Chapter thirty seven
Placing the dish upon the counter, Elizabeth swirled herself round the house with a grin on. She found herself being happy for some reason she did not quite understand.
She made a circle with her dress and went on gliding upon the marbles.
But then, it was about to be short-lived.
She felt a hand clutch her wrist tightly just before she was pulled in through a door.
As she came to her balance, her hands first came up to arrange her hair, then nurse her wrist.
Now who was that peacock who could have pulled her like…
As she looked up, her mouth opened in shock. Wasn't it charm himself…
"Earl! What…what is the matter with you?" Elizabeth cast him a look that should have scared him.
However, the Marquess was nonchalant. If he reacted in anyway obvious, it was just a roll of his eyes, "I should ask you the same thing. What evil deed of yours were you trying to pull Monica into?"
Her open mouth closed as she blinked blankly at him. "And what does that have to do with you?" The question was genuine and straight, asked with a hint of irritation.
"Don't let me squeeze the words out of you," he made a gesture with his hands as though to strangle her. But after a breath of two of self control, he restrained, "You have your last chance."
The blonde did not waver at his action. Instead, her gaze studied him while her arms crossed over her chest. "Why not pull Monica just like this and threaten her to your own peril?"
Her words made Earl grin at her for the first time, no matter how sarcastic it was, "Oh you two are very different. She can tear me in half."
"Well I have a deadly aim for shots," she spat back immediately.
She smirked some more when he glared at her hidden threat.
Obviously that went a long way to wound his hunting skills. "I feel insulted," he rattled and pinned his eyes upon her.
Now the Marquess took two steps closer. And when she didn't walk backwards, he was inches away from her body, "Well I would have suggested a dual but I do not like you." Then he marched past her after a purposeful bump on her shoulder.
The lady rolled her eyes, heaved a sigh of relief and went the other way.
***
They rode for hours without a word between them.
Philip was already feeling awkward…and hungry.
"When are we returning Monica? I am beginning to crave for food," by then he had gathered enough courage to break their silence.
Her response shocked him to his toes.
The Scottish grinned and stopped her horse, jumping down abruptly and suddenly, "Luckily, I brought cake!"
The Duke glared at her for a while. When she didn't look up to meet his eyes, he obeyed very slowly. After coming to touch the grass with his feet, he asked, "You expect us to have cake in the middle of the woods?"
"Exotic, isn't it," she rasped while she laid a large piece of silk on the grass for them.
She ignored the man's eyes that still rested on her actions. He wasn't sure exactly what to do, or expect. But obediently, he sat and watched her serve him.
Deep down, the reason for his uneasiness embarrassed him. Being this alone with a lady, especially one like Monica, wasn't something he did everyday. Now he was prone to every bit of temptation he was sure she was going to pull.
Till then…
When she was done with placing cake on saucers for both of them, she sat beside him with her legs crossed, studying him bite on the snack in a way that showed he had really been hungry.
It was strange to notice how she found that view attractive. And for the millionth time, she found herself gawking greedily, her breath quickening because she didn't know any being more beautiful.
The cake could wait…he was tastier.
Philip was getting uncomfortable as expected. Anyone being stared at like that would. "Staring is rude Monica," he didn't look up from his food when he said the words.
"I agree," her reply came immediately. Then she sighed and gave a smile  "But admiration has never been a sin."
Finally, he raised his gaze from the cake and looked met those luring green eyes of hers. Color flushed his cheeks in a way Monica had noticed before. "You find me attractive," The Duke blinked innocently after the question, hiding the way her words always affected him.
But this lady wasn't done with him. With a grin, she leaned in closer and whispered, "Ahh… the best I've ever seen Your Grace."
Now he dropped his plate. Maybe he should give her his full attention, play along, and maybe only then will they know how this round of flirting will end.
"You are very aware your cousin and I are getting married in a week's time. And here you are flirting with me in the middle of nowhere." Philip tipped his head to gesture around them, an almost lifeless world of trees.
Out of every possible reaction she should have given to that, Monica snickered softly.
"And what is so funny about that," asked the Duke with raised brows.
Monica Maitland adjusted so she looked at him. With her legs still crossed before her, she stopped smiling, "In case you have forgotten, I am that same Scottish damsel who has been against this marriage of yours from day one. Unless you want her dead of course."
Philip knew he shouldn't be smiling, but he was.
Now he braced himself for whatever was to happen right now, "And what was your reason again?"
The lady enjoyed the closeness of their bodies. After dropping her eyes to admire those lush lips of his, she rasped, "Well it is a very selfish one Your Grace."
"Do tell," a spark of interest coursed through him and he didn't even mind any body contact this time.
Monica looked him in the eye. As much as she vowed to master control, she felt herself in that lustful trance all over again. And the son of a gun was smiling back at her. "I want you all to myself," she confessed and gasped shamefully.
The words brought an end to the moment as he leaned back away from her and took his previous pose with eyes on the cake. "And why," the confusion in his tone was evident…and pitiful.
"To be honest," the Scottish started truthfully as she brought her eyes low, "My letter then was all because I disliked Elizabeth. But the reason changed after the night we danced. I saw you for the very first time and felt this newfound…peace."
Philip smiled silently. If he once doubted any good in what was about her, she just cleared it all. He knew she should have snatched this bait a long time ago. But then Elizabeth came into his mind every single time, even when he wished it shouldn't.
And looking at her, he couldn't let go. There had to be a way…
The Duke faced her again and confided, "Tell me Monica. If you were betrothed to someone, and I come confessing love to you, what would you do?"
The question pleased her so much she smiled again, "I would do what I always do. Take what I want…you!"
He gave another warm smile, "So you advice I take whoever it is I please, betrothed or not?"
The lady nodded slowly and sweetly, "The question now Your Grace is…who do you want?"
He eyed her through without a word, unknowingly giving her the answer she was looking for.
And she used that answer to her very advantage. Baring her teeth seductively, she said, "I will give you freedom. You know I am that dream woman you have always wanted."
The Duke had never pictured in his entire life that a woman would say this to him, but oh how awfully right was she there and then.
There was no going back now. He had made up his mind to flow in whatever direction his mind chose to go, "I know you are."
She smiled and crawled to him. After Monica had cradled his face in one hand, she waited for any reaction on his part.
When he just gasped the gesture, she decided to go on tempting.
Her eyes left his to study his lips attentively. She didn't even know when her breathing doubled.
It was obvious what she wanted…even to Philip. But unlike other times, there was absolutely no strength to stop her from doing it at the moment. Even when she leaned in and began raising her face to reach his, he didn't flinch a muscle.
Eyes closed,  the Duke finally felt those lips on his. And all thoughts fled…
It took  a peaceful stroke of her tongue on his to make him realise he had always wanted this.
Strangely this act calmed something very deep inside of him, he decided to return the favor.
Philip cupped her face with one hand, just before Monica pulled the other over her hips. The trading of tongue was passionate and confusingly soothing, in contrast with the woman's usually rough personality.
This was no action to calm their libidos; it was an almost innocent way to seal the agreement they'd silently made.
Or maybe he was the only one who saw it that way.
His breathing rate doubled when he felt teeth bite his lower lip and hands ruffle with his hair. That made him break the contact to look at her with a frown; a confused, helpless frown displaying desire in his eyes.
It was time to steal that control she had before now. This time, he pushed her gently so her back laid upon the grass, and she hadn't blinked once before his lips stole hers again, exploring, seizing and devouring. It wasn't as slow and innocent as two seconds ago.
Now as his brains lost its power to reason, he obeyed a much greater urge…letting his hands cradle places he'd never felt in his entire life.