𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒

Chapter 20

"SO NICE OF YOU TO JOIN OUR party at Rosenfield, Lord Seymour," The Lady Beresford mused as the new arrival to their gathering had seated himself in the drawing room. "Any friend of my niece's is surely a friend of mine." 

Oscar Seymour's lips formed an obliged smile, and his gaze wandered over to Jessie Churchill, who was seated near to the Viscount. Their eyes met, and a strange spark jolted in her. For a moment, it wiped Jessie's thoughts clean, as though her head was nothing but a plate of dessert now shining and empty. He hadn't looked at her until now, as though he had seen her in his periphery but wanted to wait to acknowledge her. He had seemed quite skittish, his eyes were kind of anxious, as though instead of Jessie, he was worrying that he'd be the one to give their entire ploy away. 

He didn't look different, Jessie had come to assume that his quest in Portsmouth, ever since his departure from Wycombe would've changed him somehow. Not entirely, of course, because that would be a ridiculous thing to assume. And it would appear that she had been correct, for Oscar Seymour didn't carry that degree of restlessness and that strict stolidity with him now. Or perhaps he had just become an expert at masking it. 

Jessie imagined that perhaps it had been Diana's doing, for she was known often to bring her cousin to his senses. Though Jessie wasn't sure he had ever lost them. But then again, she hadn't ever much thought wrongly of the gentleman, no matter how some of his attentions had deliberately hurt. 

Oscar quickly broke the eye contact, and felt a hollowness cascade inside her. Had she done something wrong? The fact was that Jessie had come to despise that question. She just needed to keep the trust she had somehow garnered in herself, going. She couldn't let it crumble now. The Lady Beresford remained oblivious, and the Viscount and his mother believed her to be the only Lady Embry. Jessie had kept the belief Oscar had placed in her, despite how hard it had been. If there was something bothering Oscar Seymour at present, it could not be this. 

"So, Lord Seymour," The Viscount Graham spoke, his voice raising itself to meet the gentleman's ears where once he had been softer while conversing with Jessie. "Do you happen to pass by Rosenfield much, or has Lady Embry never extended this invitation before?" 

It was an impolite question, and Jessie stiffened slightly at the voicing of it. 

Oscar cleared his throat, and Jessie found herself watching him with bated breath as though she had never wanted anyone else to speak anything the way she wanted him to. 

"I don't actually," He started, his voice as levelled and firm as it had always been public, "My affairs keep me in Southampton. Lady Embry has extended her invitation to me before, but surprisingly never at Rosenfield." Oscar's tone shifted to a frank one, and if Jessie wasn't so sure, she'd believe Lady Embry and Oscar had been friends for long.

"We were at Wycombe before Christmas recently," He added, glancing briefly at Jessie before looking back at the Viscount. "It is always a pleasant time when Lady Embry is around." 

"At Wycombe?" The Lady Beresford asked curiously, "I take it Jack had been there too when you visited, Lord Seymour?" 

"He was," Oscar nodded in her direction. 

"Then he was off immediately after you left," The lady continued, distaste lacing her tone as her lips twisted, "Leaving his wife moping about the house. Oh, men can be such vagabonds. I didn't realize my son would turn out to be one." 

An awkward silence ensued at the statement, as guests lifted shaky cups to their lips sipping tea anxiously. Jessie was thankful for tea then, it had been discreetly brought and served amongst conversation and she now held her china cup for dear life. A clatter sounded suddenly and every iris in the room pranced onto the source.