The carriage pulled away from the curb, my lonely trunk and I the only discernible things on the street at such an hour of the foggy evening. I could feel the chill creeping in through the thin cotton of my old finishing school uniform. I hadn't wanted to try Ella's patience by keeping the dresses she'd ended up paying for thanks to my family's debt, so I had only packed my old uniforms and the single, outdated ball gown I had been planning to wear that night.

No longer than a minute or two after Ella and the girls had left, a pair of maids entered the room. They efficiently packed my belongings back into my trunk, a footman appearing out of nowhere to lug it down the service corridor and out the service entrance near the stables. I hadn't even had a moment to sneak into Ella's room to steal back my necklace, let alone sneak down to Audra's to beg for a new disguise so I could attend the ball. Whoever the palace maids were, they knew that I was to be escorted out as quickly as possible, which they did, depositing me in a carriage with instructions to take me to my family house in Highcastle.

I had squeezed my eyes shut, nails digging into the palms of my hands as the carriage passed through the palace gates. I couldn't think about the fact it would be my last ride through those gates. I found I couldn't breathe at the prospect of never seeing Andrew again. And yet, here I was.

Standing on the curb, I looked up at the house looming out of the shadows before me, dark and foreboding when compared to its neighbours. Along the block, warm golden light spilled out from sitting rooms onto the street, the promise of warmth and shelter infinitely more inviting than the cold stone facade I was staring at.

Xavier had warned me that they'd let staff go at the house, but this looked more as if they'd gone and already closed it up. I hoped he hadn't already left the city, given that there was nary a candle to be seen in any of the windows. Clearly we were in much worse circumstances than I'd thought.

I drew in a breath, leaning down to seize the handle of my trunk. It made an almighty racket as I dragged it up the walk to the stairs, heaving it up one step at a time. I knocked the big brass knocker, waiting. I desperately hoped Xavier was in so he could at least keep me company on the most miserable night of my existence.

My breath was coming in plumes and I rubbed my arms to ward off the chill of the late summer air as I heard the door being unlocked from the inside. Xavier pushed it open, lighting the front step with a single candle.

"Well this is certainly unexpected," he said, taking in my dress and trunk, "What on Earth happened Libby?"

"It's a long story," I said. He sighed, throwing the door open.

Xavier handed me the candle so he could pick up the trunk and drag it inside. As we entered, I had to fight back tears once again.

Most of the furnishings had been carted off, probably to auction, and none of the lamps were lit. This house, this glorious house that had once been my winter wonderland and spring paradise was now nothing but the skeleton of old memories. The chill followed us in, adding to the emptiness.

"The front room's bed hasn't been packed up yet, I'll set you up there. I'm warming some dinner in the kitchen just now, if you're hungry," Xavier said, abandoning the trunk beside the door and preceding me down the dark hallway towards the kitchen at the back. The hearth fire was burning, a pot of something bubbling over it. At least this room had only minimally changed, save for the obvious lack of staff.

"Food would be splendid," I said.

"I also went ahead and took the liberty of opening this," he said, taking up an expensive bottle of Father's scotch and pouring more into an already half-empty glass, "Decorum be damned, would you like some?"

"Need you even ask?" I said, plunking myself down across the massive wooden countertop from where Xavier had set a lonely place setting for one. He dug around one of the cabinets, pulling out a weathered looking little cup to match his own. I smiled ruefully at drinking such expensive liquor from such a cheap vessel.

"What happened?" he asked, looking over at me as he sipped his scotch. I inhaled, swirling my cup before taking a fortifying sip.

"Ella found out I'd been sneaking around to see the prince," I said, "He disguised me as an American diplomat's daughter and danced with me all night last night,"

Xavier sputtered and spat out his scotch.

"The prince?" he exclaimed. I nodded miserably, staring down into my drink.

"Libby, you were supposed to be catching a husband, not a prince!" he said, hopping up to give the stew a stir.

"I wasn't trying to catch him! It just happened all on its own!" I cried, burying my head into my arms, "He was the only person there that was halfway decent, the only person that didn't mind me acting like myself. I couldn't help that I enjoyed his company, but then it turned into us sneaking notes and him inviting me on rides..."

Xavier was still stirring the stew, a frown on his face.

"You're angry," I said finally, when he didn't speak. His jaw muscle pulsed when he sighed.

"I'm not angry," he said, returning to the table to take a drink of his scotch, "But this doesn't bode well for you. You do realize that now you'll be forced to marry whatever moneyed old codger they choose?"

A wave of nausea so intense crashed over me that I very nearly gagged. I choked down a gulp of scotch instead.

"No I won't," I said flatly, "I'll find a way to go back or I'll find someone else to marry me,"

"Does anyone else know?" Xavier asked, ladling out two bowls of stew.

"Emily perhaps, Andrew's siblings, and one of the seamstresses," I said, "But Ella promised she wouldn't tell anyone if I left, so here I am,"

"Then here's to hoping we can talk Vile Edith around to save the family," Xavier said, clinking his cup with mine as he served us, "Because without you in the Season, there's a slim chance you'll marry high enough to save us,"

"It's not fair that this has fallen onto my shoulders," I said finally, pushing my stew around in silence as I mulled over Xavier's words, "I'm no crown jewel of a daughter, how can they have expected me to come up with some rich fiancé in a matter of weeks?"

"Of course it's not fair," Xavier said, "When I said you were their last hope, I wasn't lying. They've been trying to find a solution for some time now and with you hurrying off to join Ella at the palace, they had to seize the opportunity,"

"Well I suppose they'll have to seize another," I muttered, eating a spoonful of the stew. Xavier had done a remarkably good job at replicating cook's beef stew, right down to the chopped vegetables and spices.

"There are no others," Xavier said, setting his spoon down to look at me, "I'm under strict instructions to bring you home to Draughton if you were ever let go from the Season,"

"You can't," I said hurriedly, shaking my head, "I can't go back there, not until I've found a way to right this,"

"I had a feeling you would say that," Xavier said, nudging a printed advertisement towards me. I scanned it in the low light from the hearth fire.

"A teaching position at a primary school in India?" I said, looking up at him. Xavier nodded.

"If you don't want to face Draughton, you can come with me," he offered.

"But...Xavier, a primary school teacher? You're far too qualified for such a position," I said. He gave me a sad, rueful smile.

"I would have been, but I haven't been attending university since they called me home from Oxford,"

"I cannot believe this is happening," I said, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes, "Xavier that was your dream!"

I could feel the tears starting once again. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly? How had both my brother and I both lost everything we cared about? Xavier reached over and rested his hand on top of mine.

"We're going to get through this Libby, I promise you," he said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze, "If I have to go get a job to help pay for the roof over our heads I'll do it. I'll take you away from them before they force you to marry some terrible man just for the sake of money,"

"Just like Edward," I muttered bitterly, sniffling. Xavier sighed again.

"Edward married Edith the second he found out about the money troubles," Xavier admitted, "He never intended to help us, he only intended to look out for himself. He's already putting pressure on father to abdicate his title and I daresay he's close to getting what he wants,"

My head snapped up at this to see Xavier watching me sadly.

"They put the last of the money into finishing you, Libby," he said, pausing to finish his cup of scotch in a gulp, "They were hoping you'd turn out like Ella and marry someone rich enough to save the family. They knew you wouldn't abandon us like Edward,"

My heart shattered.

"All this time..." I whispered, the enormity of my immaturity crashing down onto my shoulders. Xavier met my eyes in silence. The tears were streaming freely now. Suddenly it all made sense, my parents' desperation for me to succeed in school, their persistence despite my resistance. It wasn't because they wanted to get rid of me, it's because they needed me to save them.

"Why couldn't you have married someone rich instead?" I asked, desperate to stop the walls from closing in around me. Xavier gave me a rueful smile.

"Because no unmarried lady, especially a rich one, is willing to get involved with someone like me. At least not while there's a much bigger prize fish in the pond,"

"The prince," I muttered, only for memories of his bright green eyes and his lips on mine to slam into me full force. I dissolved into sobs, miserably reminded that I'd never be able to make him throw his head back in laughter again.

Xavier allowed me to cry, offering me his handkerchief when I'd finally finished with the gut-wrenching sobs and progressed to the shaky sniffles. My eyes felt heavy from tears and fatigue as I stared over at him.

"Xavier..." I whispered, "You can't resign yourself to teaching bratty ex-patriate children their letters. You were supposed to be a great professor one day,"

"I've been to the best schools in the country and now that it's clear I won't be pursuing an academic career, this may be my only good option. Edward's getting the title, which leaves you and I with very little. I won't be able to support us both on one salary," he said, clearly having thought about this before, "But you've been to almost all the finishing schools in the country, surely you've retained at least something? You could be a governess,"

"And wear those dreadful high collared dresses and be forced to sit still all day? I wouldn't even be allowed to laugh!" I protested, so upset that I was suddenly laughing myself, "Xavier I'd be the worst governess in the country! I'd raise little hellions, not little nobles,"

Xavier laughed too as I poured the last of my scotch down my trembling throat.

"You're right, you'd make a terrible governess," he said, pouring us both another cup of scotch, "But you like food, maybe we could find you work as a cook,"

"I'd be surrounded by food all day," I considered, "That would be much more desirable then being married to some hideous old man,"

Xavier smiled, swirling his scotch before setting it on the table, serious again.

"Libby, I swear to you that we'll survive this," he said solemnly, "I won't abandon you, not for anything. I will make sure we weather this storm together,"

I felt fresh tears brimming in my eyes. We sat there in silence, Xavier finishing his meal and me staring down at my barely touched plate. I couldn't stomach food, so I chose scotch instead. It was bitter and burned on the way down, but it lit a warmth inside me that was at least a small comfort. When the fire turned to embers, Xavier cleared the dishes and preceded me up the stairs.

"The guest room in the front is still made up. It won't be warm, but I can always-" he started as we reached the top of the dark stairwell.

"It's one night, I'm sure I won't die of pneumonia," I said, taking a lamp from the table at the top of the stairs and lighting it from his, "Good night, Vee,"

"Goodnight Libby," he said, giving me a kiss on the forehead. We parted ways at the top of the stairs, Xavier retiring to his room at the back of the house as I made my way to the small spare room at the front. The kitchen's fire hadn't managed to heat this part of the house so the chill was unmistakable. But the same warm quilt that had always brightened the room still sat on the bed. I'd taken a nightdress and robe from my trunk before we'd come upstairs, changing into them by the dim light of the lantern. I set it on the table by the door, crawling under the covers for warmth.

I willed myself not to cry once again as I surrendered to the day.