Chapter twenty three
Monica wrapped her arms around his neck as he walked her through the doorway. He looked down at the lady in his arms to find her gaze on him as well, those cunning green eyes and mischievous smirk. Only God knew what she was thinking.
Some footmen were already busy lifting their luggages into the massive new home, taking a chance to secretly glance at the pair who were just being children.
The rest of the males followed Philip behind with their eyes drinking in the look of the mansion. They seemed pleased enough. Even Jason had a frown on, a good of course. One of the most pleasing looks he could give. It was that beautiful.
All the corners of the large hall they'd arrived into stretched through a doorway either to open up into another hall or a hallway.  The floors were a shade of dark blue terrazzo, matching daringly with the white plaster which was the top.
Three massive chandeliers hung with equal spaces between them, accompanied by much smaller ones scattered around. The walls held an imperial Beach design just behind the portraits of expensive artwork. In all, the home had a majestic appearance.
The Duke bent to place Monica gently on the cushion that felt like it was stuffed with feathers. As she sunk into the softness, it dawned on her it was time to let him go now.
Although it was not common for her to follow rules, she pulled her arms away from around his neck and the familiar feeling of loneliness returned.
The man noticed her change of mood and grinned at it. While he now stood straight, he declared to his entire clan as more and more footmen passed them with bags and weapons that belonged to them, "There's a ball tomorrow night, at Lord Edward's empire. We shall be attending, marking our foundation for what we came for."
His allies all seemed to understand him. Satisfied, he smirked and glanced over his shoulder at the Scottish, "In the meantime, I'd help Monica get fixed."
Abruptly, the lady looked up in wonder as a bright glow lit her eyes. In no time, she was sure to have him doing her every bidding, wrapped between her fingers and certainly, away from Elizabeth's clutches.
***
"Your father and the late Duke were very good friends," Rebecca said softly and raised a hand to her chest just before she added, "Bless their souls."
Elizabeth was stalking right beside the Duchess with her attention not necessarily on what she was going on about. Her eyes swept round the entire surrounding of the empire, relishing the beauty of the place she would have to herself soon enough. While they made it round the walkway, the lawns and flowers pulled her to themselves in a somewhat magnetic manner. So magnetic she plucked a few she couldn't resist. Even with her marriage with the Duke ten days from then, it was just so much a temptation to ignore.
After a short while of silence though, she turned to Rebecca and said, "I'm aware my lady. And Monica's mother, my aunt that is…had quite a liking for your husband."
A heavy sigh escaped the Duchess's nostrils, making her pause in her tracks. She took one unnecessary look at her hands which were clasped together for reasons of nervousness, "But somehow, His Grace was a little bit more attached to me.  And when I got married to him, I landed up on Miriam's bad book."
The blonde was listening this time, nodding in sheer understanding, "And I suppose the reason she came back was for him?"
"Not quite," Rebecca turned to stare at her, bracing her hands upon her hips for something like strength, "She moved on. She never really quit loving my husband, but at least she understood she could do nothing about it. So…she settled for Maitland Avani, second son of Kilmarnock's Duke."
Elizabeth smiled slightly when she remembered the story that happened many years back, "My father had quite a problem with their union if I remember correctly. I guess then, marriage was all about building up the Monarchy. Sir Maitland was never believed to become Duke until when his elder brother died."
The impression the Duchess felt was hidden in a small smirk. However, the woman nodded at her knowledge approvingly and resumed the walk once more, "Then finally, Maitland succeeded in becoming Duke of Kilmarnock. We thought everyone would be finally happy. But then…"
Elizabeth had a tiny frown that was clearly of confusion. As she faced the older woman again, she asked, "Miriam wasn't still satisfied even after her husband gained power?"
The following silence made her know the next information was going to be something totally new.
The lass's anxiety just grew as she narrowed her eyes and pinned Rebecca with the cold, expectant gaze, "Why did Miriam run away from Scotland?"
The duchess sighed again, seemingly getting ready to say something that she'd not said in a while, "It seemed it wasn't the power she wanted. Everything was fine until two things happened that changed the way Maitland saw things."
She didn't wait for Elizabeth to nudge her this time before she went on, "First of all, gold was discovered in amounts that could bring Scotland power if channelled into war. And secondly," this was where Rebecca calmed her story and looked at the other lady, "Monica was born."
Unexpectedly, the blonde snickered unbelievably, rolling her eyes in a way that proved she was getting totally confused. When she frowned back at the duchess again, she inquired, "How did Monica's birth make Miriam chase after your husband?"
"Miriam never chased after my husband," Rebecca replied much to Elizabeth's shock. Obviously, no matter how much she knew about the story, she didn't know this. The old lady went on anyways, "She came back to England to help us, warn us about her husband's motives of betrayal."
Elizabeth became dumb for a while, trying to understand the story painfully, "So the villain here is…"
The Duchess shrugged and looked at her, giving her the permission to pick whoever she might please. Elizabeth just frowned though, still finding the possibility a bit odd. So the elder lady gladly gave her a hand, "Yes the villain here is Monica's father. I'm not sure she herself knows that. Scotland found a higher chance of taking over England when all that fortune was found. Despite the friendship he had with my husband, he agreed to the war when King of Scotland made him a small offer."
The blonde had been nodding in understanding for the last few seconds, even being able to fill up the gap herself, "I suppose Miriam ran away then to let you know about it. Did you not make any threats or advances whatsoever to scare Maitland away?"
"Ahhhh," she replied, "we did of course, and it almost worked. Almost… until that red haired damsel became the person she is now at a very young age."
Elizabeth couldn't help but smile inside a bit. Seems her cousin was more of a rebel then assumed, although she didn't quite understand what the older lady was talking about, "I never knew this. What did Monica have to do with the war, she was just a child."
Rebecca did not seem to want to answer immediately. She just smirked and looked forward, rounding the bend around the fish shaped fountain. "It's almost like two complementary things, like coal and fire," she finally explained, "With a warrior like that in their country, and all that gold, she was the best person for all their lethal motives. She's living up to that expectation as we can see. The most threatening maiden I know. If she wasn't used then to take over England, it might have well been considered a big waste on their side."
A deep frown settled upon the lass's brows when she gave herself a quick recap of the entire story. Kilmarnock was seized inorder to prevent a war. But that same duchy was just about to be returned, "And if they successfully give Kilmarnock back to Monica, she'll definitely come back to end the whole of England."
Rebecca's eyes had already become moist while thinking about the possibility, "I warned Philip…"
She continued blabbering some words the blonde didn't care to listen to. Right now, she was in her own realm of shock. The entire revelation did not seem to have fully sunk in yet. It's either Monica got the wrong story just like everyone else did or she had the selfish blood of her father. It scared her nevertheless. When she looked around, all she saw was the size and beauty of the Forland empire. Imagine it crumbling down in pieces because of a war that would hold in the near future if Monica wasn't stopped.
She had to go to London immediately, with or without Philip's call.
***
Philip knocked on her door for the third time without a reply. He wasn't finding this amusing in any way. He could have sworn she had disobeyed as always and left the room he asked her not to. But at least the doors weren't locked.
Slowly, he pushed them open with a long creak sound and peeped in. It was dark, and clearly empty. Just as he thought.
He analysed the entire chamber while at the doorway, the table side, the bed, balcony, she was nowhere to be found.
As stupid as he thought it was, be still called out her name anyways, now taking a few steps into the room, "Monica! Monica!"
No response.
Now the lad sighed and kept on rebuking the walls, "I had said you wait for me! Now where in Neptune's have you…"
"I'm here Your Grace," a faint feminine voice interrupted from around him. He knew he had heard it loud and clear. Yet, there was no one. And he was also certain he was not out of his mind.
The only other room leading from this one was far smaller, clearly left for bathing purposes.
With a fist clenched in frustration, be began striding towards it, "I told you to stay here, not in the…"
He paused in his speech when he pushed the door open, finding Monica naked in a bath tub.
Her body was dipped into the hot, soapy bath with her shoulders and head popping out of it.
Still, Philip watched in shock and silence, realising this particular lass was a bit psycho than any he'd ever seen.
Monica was not unaware of the trance she'd put the young Duke into. However, she grinned and feigned innocence, "My apologies Your Grace. I supposed stripping would give you better access to my wounds."
Philip swallowed now and gave her the coldest look he could force, "This is madness Monica."
"Why Your Grace," she tilted her head and eyed him to his toes, teasing in the most seductive manner she knew, "I am willing to submit myself like this and more anytime you want." Her words came as rasp, "And besides, you are helping me greatly, it's the least I could do."
"What about…"
She cut his words off with a loud groan she faked. The Duke just glared in silence as she pleaded, "My wounds need treatment Your Grace. We won't do that if you stay there arguing all night, you promised…"
He hesitated and continued to watch her give him those fake, teary eyes. Annoyed, he looked away and clutched the bottle of rum he held. When he had submitted to her will, he sighed and walked to the front end of the tub.
As Philip squatted to meet her back, he inevitably looked at the arch of it in admiration. It was a fair tone of smooth, succulent curves now disfigured by that deep cut which looked unsightly and dangerous.
He clutched her red hair and manouevered it over her shoulder to her front, giving him full view of his assignment now.
His finger up to the deep, bloody groove, stroking the entire length of it with a gentle touch.
Monica's eyes widened as she gasped. It was shameful to even herself how she found something that painful excite her just because he touched it.
The Duke just smirked and ignored her reaction, going on with what he was busy with. But just out of curiosity and fun, he did it again, and this time, Monica leaned backwards so she was so close to him.
"That was a dangerous move Your Grace," she warned, "do that again and we may not leave here the same."