crevice and dark broken window sills and askew roofs. Remnants of old battered storage wooden boxes littered the place.