Chapter twenty six
Earl, as pesky as always, decided to break the lustful aura of his favorite friend. While stalking behind Philip, he patted his shoulder playfully and rasped his words, "She's all yours Your Grace. You see such a fiery woman and you play the committed man."
While Philip chose to ignore and roll his eyes away, his libido successfully broken, Jason and Nax chuckled in agreement.
Now back to the matter at hand, the whole Anfield clan watched their bait walk up to their target and waited expectantly and deep in concentration. Even Peter had reduced his women to a single lass who fed grapes to him. It was such a fun show.
Monica reached the Baron's table and sat herself upon it, using her hand to support her weight and arching her hip upwards. That pose was the most tempting for the middle aged Roothewell Henchele. While he smiled up at the woman on his table, he offered her a glass of whatever he was drinking.
Monica shook her head in denial, tipping it instead towards the direction of the doorway leading away from the big hall.
The Baron smirked appreciably and held a hand out for her. With a luring smile, she complied, slipping her little hand into his.
The Duke frowned while he watched the man walk her out of the party. As if Earl had been waiting for that, he gave Philip a rub on his hair and declared, "Do not fuss Your Grace. She won't sleep with him."
Philip stood and faked a glower, "As if it affects me in any way." At that, he walked away, making the rest of his allies join him from every side.
Nax was the happiest, his blade sharpening was finally going to pay off. Even Peter had kept his woman aside and moved to a different exit.
***
The Duchy of St Ives had several large brick buildings linked with high simple bridges made of concrete. A decent body of water lay beneath each of them, and the grasses around were mere beauty.
In the dark of night, the surrounding seemed quieter than usual…and empty, given the main deal was in Lord Edward's massive hall.
Monica pulled the drunk Baron behind her, crossing one of the concrete bridges leading to the empire's tower.
Lord Roothewell grinned lustfully, staggering as he let her lead him. However, his patience was breaking while she kept on swirling her waist like that. After more seconds of temptation, he stopped in his tracks and pulled her into his arms.
Well that was all she needed to lose her patience as well. Monica hit him with a fist, grabbed his arm and pulled him over her shoulder to the ground.
The Baron frowned and tried to stagger up when she came above him and hit his head with the arch of her elbow, making him lose consciousness.
She slipped out a knife that had been hiding beneath her clothing and dragged the Baron along the floor with his hand in her grip, the knife held up in case of any trespassers.
***
"Where is she?" Philip grunted while he paced up and down.
Jason smirked and bowed his gaze unbelievably. When he looked at his friend again, he shook his head and grinned,"You don't suppose she's sleeping with that pig, do you?"
"We'll I've always known her as a lass with taste," Earl added with a genuine smile.
Philip was just about to state a million other ways how her absence could be risky when a loud bang landed on the tower door.
Fearfully, they turned and glanced at it, then at each other before they all pulled out their weapons simultaneously. Obviously, they were not going to fall for the trick and open the door to whatever threat they might receive.
After the knocker seemed to have lost patience, he kicked the door hard that it fell flat open. Then he…a she? Well no ordinary lass had that much strength.
Monica tossed the unconscious Baron into the tower and looked around at the men with her, "He's disgusting."
The Duke looked down at the man just before his gaze widened in astonishment. With a speed of a fox, he dashed over to the body, "You were not supposed to kill him yet Monica!"
She glanced at him with a frown. With a non-chalant shrug, the lady walked deeper into the room, "There are several more realms I  could knock him into apart from death. But by God, I almost killed him."
"In simple terms," Earl of Vetcom asked, "You knocked him unconscious?"
The reaction he expected was just intensified. With a loud, frustrated groan, Monica faced him with a flash of anger, "Do you always have to spoil the fun? I mean you disagree with me all the time."
Jason raised his hands in shock and plain innocence, "I was…" but soon after, realized it was pointless arguing with her. Afterwards, he took his attention to something else which had been bothering his thoughts of late. His eyes travelled down her almost bare body, "Could you not have found any disguise less intoxicating? I mean the men in there went into some dead-like trance when they saw you."
That seemed to put a smile on the lady's face, another reaction he did not expect. With a smirk on, Monica arched her waist knowingly, "Do I not entice you My Lord?"
At her words, she noticed a tinge of red color flush up his cheeks while he gawked at her in disbelief. When she arched a brow teasingly, all he did was smile childishly.
"But I daresay you look beautiful," The Marquess came into the conversation and stated with his usual charm.
During all this madness, the Duke had been quiet with his glare on them.
Along with him, Nax seemed to be the only other sensible person in the room, "How do we wake Lord Roothewell?"
Philip replied immediately with a marked tone of sarcasm, "Oh I was just waiting for these three to be done flirting!"
While Earl and Monica grinned, Jason found his words wounding to his ego he spent all his life to build, "In that case, then keep your mistress away from me!"
Philip smiled at his use of "mistress" but ignored and searched the tower for anything useful. A rag leaned against the wall, right beside a wooden bucket of water. At the realisation, the Duke smiled and went for the bucket.
In accordance, Monica pulled the Baron by his hair and arched his neck upwards, surrendering his face to a good position for Philip to splash the water on.
After that had been done, the eight leaned and watched as the man bounced into consciousness, gasping uncontrollably and looking around to register his location, "Who are you? Where am I?"
Monica smiled at him and took the introductions quite seriously. With a small curtsy, she said, "I am Monica Maitland."
As she already expected, the color on the man's face drained completely. But no, he didn't have time to think of what she'll do to him. Immediately, he rushed to his feet and ran for the door.
However, he found a tall, built man in a military uniform standing right in the doorway. Nax smirked and turned the man around to face the noblemen once more.
Roothewell just had his gaze circling around Monica with a cloud of wonder, "You are the Scottish maiden, aren't you?"
Although that sounded more like a statement than a question, she answered anyway. Just as Monica held up her knife, she began stalking to him, "No. I'm your biggest nightmare."
***
Mathayus and Nichols led the group of soldiers across the third bridge leading to the tower from the party.
Their walks were quick but quiet, rushing because they swore they sighted the Anfield clan go through the exact spot.
They made it into a hallway and turned to the flight of spiral stairs which disappeared upward. It was a tower of course. But even with the distance between them and their targets, Mathayus kept barking orders, "Spare no life! Do you hear! A bunch of young lads and a lady can never beat our clan. Prove your worth or die trying!"
The order seemed to be well understood. But annoyingly, the steps leading to the high tower room was endless, proving to boost their determination even more.