Nerves pervaded their bodies as both girls tried their best to fall asleep that night. Fiona spent most of the evening tossing and turning, going over the details in her mind. Imogen laid in bed and pictured their future together, which had grown to include a kitten that she had invented purely out of hope. She told herself that she would ask Fiona in the morning if they could get a kitten, because she'd always loved animals and she would love to share something living with her. Both of them slept for a mere hour or two and when the sun began to rise, so did they.

As planned, Harold had already brought the car out front with the help of Thomas and some of the other male staff members. Fiona, with the aid of one of the footmen, brought down her luggage. Imogen had far less to bring with her. They loaded their things into the car and Fiona remembered the letter, hurrying upstairs to place it on her pillow, folding it and writing "To my parents" on the outside. She glanced back at her bedroom, realizing this would be the last time she was ever here, and snuck to her parent's room, opening the door a crack so that she could look at them one last time. She whispered a goodbye and threw a rude gesture toward Declan's closed door before heading back out to the idling vehicle. Once inside, she and Imogen embraced, looking forward to what lay ahead of them.

Harold drove them to the train station as Fiona had insisted, and helped the girls unload their things. He and Imogen kept watch while Fiona bought the train tickets, to a place called Abernathy. It was the next train and one of the places near the top of her list. They bid adieu to the chauffeur and not long after, were boarding the train with their luggage, prepared to leave everything behind them.

Of course, Harold returned to the house just before the family awoke. It was an hour or two after their escape that the Earl and Countess arose from bed, and several hours after that when they found Fiona's letter. When their daughter didn't come down for breakfast for the second time in two days, the Countess went upstairs to check on her. She gasped as she entered the room to find Fiona gone, and instantly noticed the slip of paper on her daughter's pillow. She unfolded it and read it slowly, taking in everything that she had to say. By the end, tears filled her eyes along with anger at her daughter, but more than anything, anger toward her son. The Countess came across Declan in the hall but did not show any indication of her knowledge, instead searching out her husband to let him read the atrocity that Fiona had left for them.

"I can't believe this." The Earl announced wearily as he placed the letter down on his desk. He removed his glasses and looked at his wife, his heart heavy in his chest.

"Nor can I," She echoed, leaning her weight onto his shoulder both metaphorically and literally. "What are we to do?"

It was quite a conundrum. Declan was his only son and only heir, unless the Countess could produce another, or Fiona married a man, which at this point, didn't seem likely. They were both astonished and disgusted at what their son had done and neither wanted his horrendous deed to go unpunished. They decided that they would call their son and speak with him, get him to confess what he'd done. He would, undoubtedly, have to be evaluated by medical personnel to determine whether he was mad, and would be placed in either a hospital or a jail, respectively.

The Earl said that he hoped Fiona would write them, so that they could let her know the proceedings, as perhaps she might have to testify against him in court. He also hoped that he could persuade her to marry Bobby, only on paper, to give them a new heir. They had known Bobby ever since he was a child, and had utmost certainty that he would be a great Earl, so long as he was willing to forgo his own inheritance. That wasn't to be a problem, because Bobby had an older brother who would inherit before him and unless he died, Bobby would likely not be the heir to his father's fortune. It would be difficult to convince Fiona, but if they assured her that it was only a marriage by law but not enforced, then perhaps they could get her to agree. After all, an estate needed an heir.

It took much discussion for a decision to be reached, but once it was made, they sent for their son. He joined them in the office with much curiosity in his eyes, as it was unusual for them to wish to speak with him in such a formal manner.

"What is it? Has something happened?" He wondered, his tongue flicking nervously over his lips. Declan's first thought was that perhaps Fiona had committed suicide, his parents had found the body and now were trying to break the news to her dear brother. He didn't vocalize these thoughts, however, but he sensed the grave situation merely by the tones of their voices and the queer look in their eyes.

"Yes, son. Something has. Please, sit down." The Earl urged, and Declan scrambled to take a seat. He looked eagerly at them. "First thing's first. Your sister has..." He paused, and his son leaned forward in his chair, awaiting to hear his words, validation of his own theory. "Unfortunately left us, for good. She's run away."

Declan looked upset. "Oh no." Was he being sincere, or was he a better actor than all of them realized? Fiona had theorized that Declan had good intentions with what he had done, but obviously was quite misled in how he carried out his sick 'cure' for what he deemed as her own sickness. Although his supposed reasoning indicated that he cared for his sister, his methodology was questionable at the very least and this made it difficult to determine how he really felt about Fiona.

His mother gave him a stern glance. "I'm afraid there's more. You see, she's left us a letter-"

Sudden hysterical laughter came from Declan's chapped lips. "Hahaha! A letter! Of course she has! And what does she say in this letter, huh? What exactly did my dear sister tell you, my doting parents, in order for you to regard me in this manner?" He jumped up from the chair, his blue eyes darting from his mother to his father. "Well?" He asked again, more forcefully.

Neither of them had seen this unusual side of their son, but it sent them both on edge. If they hadn't believed Fiona's words fully before, well, they were certainly cemented now.

"Your sister wrote that you forcibly-uh-that you..." Saying the words wasn't easy for the Earl. It made them all the more real.

"That I took advantage of her? That I raped her?" Declan spat, laughing once again. "Did she tell you why?"

"So you admit that you did those things to her?"

"Yes, but did she tell you why I did those things?"

"It matters not why. There is NO good reason for what you did. None. I don't care what you thought, it was wrong. It was disgusting. It was immoral. It was inhuman." His father grabbed him by the shoulders, shouting in his face.

Declan smirked. "You say that, but what I did was no worse than what Fiona has done. Homosexuality is just as wrong, as disgusting, as immoral, as ANIMAL. I was merely trying to make her see that-"

"I'm done listening to your twisted reasoning. There-is-no-excuse!" He grabbed the collar of Declan's shirt and grumbled loudly.

"Careful, father, the staff will hear you, you're not exactly being discreet."

"To hell with discreet! I don't care if they hear us! It's better that they know what a monster you are. You disgust me." Pushing Declan, he released his shirt and gasped, turning around and locking eyes with his wife.

Declan adjusted his shirt and rolled his eyes, walking toward the Countess. "Well, mum? What about you? Do you agree? Or do you think, like I thought, that she's sick? That she needs fixing?"

"She might be, Declan. But you are far more sick than she will ever be. We renounce you from this family, as heir to the manor. We renounce you as our son. This is not the end of it, Declan, this is just the beginning."

Surprised, he took in his mother's words. He hadn't expected her to agree with his father, she had always seemed like the better of them both. But neither of them understood him and if that was the case, he didn't care at all! The inheritance meant nothing to them, they meant nothing to him. He knew what was coming and he didn't even care. Because Declan had lost everything.

Not long after their conversation, the Earl sent Thomas out after the police. They arrived within a few hours, taking Declan away in their car and giving them lots of paperwork to fill out. It was the beginning of quite a long process, but eventually the county would decide Declan's fate, which was unpleasant either way. Either of his punishments would leave him locked up and alone, to think for a very long time about his misguided actions. That night, the Countess wrote Fiona a letter, disappointed when she remembered she had nowhere to send it. She tucked it away for later, hoping desperately that her daughter would write them soon.

_

Epilogue

Imogen smiled at Fiona from her place on the bed, watching as the older girl put their clothes in the cedar dresser they were to share.

"I think I like it here." She murmured happily, looking around at their motel room. It wasn't much by most standards, but it was bigger than her room had been at the manor, and even better, she had Fiona by her side. Her smile could only grow as her girlfriend approached her, wrapping her arms around her neck and giving her a kiss on the lips.

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be." Fiona echoed, pulling her love protectively against her.

In that moment, they knew for certain that they had made the right choice.