VIVIENNE CHEWED THE piece of meat slowly, aware of the tension in the room. How she wished that she could have taken her meal in her room, rather than face this smog of hostility. Earlier in the day, a maid had informed her that her presence was required at dinner tonight, no exceptions. Thus, she had no choice in her dinner companions.

She could feel her aunt's glare from across the table, but she did not engage the countess. No, instead she focused on finishing her meal as quickly as possible and then fleeing the room—perhaps forever.

"Mr. Eastoff withdrew his offer," her uncle said gruffly.

Vivienne's fingers paused at the stem of the wine glass. "Is that so," she said conversationally. She hid a smile, immensely pleased as to how she had dealt with this morning's antiques.

"Do not smile," Lady Westmorland said crossly. "He was wealthy enough and would have made for a decent husband."

Vivienne's eyes snapped to her, and she let the anger she normally kept at bay show. "He was old enough to be my father not to mention he accosted me the gardens!"

She saw her uncle stiffen and it surprised her. He had not shown much indication during her stay that he cared for her.

Her aunt, meanwhile, did not relent, her face flush with colour from the wine she'd been drinking. "It would have been fine eventually; he would have died soon enough, and you'd have been a wealthy widow."

"Priscilla," the earl snapped. "That is enough."

The countess opened her mouth to retaliate but whatever she had seen in her husband's eyes made her close her mouth. Admonished, she turned back to her plate. Meanwhile, her uncle coughed slightly, not exactly meeting Vivienne's gaze. "The reason we wanted for you to join us was we have arrived at a potential solution for your dilemma."

Vivienne merely raised an eyebrow, indicating that she was listening.

"The scandal will die down, but it shall take some time. I have secured passage for you to Italy. There is a small house that Priscilla's sister owns, and she has agreed to have you spend the rest of the season there. Come next spring, there will be a different scandal for society to latch onto and everything will return to normal."

"Italy?" Vivienne said in shock. "But I do not know any Italian..."

"You can still survive. My sister didn't speak an ounce of the language either before moving."

It was not a ringing endorsement but then again, she had not expected anything more from Lady Westmorland. The more she thought about it, made her feel like it was the most appropriate solution. She was no longer having a pleasant time in London. Italy would take her away from this blasted house where nobody wanted her. However, she did not know what to expect from the countess' sister either. Vivienne briefly glanced around the room, and she knew her heart was set. Anything was better than spending her time here, where people snickered and whispered about her everywhere.

"I'll go," she said softly in resignation.

Her uncle nodded, but she saw the satisfied look upon her aunt's face. The countess could not wait to get rid of her. "That's wonderful to hear dear. Do ask the servants to begin packing as the ship leaves in two days time."

"Two days?" Vivienne choked out, looking at her uncle for support. She had been expecting more time to become acclimated to the idea.

He merely gave her a small shrug. "The next ship that sails to Italy after that will be in three weeks time."

Vivienne nodded, understanding the sentiment of her aunt and uncle perfectly. They could not tolerate to have her in the house for more than a fortnight. It seemed like all the preparations had been made prior to her knowledge. She looked at her aunt, it had been clever of them to present the proposal as an option, rather than a command. Nevertheless, she would be out of here in a couple of days, and that is all the mattered. Freedom was so close; she could almost taste it.

***

Vivienne stared at the portrait of her parents and a bittersweet feeling arose within her. Although this had once been her parent's home, she never felt the same. Now, she was leaving to travel to a place that was many moons away and she did not know if she would ever return. She had tried her best to forge a connection to her parent's residence but had failed. Vivienne was ashamed to admit that Chalcott manor held fonder memories than this place.

"I heard you're leaving."

Vivienne's chest rose for a fraction of a second in alarm before she realized it was Grayson. It seemed that her cousin had a knack for frightening her in this exact spot. She turned to her cousin, raising an eyebrow, "Shouldn't you be with your governess at this moment?"

Grayson shrugged his shoulders, before his green eyes pierced hers. They were not the exact same shade as hers, but a tinge darker. "Are you truly sailing away?"

Vivienne nodded, "I'll be leaving to Italy in a bit. You won't have to share your space with me anymore."

The boy did not look amused or jubilant as Vivienne expected. Instead, tears gathered in the corner of his eyes, "Why are you leaving me? I will promise to never place toads in your bed again. I'll be a good boy."

Alarm and sadness rang through Vivienne's body. She knelt on the carpet, not giving a single damn about her dress. She would be leaving soon anyways. "My departure has nothing to do with you Grayson," she said. "I merely wanted to explore the world a bit, but I'll be back."

Vivienne was stretching the truth quite a bit. She did not know if her aunt an uncle would even let her return, and the last thing she wanted to do was cause harm to her cousin. "You'll be fine without me."

Grayson crossed his arms his shirt wrinkling at the gesture. "No, I won't," he wailed the tears still dripping down his cheeks. "You were my only friend!"

Vivienne felt her own tears prickling in her eyes, but she merely grabbed her cousin in a tight hug. "You'll make plenty of friends soon Grayson, and then you'll forget about this old lady right here."

Grayson's chest continued to heave but his sobs lessened. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted Millie walking to her with a solemn expression. She knew it was time for her to leave. She gently untangled Grayson's arms from around her neck, giving her cousin a watery smile. "Be good to your governess," she said, ruffling his brown hair. "I'll see you soon and maybe by then, you'll be taller than me."

Grayson let out a small laugh, giving Vivienne the strength to walk away. Millie watched her with a concerned look on her face, "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

Vivienne did not glance back at the portrait of her parents, but she nodded at her lady's maid, "Yes, there are no other option."

She did not miss the melancholy smile upon Millie's face but nevertheless, her maid walked with her down the stairs one last time. Before they entered the main entryway, Vivienne pulled Millie into a tight hug, "I'll miss you," she whispered. "Thank you for being my friend, even if it was for a short while."

Her lady's maid did not cry but she saw the sorrow upon her face. Selfishly, Vivienne had wanted to take Millie with her, but Lady Westmorland had forbidden it, stating cryptically that she would not require a lady's maid in her new home. "I did what you asked of me," Millie said in parting. "The butler sent the missive yesterday."

Vivienne bobbed her head, thanking the lady's maid once more. She had sent out missives to Fiona, James, and Lady Torrington, letting them know where she was headed. At the last moment, she had also sent a note to Mrs. Shrine back at Chalcott manor, asking her to look after Ginger. Vivienne was sure that the cat would like the open fields at the duke's country home more than a ship.

"I wish you a safe journey. I'm sure it will be much sunnier than London," her lady's maid said with a parting smile.

Vivienne did not linger any longer as she rounded the corner and made eye-contact with her aunt. She saw the smug smile upon the lady's face, she could not wait to get rid of her already. Nevertheless, Vivienne would not let her spoil the mood.

"The carriage is waiting outside for you," her aunt stiff lips barely moved. "I'm sure my sister will take apt care of you."

Vivienne would not swoop as low as her aunt had done. Pasting on a smile she turned to the lady, "Be well, Lady Westmorland."

With that, she turned away from the house. Taking one last look at the townhome, her lips curled upward. Good riddance, she was finally free.

***

Vivienne felt the breeze loosen strands of her hair, and she clutched her bonnet to keep it upon her head. All around her, there was the bustling of activity on the London docks. She had not known what to expect when their carriage arrived in the midst of the bustle. Her eyes remained wide opened as she watched men and boys haul items off ships and into large buildings.

Her gaze lingered upon her uncle who was pacing a short distance away from her. She was not sure, but there was almost a nervous energy around him. As if seeing her gaze upon him, he stopped short leaning against his silver walking cane. "Are you sure that he said he would be coming? Lennox is a busy man; it is possible that it slipped out of his mind."

Vivienne pasted on a smile, "I'm sure he wouldn't want me to leave without saying goodbye. Is it alright if we wait a bit longer?"

Her uncle pulled out a golden pocket watch, glancing at the time. He looked around the busy port before sighing, "A quarter of an hour is the most we can delay and not a second longer."

Vivienne nodded and gave a small smile in gratitude. Her uncle began pacing again but Vivienne's eyes remained on the street leading up to the port. James had to come, didn't he? She had sent the letter informing him of her departure and a wish to say goodbye before she left for Italy.

Her foolish heart hoped to see the duke one last time. Maybe she would be finally free of the ache in her chest when she let him go. The minutes ticked by, but it seemed longer than that. Vivienne's fingers tightened by her side. It did not seem as though the duke would be coming after all. She did not know why she had expected him to do so. He was a busy gentleman, and in his own words, had set her free. It was her who was still struggling and holding onto the past. She caught the eye of one of the young boys working at the dock. He grinned at her, and Vivienne was taken aback by the friendless of his gaze.

"Vivienne," her uncle said sharply.

She spun around, to see her uncle walking briskly towards her. His eyes were wide, hair disheveled from running his fingers through it mercilessly. "We need to leave now."

She nodded, and began walking towards him, but he grasped her hand, looking left and right, "Walk faster" he commanded.

Vivienne did not understand the rush but let her uncle drag her towards a small ship. She could feel his muscles tense, as he manoeuvred them around the people in the docks. He was surprisingly agile, even with his walking stick. Eventually, they reached the far end where the crowd had thinned, leaving a small lone ship docked there.

"Is this it?" she asked, it looked rather small for a ship that was heading towards Italy. The sails were out, and the deck was visible, but Vivienne had expected it to look more like the massive cargo ships she had seen at the front of the docks.

Before her uncle could answer, a portly man with a scruffy beard appeared onto the deck. "Already time to depart my lord?"

Her uncle nodded stiffly. A plank of wood had been laid leading up to the deck of the vessel. Vivienne eyed it wearily as her uncle slowly ascended with his walking cane in tow. She followed in suit, the man extending his hand and Vivienne accepting it. 

Vivienne looked up at the uncle, confusion on her face. "What is going on? I didn't think you were going to be departing to Italy with me."

Her uncle ignored her question, instead he turned back to the man, "Sail now, and do not stop until I command you to do so."

The man, whom Vivienne assumed was the captain, nodded. Her uncle continued walking and Vivienne mutely followed him. They went down a set of stairs, to a narrow hallway. Her uncle pushed open the last door, leading to a to a dimly lit room. It seemed quite different from the accommodations Vivienne expected on a ship heading to Italy. There were crates stacked on one side of the room and a messy cot on the other. A measly looking table held the rooms only candle and a few morsels of food.

Vivienne frowned at the observations. Her uncle walked behind her and shut the heavy door before latching the lock. Her eyes struggle to adjust as only a small porthole allowed the sunlight to stream in. She was vaguely aware of her uncle moving around the room muttering, and she could only make out a few words.

"What is going on?" she asked. Something about this entire journey did not seem right. Why were their no other guests? And why was her uncle accompanying her when he had his family to look after?

"It must be here," Lord Westmorland said in a louder tone, moving away some of the crates. They crashed to the side, but her uncle paid no heed.

The ship lurched forward in motion and Vivienne knew they were sailing now. Her fingers grasped the nearest wall to prevent herself from falling. Ahead, she saw a few of the crates slide but her uncle effectively pushed them away. His fingers dug into the wood, and he pried one of them open, a satisfied look upon his face at whatever he had found.

Vivienne paled, and swallowed the bile that gathered in her throat as her uncle pulled out a small pistol. Their eyes met, and Vivienne's heart lurched, she was in danger, and she knew it. 

---------------

Vivienne's goodbyes were very sad, James didn't come to see her :( . OMG what just happened? Did any of you guys suspect? What exactly are her uncle's intentions? Not sorry for the cliffhanger ;)