"I will send out an army to find you
In the middle of the darkest night
It's true, I will rescue you." Lauren Daigle, Rescue

----

XXV.

"In my defence, I did not actually think that she would put pins on the boy's chair."

Grace had arrived at the same time that Jem's post had done, but his sister's angry mood had seemed a little more pressing than the small stack of letters that now sat idly on his small dining table.

Grace folded her arms across her chest and looked at him in the way that only mothers could. She possessed that same disappointed, 'you ought to have known better' glare that Mrs Denham had mastered in Jem's youth. Considering Jem stood more than a foot taller than his eldest sister, Grace knew how to hold herself to make him feel every one of the eleven years between them.

Despite this, however, Jem could not help but find amusement in the situation. And it felt oddly nice to find amusement.

"Perrie is an impressionable child!" Grace protested. "The only reason she did not get the cane is because of who her father is!"

Jem could only imagine how filthy that nemesis boy of Perrie's would be after that! Perrie put pins on his chair and then escaped punishment because she was the child of a duke. She was a marked young lady, for certain. Jem wondered what his revenge would be.

"Grace, if it makes you feel any better, Perrie asked me for helpful hints on how to drown the boy. I would wager you would much prefer this than your nine-year-old being carted off to the gallows for murder, don't you?"

It clearly did not make Grace feel any better. Her blue eyes narrowed. "I'm furious, Jem," she snapped. "I've got her sweeping the kitchens for Mrs Hayes, but she enjoys every bit of the attention she gets from the servants who think her boisterousness is darling. Why did you not tell me any of this? Why did she not?"

"I imagine Perrie did not disclose it as she knew you would have stopped her. I did not say anything because I had meant it as a joke. How was I to know she would actually go through with it? Perrie is just a little bit mad." Quietly though, Jem was proud of his niece. He hoped the boy who called Perrie the 'Little Imp' had a sore rear as well as a bruised ego.

Grace sighed with exasperation, before she murmured, "She reminds me of you, you know."

"Of me?"

"Of how you were when you were a child. Of how you were ... up until a few years ago, really."

"Before I grew up."

"Before you grew up." The anger in Grace's voice seemed to shift as she realised that she was treading on terrain that had not been disturbed in a very long while. They both knew that it was not time that had resulted in Jem's change, in his sudden maturity.

"Then that should give you hope for Perrie."

It was not change, but heartbreak. And Jem could see in his sister's eyes that she did not want that for her daughter.

"Are you alright living out here by yourself, Jem?" Grace's question was entirely loaded with nuances, and she was treading as carefully as she could. She was the first of their family members to do so in a long time.

Jem took a breath and almost retorted, "I'm not alone. I have Mrs Edwards," referencing the housekeeper and cook that kept him alive. He had not meant to sound so defensive.

Grace laughed awkwardly. "Of course. But I do wonder ... might you ever feel the inclination to have a female presence who is not your housekeeper?"

Jem shifted his weight onto his back foot, and he looked away briefly as he composed himself. "I have enough sisters and nieces and a mother who make certain that I am never starved for female company." Jem quickly discovered that he could not touch the subject. His family had not asked about her in years, and now that he was so close to speaking of her, Jem found that he couldn't. He felt that wound so keenly, it being still so fresh and raw, that if Grace poked at it, he would bleed uncontrollably.

Grace seemed to sense this as she nodded in an accepting fashion. "Yes, well, please make sure to direct my daughter to me should she require any more guidance in her homicidal pursuits."

"You have my word," Jem confirmed. Unless Perrie's plans would directly or indirectly cause the death of this nemesis, then Jem would certainly inform his sister. Harmless pranks, however, could stay confidential.

"I had better return to the house and find something more mind-numbing for Perrie to participate in as punishment," Grace mused, clearly thinking of what she could do. "I might have to enlist Cecily's assistance."

Jem farewelled his sister, before closing the door and taking a breath. He suddenly needed to take a moment. And in taking that moment, he wondered if he had secretly wanted Grace to ask. Jem soon abandoned the thought, as he tended to do with any hope that surfaced, and he decided to resume his day.

He would first deal with his correspondence, and then he would return to his study. What was the time? He was a little hungry and wondered how far away luncheon was. Jem approached the table and began flicking through the letters.

Quite a lot of his role as the Land Steward for the Ashwood estate was correspondence with the tenants, and so Jem received word from them quite often. When he reached the final letter in the stack, Jem noticed the hand immediately. He did not need to check for the sender.

"Belle," he mumbled to himself as he turned the letter over, choosing to read that one first. Belle's hand was childlike, but neat and legible despite her occasional spelling mistakes, indicative of a person learning to read and write in adulthood. Jem admired her perseverance, however, and considered his own literacy a blessing. He broke the seal with his finger and unfolded the letter.

Dearest Jem,

I can hardle begin to find the wrds. I can hardle write.

I have resseld with myself and the desishon of wether or not to tell you about this. But I must. I feel that in my heart.

I saw Cressie today. She came to my shop with anuther lady and I culd not beleve my eyes. She has chanjed so much I hardle recogniz her, but it was her, and my heart just new.

She is not safe, and I do not no what to do or how to help. I do not no what you can do ether, but I had to tell you. I will keep an eye on her this season, and I will tri to get her to tell me. But my heart compelld me to tell you to.

I hope this duz not hert you, Jem.

You no we love you.

Yours,

Belle

Jem read over the letter again and again, ensuring that he had understood Belle's words completely. Little mistakes aside, he comprehended her words, and there could be no misunderstanding. Jem's heart completely withered, shattered, and fell from his chest all at once, his blood running cold.

He had come to close to being asked about her not ten minutes earlier when Grace had been standing right here in his cottage. And as if Fate was listening, here it was, news of Cressie. For how long had he wanted news? For how long had he avoided news for fear it would hurt even more?

Lord! He had been able to bear it! Somehow, on some unconscious level, Jem had been able to bear it knowing that she was looked after, safe, content even, living in a manor somewhere, even if she was the wife of somebody else.

But this was clearly not the case. Jem could hear Belle's fear in her written words. That same fear settled in his bones the instant Jem had read her name. Cressie wasn't safe. It did not matter from what. She wasn't safe, and that was enough to make him sick. It was enough to take him right back to the morning that he had woken up without her. It was enough to make him wish that he had awoken, that he had managed to hold her and to keep her safe.

But what could he do?

He knew what he wanted to do. Jem wanted to storm the bloody manor of Everett Delaney, torch the place, and steal Cressie away to safety. He wanted to bring her here, where she would be safe and loved and treasured, and ...

Jem threw his hands down on the dining table and he took a breath, willing his mind to stop racing, and to think practically.

Cressie had not written a word in five years. Not a peep since she had left his bed that morning. There was a chance, a great chance indeed, that she had forgotten about him. She might not love him anymore. She might not have ever loved him in the way that he had loved her.

As soon as these thoughts entered his mind, Jem decided that he did not care. They did not matter. Cressie owed him nothing. What she deserved, however, was something else entirely. She had given up her life for her mother, and now, for whatever reason, she was unsafe. Belle had not specified that the reason was her husband, but it was not hard to jump to conclusions.

Jem could never be the sort of man to take from Cressie.

***

Jem had asked his brother-in-law for permission to take his office to London for a few weeks. What he would find there and what he would do when he got there were something else entirely. Adam had responded by granting him a summer holiday.

Adam clearly was not as perturbed about the nails on the chair incident as Grace was.

When Jem asked what his expected return date was, Adam had responded by saying, "When you feel like it. You have not had an hour off in years, Jem."

And so, Jem packed his things. He packed everything without having a plan, an idea, an iota of a clue of what to do. What he wanted to do, and what was possible, were two separate entities. But he knew one thing was for certain. He had to see her. He had to see her with his own eyes and make sense of Belle's words.

Jem had not forgotten a thing about her. He could still see her face as clear in his mind as though she had left him that very morning. He would know. He would know if she had changed. He would know if something was wrong. He would know if she was unsafe.

The selfish, the very selfish, part of him wanted to find a reason to stage a gallant rescue. But the decent part of him wanted Belle to be wrong. He couldn't live with it if she truly were unsafe. He hoped, he sincerely did, that she had forgotten about him. He hoped that she was happy, that she had found some happiness in the life she had married into.

Whatever the truth was, Jem was about to find out.

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Our boy is comingggggg!!! Hope you enjoyed it! Managed to get it up on time this week wahoo!

I hope you've all had great weeks on your end. My week's ended with my dumb lactose intolerant butt eating a bloody McFlurry so I wrote most of this on the bathroom floor as ice cream literally makes me spew. Bad Laura! Bad! 

Anyways! I'm so excited to take Jem to London, and to maybe our Jemmy and Cressie finally seeing each other again after so long .............. stay tuned!

Vote and comment!! xxx