LORD OSCAR SEYMOUR ENTERED THE breakfast hall of the Seymour estate, his attire polished to perfection and his hair windswept with precision, even though his mind was still groggy from sleep. Oscar loved that about himself, he loved being so presentable that the person in front would have no clue as to what was going on inside his head. People tend to judge a person by what they can see, and he always intended to feed them exactly that.
The breakfast hall, just like the entire manor, was lit up by the morning sun. As a result of a dozen windows in the manor, understanding the weather outside was no problem. The sun sat perched in the highest point in the sky, and it was eight o' clock. The sky was clear, showcasing the blue for as far as the eye could see, and the snow had stopped.
Although the snow already fallen looked as though it hadn't shifted an inch since last night, Oscar was sure it would melt and all would be made right again for his day to actually begin.
Lady Seymour sat in her chair at the table, reading through the morning letters with inspecting eyes, and Adam Seymour acquired the chair next to her, reading what Oscar presumed, the same newspaper from yesterday.
"Ah, there you are, Oscar," His mother asserted, putting the letters in her hand aside, "I'll call for breakfast now. When are you to be departing?" She rang the tiny square bell.
Oscar pulled out a chair to his mother's left, right opposite to Adam, "After breakfast," he responded. It was much to early in the morning for him to be having full fledged conversations, so he resorted to saying as little words as he could. Oscar preferred if no one even spoke to him for about a few hours after he had woken up, just to give him time to collect himself and his composure before facing people.
"Miss Churchill isn't down yet," Lady Seymour pointed out, after she asked the butler to bring out the food and he had nodded, spun on his heels, and left, "I suppose I must send a maid to wake her. It is not the rectory after all, for her to be sleeping in so late. Imposing on our generosity isn't proper."
Adam Seymour hummed something, whether it was in agreement or just a reaction to something he had read in the paper, Oscar couldn't tell.
Soon, some maids and footmen entered the hall with dishes in their hands as they placed them on the table. Toasts, sausages, eggs, it all made Oscar's stomach growl. The air in the hall became warm scented, smelling of a mixture of everything on the table and pine. The pine, was because of the numerous pine trees surrounding the manor. Every room in the Seymour Manor often smelled of pine.
"Your aunt, Lady Charlotte Allan wrote. She's coming to visit in a week for Christmas. I am looking forward to it, everything around here has been quite dull since winter started. I have planned an array of dishes for our Christmas dinner. It shall be grand like every Christmas we've had before," Lady Seymour asserted, cutting out a smaller piece of toast with a butter knife.
"Please tell me she's bringing her governess along," Adam probed, his cautious gaze on his mother, as he chewed slowly.
Lady Seymour narrowed her eyes at him, "At their age, the girls are more disciplined than you both were." She cast a glance at Oscar, who sighed in turn.
After a quiet breakfast, Oscar Seymour stood up. "Now, mother, I must be off," he announced.
"Very well, be sure to take care," The lady of the house nodded.
"When are you to be back?" Adam Seymour inquired.
Oscar glanced at him, "It depends on the dilemma Lord Beresford has got at hand, I may be back tomorrow or in a few days. After all, he isn't inquiring for me at such an urgent basis for a mere round of whist and whiskey."
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𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒
Historical Fiction(Completed) When his best friend's cousin, an heiress, is kidnapped, Lord Oscar Seymour is inclined to oblige aid in the search. In the wake of the disappearance, when appearances become essential, Lord Seymour devises a scheme to render the society...