Chapter seventeen
The sight the Marquess first received after he made it through the doors was…well…
He would say it was expected, and not expected at the same time. It was expected for any couple to be wed in two weeks time, and certainly not expected for a lad like Philip.
The Duke lifted his face from Elizabeth's own and turned to Earl, forcing the anger he felt to show in his eyes. "Ever heard of knocking?" He inquired with a deadly arch of his brows.
Earl stood, arms crossed, his appearance as solemn as any formal Monarch should be. With the look on his face, it would be impossible to guess how much he wanted to strangle Philip.
And as he always did, he disguised every emotion with a smirk, "I never knock when you are involved because I'm pretty sure you won't be involved in anything…devious." He gave him a daring glare and continued, "But my my… Here you are rubbing faces with the Viscount's daughter even before you are wed. Give her a break Your Grace."
The Duke rolled his eyes and looked away, just before he steeped back from his betrothed. Why did Earl always have to spoil the fun?!
"What do you want," Philip snarled the question to him.
The Marquess did not reply. Instead, he looked over his shoulder at the double doors. By then, he was well aware there was a higher chance for pigs to fly than for Monica to obey him. It was about time now he expected her to barge in and create a scene.
Just then, both doors flung open with considerable force, making the couple gawk at the intruder in surprise.
Hah. Earl knew he was right, he always was! Monica stumbled through the doorway and looked up at the three with a face on as though she had not meant to intrude.
Elizabeth smirked knowingly afterwards and began striding away, "I'd best leave now. By God, I have a million things to do." She gave her cousin a small wink and turned back to the Duke with a curtsy, "Good day Your Grace."
Philip nodded in silence as she left them three in private. Next, he bit his lower lip in embarrassment, absolutely sure the following conversation was going to be awkward and ugly.
Earl still had his solemn pose while he studied Philip like a father. When he had been satisfied, he sighed and changed his pose to something demonstrative, "You literal scumbag…" he began much to the surprise of everyone. Philip was expecting something, but not… that at least!
The Marquess went on anyway, "As far as I'm concerned, your relationship with women has remained within the family. Where did you learn such a…an act?"
Philip's nervousness turned to a frown after Earl's question. Obviously that was more of a tease than a real question. "You are talking about a kiss?"
Monica's heart cut into half at the sound of that. Why did she even let it affect her this much? One thing she was sure of was, she wasn't in love with Philip. Certainly not. So jealousy was out of the question. But then there was lust, and greed, and many other horrible things out there, "I'm…surprised." Those were the only words she managed to say that were as true as they were planned.
"Well she started it," Philip said in what was supposed to be his defense. Why was he even defending himself!
Monica shrugged indifferently, trying her best to pretend it didn't concern her, "I'd just assume the Marquess here and I believe that."
The Duke looked at both friends, frustrated and helpless. Earl looked like he agreed with the lady. But deep down, it was clear none of them believed him. He just shook his head and turned away, silently marking the end of the conversation.
The next moment of silence was used to get all the dirty pictures Monica imagined out of her mind. Coming to think of it, how were they possibly kissing and how did they even get there…
She was still thinking about all that when Earl suddenly found something less embarrassing to talk about, "When are we paying King Louis a visit? I mean London is a distant land. Any thing we should know?"
Philip sat upon his desk and seemed to be thinking of an answer with a small frown on. When the glower left, he looked up at Earl and  said, "Just so you know, the chief soldier of Mareda will be joining us. Nax Brethwell, which somehow I don't still know why." He began stroking his shaved chin in confusion.
The lady in the room turned to Philip abruptly, raising her brows in surprise. She dropped her hands which were around her chest, "Your Grace I don't suggest we bring just anybody into this."
Philip frowned at her tone until she bowed her head in apology. However, there was some sense in her words he couldn't help but understand, "I'll take full responsibility for anything that comes out of this, up until Kilmarnock is returned. Still, we'll keep a close eye on him. For such a man to offer his help to me, I believe there's something more than just his patriotism." He sipped his whisky and gave Monica a reassuring gaze which she tried to understand.
Deep down though, she believed Elizabeth had something to do with it.
***
Dinner was awkward and quiet. Literally the entire length of the dining table had been filled with food, the ones she'd seen and those she hadn't. She then eyed the people seated around it.
One of the last things Monica desired was dining with a family that stripped her of the comfort. She had never seen such amount of food in years, that she was sure of.
The Duke occupied the seat at the head of the table, just across from his mother who took the other end. His friends took the ones at his right, while his sister sat directly beside his left.
And Monica?
Well she just gave a safe distance from everyone, glaring at the food as though it was poison. She hadn't even had a bite since.
Nobody else seemed to notice this except the Duchess. She dropped her fork and smirked at the Scottish. Rebecca eyed her through in belittlement, rasping her insult in the sweetest of tones, "Eat my dear. You may not have the opportunity ever again."
Monica found that amusing rather than offensive. Still her gaze never left the plate of food before her. The Duchess had a clear point, although it didn't justify what she'd done. Dinner had been peaceful at least before she said that, and Philip and friends did not find her words exciting at all.
When Monica finally chose to look at her, her eyes held pain which she hid with a smile, "Your family had managed to make it that way, aren't I right?"
There were no words from either woman for a tiny moment, just glares that communicated even better. The aura had suddenly changed into something even more awkward.
Philip sighed in frustration and decided to play his own part of the sarcasm as well. Slowly, he dropped his fork, bracing his elbows upon the table, "My dear sweet Mother…" the words finally made Rebecca go back to her food with clear anger in her motion. Obviously, she had noticed his intentions.
Philip continued, "Monica here will be joining us to London in three days time. With that, she'll be noticeably close." His last sentence came out with a tone of finality like there was nothing anybody could do about it. "And I expect total cooperation from the entire family. From the servants present here… to your very own self."
Well that was a sweet way to place a rebuke, the Duchess thought. She snickered softly to herself, seemingly trying to swallow his words. But then, she thought more of them, "And why exactly should she be joining you? You are getting married soon. Do you not think you could spend some of that time with Elizabeth."
The Duke leaned away from the table and gave his mother his full attention, though frustration painted most of his features, "You asked me to get married to her mother and I  will willfully do that. But spending every bit of my time with her is sheer madness. I'm a Duke with duties for goodness sake. Monica here has something of hers that I possess at the moment and I'll need to give it back."
"And what form does this…" she gestured with both arms before her, "thing have that it needs you all to go on a field trip. Or is it just her trying to steal from you again."
This is the main reason she did not want to stay for dinner. It seemed English women were born with some sort of lose mouth, especially the Forlands. And it was as though it evolved with age.
Monica put her arms over her chest and plastered a tiny smile, "As a matter of fact my lady, His Grace will return Kilmarnock to me. That surely requires a field trip as you put it."
And as she wanted it, all the color drained from Rebecca's face in one go. There was a bit of silence, with Philip watching his mother for any reaction. Her expression seemed calm enough, as though there was  a time bomb ready to explode inside her.
The Duchess finally sighed and simply said, "This has to be a joke Philip."
Her son remained silent, obviously not ready to argue with her. In his stead, Jason stepped in.
While the Earl sliced a piece of chevron from his plate, he turned to the older lady and rasped, "It is true in every way my lady."
Rebecca kept on fighting control over some deep emotion, most likely anger. Her hands let go of the fork between her fingers while she stared straight at her son, "Philip. What has she blackmailed you with. I don't believe you can do this on your own free will."
It was now Philip laughed at her question. He returned the stare while playing with his hair, "I am doing what is right mother. It is her father's and basically hers now. What in the world is wrong with that?"
Just then, her control snapped. She tossed her napkin aside and pushed herself up from her seat, "This is madness Your Grace. Your father had every reason in the world to snatch it away. And you just want to give it back!" Her voice was spiced with every form of irritation, one which made all members of the table gawk at her in shock.
Philip just studied his mother, seemingly trying to find his own fault in the matter. When that sounded slightly impossible, he went back to reasoning with her, "But mother I own it now and I don't need it. I have no use of it, and here are people like Monica being homeless here in England."
The Duchess's glare moved from her son to the red haired damsel. She suddenly felt a small pain of helpless in her throat, knowing it was highly impossible for Philip to make sense of the situation unless she stressed why. "That land is endowed with…" she began but was immediately cut off by her son.
"Is that what this is all about mother," The Duke asked with pained eyes, "The gold! Not you too!"
Rebecca realized he had mistaken her. But instead of fighting back as always, she took a deep breath and calmed down, "You don't understand my son. Monica can't just come out of a populace and make outrageous requests like that. What do you even stand to gain?"
Philip had no wish to answer that. And he didn't.
When the silence went on for a while, Monica gasped with a mischievous smile, obviously about to say something even more outrageous, "Well I owe him my life if he gives my people their home back." She dragged her green, teasing eyes to the Duke who had begun to watch her intently, "He may turn me to whichever he may please. A second wife maybe… or even a mistress."
Another wave of dead silence fell over the room. Earl and Jason were smiling though, mainly at her guts.
Philip himself lowered his glass from his mouth, an unreadable look on his face. However, if he was displeased by her suggestion, he did not show it.
The only time everyone tore their gazes from Monica was when his mother began to laugh angrily, "So what is this? Some sort of marital trade?" She faced her son one more time and spat, "You are making a joke out of your father's hard work and you know it. You know what Your Grace…" she pushed her seat back and stepped away from the table, "Do whatever you want. Anything that becomes of it will be borne by you alone and your father and I will be disappointed." She then marched out of the luncheon room much to everyone's relief.
Everyone expect Philip. He had a small frown on, not even reacting when Monica dropped her spoon and walked away through the doors as well, without a single word or clear emotion. It was obvious though she was pissed.
Anna had followed her mother dutifully, leaving Philip alone with his friends all staring at him.
He was surely expected to say something after all that drama had happened but he remained quiet, pushing his fork through his food and chunking it down like nothing had changed.