Chapter thirteen
"It was nice playing with all of you," Monica smiled with a wave of her hair, "Unfortunately, I have to fall."
The men eyed her wryly, trying their best to make sense of her words. But long before they did, the lady bowed and flipped off the branch, FALLING STRAIGHT DOWN!
It was then they understood what she meant by I-have-to-fall. And just like most surprised people, they just paused and watched, seemingly trying to understand if she had really jumped off a branch down to a waterfall.
Meanwhile, Monica dived down along with gravity, letting the gushing wave of wind flush past her violently.
There was no feeling more magical. It was freedom, something she hadn't truly felt in a very long time. And finally…water!
It engulfed her in, splashing over her entire body and pulling her down. Swimming up to the surface, she gasped dearly for air while her wet hair stuck down to her face and body. It was surprisingly warm, releasing a little amount of vapour around the edges. That made her grin.
What a pleasant place for a bath!
***
"What are you doing here you…" Miriam stopped when Elizabeth held up her hand to her face.
The younger lady swirled her head to face her, her fan going back and forth near her face, "I am going to get married to the Duke soon my dear Aunt. You had better choose your words carefully."
Miriam nodded, clearly fighting back the words she wanted to say. When she looked up at the blonde again, she snarled in the most polite way she could manage, "What do you want?"
Elizabeth went straight to the point, "Do you have any idea where my cousin is?"
Her aunt looked her up and down for a while. It was obvious she was forcing herself not to pull that blonde hair off the younger lady's head, "Why do you suddenly care?"
Elizabeth sighed heavily and lowered her fan from her face, "Just tell me aunty."
Miriam was already fed up. Stepping backwards, she began pushing the door close. However, something came between the door and the post.
The to-be Duchess had placed her fan at the doorpost so it won't shut.
And that was the peak of Miriam's anger, like a thorn pushing through her skin. Angrily, she pulled back the door violently and glared at her niece, "You'd better…"
Elizabeth stepped forward until she was a breath away from the older lady. Leaning towards her ear, she whispered with sarcastic sweetness, "It took just a few puffs of courage to kill my own father. For the last time, where is Monica?"
Miriam gasped.
***
She floated in the water and pulled her red hair to her front. There was no single life in sight, well except for the grass around the water and the birds she heard chirping some distance away.
To Monica, it was the best of her fantasies. Well almost the best because the Duke was not by her side.
The waterfall kept bringing new warm water that swept past her bare body. Even with her loneliness, she was cautious enough to dip the greater part of her naked body in water, leaving just her shoulder above it.
And out of nowhere, there was a sound, making Monica turn abruptly to face the wall of trees before her. It was the sound of crushing twigs and dried leaves, as if wheels had just rolled over them.
Looking through the dense woods, she sighted the body of a carriage riding on pebbles of stones. And by God, it was coming her way.
It was too much of a surprise to do anything. But with great caution, she squared her shoulders as the vehicle came completely into sight.
She'd be damned if it did not belong to someone wealthy and important. It looked like it could cost a fortune. And that was enough to make her want to know more.
Monica narrowed her eyes to see through the carriage's window. Good old Elizabeth…well that was the peak of surprises. Her eyes widened in disbelief. Was this some sort of coincidence?
She watched the Coachman park the carriage and descend, turning round to its silver door. With a practiced pose, he pulled it open for Anfield's future duchess.
Elizabeth slipped her little hand into that of the coachman and stepped out in every sort of pride and Glory she had. What a better way to rub it into the faces of the poor?
At that, Monica smiled in anger and looked away.
Elizabeth stalked perfectly to the waterside, looking down at her cousin with a grin, "Monica!"
The lady with the red hair looked up, fighting the urge to pull out her pistol and shoot. Her eyes studied the blonde before her up and down, making sure to show the disgust she felt through them.
Although slightly offended, Elizabeth smirked and opened her fan, taking it up to her face. She took a last look at the surrounding before resting her eyes on Monica once more, "You've really grown to be quite more enticing than the last time we met! How do you see England by the way, my country!" Her eyes cringed in a fake, bright smile.
Monica washed her face some more, deciding it was finally time to quit the oath of silence, "Useless is an understatement for many reasons best known to me. For starters, it's because you live in it."
The blonde seemed to find the insult amusing. She turned to her side and nodded, swallowing what the other lady had said with a smile.
She met Monica's glower again and sighed, "You have all the reasons in the world to hate me. And I do not expect a sweet clash like this to restore our friendship, do I?"
Monica ignored her expectedly. To her, floating in water was a more purposeful task.
"However," Elizabeth continued after a while of annoying silence, "I have come with an offer impossibly irresistible."
The lady in water seemed interested now she heard that. Still, she chose to tease, "And what do you have that the Duke can't offer me?"
At that, the Scottish noticed her cousin's jaws set firmly, and she knew she had struck a nerve somewhere. It just increased her smile some more.
Elizabeth's smirk solidified to a frown while she looked down at Monica. That was a quick road to her anger; the Duke.
"Along with an offer, I came with a warning," she snarled.
If there was anything funny in what she had said, she didn't notice. But the next second, her cousin burst into an endless feat of laughter. And she did not pretend it did not offend her. It came as a big blow to her ego.
"Threaten me!" Monica exclaimed in laughter, "Now that's something exciting you've said. What's the worst you could do, warn me against going close to your betrothed?  As a matter of fact my dear cousin, you have nothing against me. Give me an army and I'll  fight them with my hands tied."
The blonde smiled down at her, finding her a little bit naive for someone who had the same blood as hers flowing through her, "People like you don't get scared by death. However, there's always a weakness, someone you care about."
Monica was about to say something out of confusion when she watched as the Coachman walked back to the carriage.
He seemed to be forcing something, or someone out of it. And it just had to be her own mother. He yanked the older lady towards Elizabeth who held up a gun to her head, "I paid your home a little visit today and guess what I found, the woman who eloped from England with a Scottish lad. Father hated her till his death. Bless his soul," she faked a look of pity. Smirking, she lowered her voice and went on, "What do you say I do you a favor and end her life. Or do I still not pose a threat?"
And there was Monica, doing one of the last things expected as always. She looked into the water and snickered in pure amusement, "You plan to threaten me and you use my mother? You want to become duchess of Anfield like this?" She knew too well that was rude, but what was fun without a bad tongue? With one quiet rasp, she swam straight to the blonde and said, "Why don't I take your place as duchess. I will deliver, I promise." Then a smile!
"I'm serious," Elizabeth shrieked, clearly losing her discipline now, "It won't take as much as a breath to pull this trigger."
"Call me when you have a better offer," Monica said then turned away, swimming to the other side of the water.
Miriam gawked at her daughter with wide eyes, her sobs drowned by the gag around her mouth. Still, tears fell from her eyes at the realisation that this family feud had gotten out of hand. Monica would really leave her to die!
"I'm placing the gun on her temples now," Elizabeth shouted at the Scottish.
If she said something, Monica did not realize. She did not even turn to face her,let alone say a word.
Now the blonde flung her hands while losing patience, "Monica."
This could go on forever aimlessly. Both lasses knew this. What made Elizabeth angrier was the point Monica was trying to make about being her own master, something annoyingly attractive even to Elizabeth herself.
From behind her, Monica heard a grip tighten around the pistol in readiness to shoot. With that, she frowned but faced forward anyway.
Deep down, she knew the threats were as good as empty.
"Fine," she finally heard the blonde exhale deeply in mere frustration, "What do you want?"
Monica's turn was swift and sudden as she faced Elizabeth and swam quickly to her. Her eyes looked up to meet the other lady who squatted towards her. What could go wrong, "I want what I have always wanted."
Elizabeth smirked satisfactorily, tilting her head until it made the other lass smile. "And what could that be?"
"My home," she replied while she rolled her head, "give it to me and your wish is my command."
Among all smiles she had shown, this was the brightest and most genuine. Elizabeth could have done a flip there if she could. However, she dropped the gun, admiring her long lost blood, "We have a deal."
Elizabeth did not know much about the other lady. But she loved the little she knew, her boldness to be precise. And one thing for sure was, none of them was on the Duke's side. They wanted something, and it could take heaven and Earth for that to happen. It was all perfectly wrong.