VIVIENNE TOOK A bite of the pastry, swallowing the morsel of food. Across from her, Lady Westmorland demurely ate her breakfast, avoiding Vivienne's gaze and instead fixing it upon the column she was reading. The head of the table remained empty. Her uncle did not join them for meals often, it seemed like he was quite the busy man.

Over the last few weeks, they had settled into a sort of a routine. Lady Westmorland would eat her breakfast while reading, and Vivienne would remain silent and leave as soon as she was finished. Vivienne did not know what her aunt read and did not bother asking—it was unlikely for her to share it anyways.

The days were getting repetitive, as there was not much for her to do—or the more accurate statement would be there was not much Lady Westmorland let her do. The occasional disruption in her routine came in the way of her cousin, Grayson. He still had not warmed up to her, but they had come to a standstill. He was no longer placing toads or other peculiar items in her room, and she no longer divulged his hiding spots to his governess when she came looking.

Finishing off her pastry, she stood up and walked towards the archway. Just as she was leaving, a sharp voice stopped her, "you girl."

Vivienne spun around, assuming correctly that her aunt was referring to her as it could not have been one of the footmen.

"Yes?" she asked politely.

"What have you done," she seethed, anger apparent in her eyes. Her fingers were curled tightly across the paper, causing creases in the normally straight parchment.

"I do not know what you speak of."

"You think me a fool?" Her aunt stood up and walked over to Vivienne, the paper flying around in her hand. Clearly, whatever had gotten her aunt in such a fit was in that paper.

"If you would let me see what you speak of, then I could either agree or disagree with the accusation you throw my way." Vivienne said evenly.

Lady Westmorland thrust the paper towards her, and Vivienne took it, quickly reading the passage that had her aunt in such a fit.

Dear Reader,

Today's story is a riveting one about one lady's journey from riches to rags, and then riches again. Might I say, it is quite the tale and is sure to shake a few feathers of the ton. We've seen Lady Vivienne dancing around in society all season, but the secrets she hid may put a damper on the allure she provided to plenty of gentlemen. For a source has come forth revealing how she arrived into society in the first place. This lady has discovered that not only was Lady Vivienne a completely falsified persona, but she a maid in the Duke of Lennox's manor for quite sometime.

A maid, my dear readers, how absolutely horrid! I must admit my dear readers, I too, was taken aback upon gaining this knowledge. Lady Vivienne duped society quite well, but that is not the end of the tale as it would seem so. According to the same source, it was then revealed that Lady Vivienne is not actually her name, but she is presumed to be Selina, the long-lost daughter of the previous Earl of Westmorland.

This lady has learned that for a couple of weeks now, the lady has been residing in the home of the Earl, who was reunited with his niece after searching for her for quite sometime. However, my dear readers, the question I now pose to you is Lady Selina truly the one at the Earl's home? We've seen the descriptions of the cunning woman and whose to say that she did not taken advantage of a long-lost lady and take on her identity? With this parting note, I rest my case, but the Bow Street Runners might find this story particularly interesting...

Vivienne's hands clenched tightly as her skin went pale. She felt as though she was about to swoon.

"How did this get out?" Vivienne asked, her voice shaking. Only Fiona knew the truth and she was sure her friend had not shared it with anyone. Vivienne shivered upon hearing the last line about Bow Street Runners. Would they come for her and take her away?

Her aunt's eyes narrowed into thin slits, "Are you unable to hear? I asked you the same question moments ago?"

"It wasn't me," Vivienne said furiously. "I wouldn't even know where to go to speak to this person."

Lady Westmorland did not look convinced, "We will wait for Lord Westmorland to come back before discussing any of this. Until then, stay in your room."

"I do that anyways," Vivienne mumbled underneath her breath.

She ran up the stairs, and instead of heading to her room like her aunt ordered she hesitated before spinning and changing her course towards the dark hallway. As usual, there was nobody there, and the carpet absorbed her footsteps. Vivienne stopped in front of the portrait of her parents, tears glistening in her eyes. She felt as though the walls were closing in on her. Everywhere she went, disaster struck. Her life could have been completely different if her parents lived to see their daughter grow.

"Why are you crying?"

Vivienne leapt into the air, clutching her heart as she screamed. Spinning around, she saw that it was Grayson, "You terrified me," she admitted.

He had been hiding behind a statute which is why Vivienne had not spotted him earlier. Dust coated his shirt and shorts, but his bright green eyes peered up at Vivienne and the painting behind her curiously.

"Who is that?"

"Those," Vivienne said clearing her throat, "Were my parents."

Grayson walked closer until he was by her side. "Where are they now?"

She glanced at the boy, taking a moment to wipe her tears away. "They are in heaven, but they look down upon me every now and then."

Her cousin seemed to ponder her words carefully. "How do you know that if you are here? Do you see them?"

"Well—" Vivienne stumbled, over her words. He was right, she did not know. "I am not certain, but I do like to wish it so."

Grayson looked at her suspiciously before he slipped his small hand into hers. She squeezed it and could not stop her lips from curling upwards slightly. Her cousin was not so heartless after all. She did not want to admit it, but she did feel slightly better after speaking with Grayson. They stood together in the hallway for a long-time after, the silence filling up the space between them comfortably.

***

Vivienne dragged her heels as if it would prevent her from entering the ballroom. Beside her, Lady Westmorland hissed, "Walk faster."

She picked up the pace slightly. If anyone would have told her a couple of days ago that Lady Westmorland would allow her to attend a soiree, she would have been extremely delighted. However, after the gossip column, Vivienne no longer wished to be among the ton. She had already seen the wide eyes and hushed whispers as they walked towards the ballroom. Vivienne loathed that she was going to be the object of everyone's attention this evening.

This was all a part of her uncle's carefully crafted plan. Upon his return, he had ordered his wife to secure an invitation for the both of them and be seen in society with nothing but smiles upon their faces. Vivienne scowled, he should have escorted them tonight but in the last minute, he had claimed to be busy with other work for the crown. Lady Westmorland had thrown a fit, but the Earl had simply said his wife's name in a stern tone before ushering them both in the carriage and sending them off.

Vivienne entered the ballroom and immediately there was a defying silence. Dozens of curious eyes turned her way, as if the evenings entertainment had arrived. If she thought the looks outside had been terrible, they were nothing compared to this. She heard the whispers and giggles from beneath the fans of the ladies. She felt her aunt stiffen beside her, and for a moment, Vivienne felt pity that the countess had been dragged into this scandal, but the feelings evaporated rather quickly.

It had not been Vivienne who shared the story, so it must have been someone else, potentially one of the servants. Vivienne had instructed her lady's maid Millie to keep an ear out for any gossip. She knew from her brief time working in the duke's household that servants were very knowledgably. They had information on things even before the masters of the household.

"Lord Melville," Lady Westmorland called to a young man whom Vivienne had not yet been introduced to.

Lord Melville turned around, his gaze fixing upon both of them coolly before he lifted his head and abruptly walked in the other direction. The chilly feeling in Vivienne's stomach grew, they had been given the cut direct from one lord, she expected several others would follow in suit. Beside her, Lady Westmorland fluttered her fan nervously, but it did not hide the red of her cheeks. Her aunt was furious, and for once, it was not with her. Sighing, Vivienne wished she could melt into the floor, and be whisked away from it all. She could not wait for the evening to end.

***

The first thing James did upon entering White's was grab a glass of brandy. His limbs were exhausted from the travel back to London and his mind was frustrated beyond reason. He had truly thought that the safe for the key would be at Chalcott manor, but he had failed. Every single rug had been upturned in his country home—much to the displeasure of Martin, but there was no safe. That meant, it had to be in James' London home, only he did not know where to start his search.

It was time he took a break, as it did him no good to continue his obsession over the damn key. Even now he felt it burning a hole in his pocket. Ignoring the feeling, James settled into one of the tables, nodding at the other gentlemen who looked surprise by his appearance.

"I'll say, this is the last place I expected you to be tonight," Lord Albermay said with a grin.

James shrugged his shoulders, focusing on the cards laid in front of him, "I'm in the mood to win."

"What he means," Cobham said with a smug look at James, "We expected Westmorland to drag you to the soirée tonight, in order to reduce the scandal around his niece. To be frankly honest, she looked like quite the innocent lady, eh? But the most devious chits are always hidden in plain site."

James' fingers froze as he placed down his cards, "Excuse me?" he asked, eyebrow raised. To his knowledge, the earl had not told anyone about Vivienne's connection to him.

"James," his attention moved from his cards and the other lords at the table to see Headfort stalking towards him, grim faced. "Why didn't you tell me?"

James lost all decorum, "What in the devil are you talking about?"

It was Cobham who answered once again, sliding a piece of paper his way, "He means this gossip column."

James did not even begin to ask why the Baron had the gossip column within arms reached but he plucked it from the table and began reading.

"Well, is she really the earl's niece or has the old man gone soft?" Another one of the gentlemen asked.

James stiffened at the accusation. Maybe it was time to clear the air once and for all. After all, news spread through White's almost as fast as society. "Lady Vivienne is Lord Westmorland's niece. And it is true that she did not know of her heritage because she was taken at a young age. But if you or anyone else insinuates anything about the lady's honour, I'll meet you at dawn with Headfort as my second."

His friend paled beside him at the suggestion and the room was filled with silence, the warning clear. Gripping the table, James waited to see who would be brave enough to answer.

As usual, it was nobody.

Sensing the danger in the room, it was Headfort who resumed the conversation joking lightly, "Well now that is clear, shall we continue with vintage-un or play Whistle?"

James gave the Marquess a grateful nod which he returned. He glanced back at his cards, even as his mind drifted away to Vivienne. How at the information gotten out? He did not believe for a second that Vivienne was responsible. He was surprised that everything managed to stay out of the gossip columns for so long. James knew how opportunist people could be.

He sighed, even if he wished to ride to Vivienne's rescue, he needed to stay away. He was aware of the key in his pocket. He should have given it back to her with the necklace, but he had not. Guilt kept him away, which maybe was best for them both. 

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Who do we think released the information about Vivienne? Our poor lady, things just seem to get worse and worse for her. At least she has James keeping an eye from afar.