Two cunning damsels. Five friends who are not helping And a Duke on the verge of a dilemma as he makes the decision that will change everything. Blinded by the desire to get her home back, Monica Maitland decides to play the Duke of Anfield into fulfilling her every desire. But when emotions set in, it takes the highest form of cruelty to ignore them in the quest for happiness. Philip Forland however gives a deaf ear to every warning he's received, switching the identities of heroes and villains as he's blinded by his love for Monica. Meanwhile, she's the devil behind the scenes, striving to destroy everything that once destroyed her. Until she realises, maybe the real villain here wasn't who she thought it was.
View MoreChapter one
Liverpool,
England.
1643.
***
Arching his elbows, he tapped the bow lightly. In split of a second, he shot the arrow.
The Marquess smiled at his friend, comparing their shots, "You never miss a chance to show me my place, do you?"
Philip Forland lowered his arms, tossing the bow to the ground, "I'm a born Archer. One of the few things I learnt from my father, The Duke."
The Marquess, Earl Robinson started towards the rest, "Oh how I'd love to crush those hopes totally. Let's go fishing, or horse riding," he smirked wickedly before concluding, "Or even hunting."
Philip shook his head with a smile, ignoring his friend. He looked forward at the other men, Earl of Vetcom and Prince of England, Jason Ferma and Raymond Louis, pulling on the straps of their horses to get on them.
Staring at nothing, the Prince sat upon his beast and gave Earl a befitting remark, "Let me take a wild guess, Philip emerged victorious as always."
Earl grinned charmingly and responded, "Well if you ask me..."
"That was not a question," retorted the Prince.
By then, the potential Duke had joined them on the lawn, "Let him be Raymond. I strongly believe he'll win in hunting."
The Prince laughed hard and turned his beast around, "I'll bet my father's throne he won't."
The Marquess was not offended. He grinned as always, determined however to prove them all wrong.
Turning around, he watched the last two and shouted at the top of his voice, "Peter! Timothy! Come along, we're going hunting."
Jason just glared at them, a small smile on his face.
***
Duchess of Anfield, Rebecca Forland entered the diner and sat beside the head seat. Her eyes moved to the shrimp cake at the center of the table, then to the cook who served her, "You have really outdone yourself today. The Duke's favourite." At her husband's name, she frowned and asked, "Where is he anyway?"
Carol Garlesh turned gloomy, her face ashen white, "I do not know my lady. His Grace has not come down since morning."
Rebecca raised a brow, pushing herself up from the chair, "Well why did you not check on him?"
Carol watched the Duchess stride away from the room, a determined look on her face. She followed dutifully down the long hallway, the floor turning cold under her feet.
The mansion was one of a kind. Built back in late fifteenth century with the finest foreign blocks, it was one of the biggest along with the King's palace. Almost surrounded by water, except for the small lawns and the bridge that led to the gate.
Inside of it was a new story itself, refurnished with dark green marbles almost the whole height of the mansion. All the hallways had a familiar look, narrow, long and dark lined with sculptures and pictures that stole attention.
At that moment however, the duchess was not distracted by them. She turned to her right after the long, straight walk, the Duke's door facing her. That was when she realized the severity of the situation. There was dead silence.
Placing her hand on the knob, she gasped and turned it.
Carol perked her head up and looked through the doorway, a hand over her mouth in shock.
***
The gazelle grazed in peace, relishing the gift life had to offer, with full Oblivion the life was coming to an end.
A bullet pierced through its head so quickly it could not complete its last breath.
The Marquess walked to it, hovering above its body with a proud pose, "That is one kill for me. Two to go."
Timothy, Raymond's elder brother gave a non-chalant huff at his friend, "I'd have killed half a dozen with that same time."
"Hunting is an art," Earl began those his irrelevant lectures again, "It requires skill, training and..."
A gunshot stopped his speech. Philip had caught a boar.
The potential Duke sent him a sarcastic glare, "I'm sorry I did not quite hear that. Was it something about me being better than you in basically everything?"
Earl Robinson pressed his lips to hide a smile. He was used to this kind of torture from all of them already, "Well Philip. Let's go deeper, just you and I. The first to hunt down a warthog becomes superior to the other for a whole week." Immediately, the potential Duke gave an upside down smile, confirming his acceptance to the deal.
Warthogs were not an easy sight in this part of the country. However, it seemed things were turning out to be on Earl's side. He nuzzled his gun, aiming at the giant beast it took over ten minutes to find. Smiling, he placed a finger slowly on the trigger, ready to pull and be superior to Philip for seven whole days. Somehow though, he forgot that things weren't all that easy in life.
The Marquess caught sight of his opponent a few feet away, aiming at the exact warthog he had found, trying to STEAL his price.
Philip sent him a daring stare and they immediately crouched again, aiming at the animal intently.
They both were about to pull the trigger, but suddenly, Philip frowned, "Do you hear that Earl?"
"My songs of victory. Oh yes Philip, loud and clear!" The Marquess replied.
But the sound drew nearer, making Philip curiously stand upright to analyze the surrounding, "I am being serious my friend."
The pig galloped away, making Earl reluctantly listen to his friend, "Thank you for nothing. What in the world's name are you hearing?!"
The potential Duke looked around and listened some more, "It sounds like… like an army approaching with angry horses. Do you not hear horse steps?"
Earl Robinson frowned when he realized Philip was right, "I hear it. What do we do?"
The sound got closer and frightening and automatically, both men set themselves in a position to shoot at any threat.
Now it was more than just sounds, Philip could actually see men on horses.
The man who led the others waved a hand frantically at him, as if trying to identify himself.
The potential Duke narrowed his eyes, giving the approaching men a closer look, "Lower your gun Earl! They are my father's men!"
Earl yanked his arms down, shaking his head and spitting his words, "I lost my warthog for absolutely no reason."
Philip almost smiled. But then, he realised his father had never sent soldiers after him before. Meaning something was wrong.
Commander O'Neil,chief of the clan descended his horse, giving both men a light bow, "My Lords. The duchess asks for your presence in the empire immediately."
Philip tried his best to disguise the fear in his voice, choosing his words carefully, "Why? Is anything wrong?"
The older man looked up at him, daring to keep the eye contact as he gasped, "It's the Duke."
Philip sent his friend a worried look and swallowed.
***
Priests filled the large mansion, whispering prayers while the family mourned in the background.
Rebecca Forland still stared at the Duke's corpse, hoping he would move somehow. But…it just lay there, still and lifeless.
The oldest priest stalked to her side, glancing down at her husband while saying things that were meant to be a consolation.
The Duchess however, wasn't listening. It was just left for Philip to arrive.
Just then the six lads marched through the double doors in utmost hurry. As they approached the diner, Philip lost patience and broke into a run, through a melee of mourning relatives. His father being dead was a news so sudden and unbelievable he still doubted till now.
Stopping beside his mother, he asked, "What happened?"
And there it was, the Duke's body, wrapped in white, something Philip felt was all a dream.
Rebecca replied sternly, "I opened the door and found him like this. It was so sudden and quiet."
Philip felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to meet Raymond who had a frown on, "It's going to be fine. The priest needs to see you."
He obeyed quietly, shock and disbelief evident in his steps.
Father Ramiro faked a smile at the lad, "All we should think of now is your father's achievements my boy. He did well. But with him gone, you'll have to take over as the new Duke."
When he saw the tears in Philip's eyes, he walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, "You may be too young for this. But when the rest mourn, men stand and think of a way forward. And that's what you'll do. Think of how to be better than His Grace ever was."
Philip gasped and nodded weakly. Unknown to the priest, he wasn't crying because of all this. He was crying because it meant his entire life was going to change. Hunting with Earl, arching with Jason or swimming with Peter.
He was going to be Duke of Anfield.
Chapter sixtyTons of majordomos had been hired for the job, a dangerous one given the risk of being trampled upon. Continuously, they nudged their bodies against the crowd at either side of the cobbled street.As Elizabeth had put it, it was the grandest event in England; everyone wanted to see!Two carriages made of white oak and gold prints rolled upon the stones just between the hustling and bustling lines of the crowd at their sides. The majordomos were almost having trouble keeping them behind the invisible tape. But when the carriages came to a halt, the uproar just doubled.Uniformly, footmen stalked to the doors and pulled them open, tipping their bodies down in a half bow for whoever was to emerge.Now everywhere quietened except for the murmur streak of anxious waiters.Carriage one released the English blonde, bound in a dress that almost filled the space behind her. As she was helped down the steps, the sun came in contact with the gems on her white garment, shimmering wi
Chapter fifty nineThe Duke found himself in a mix of feelings. Admiration. Wonder. Gratitude. Love.And slowly, he let go of his own sword and widened his arms invitingly, "Then get in here before I change my mind."Damnation to her spine and ego. Monica let tears run down her cheeks as she half ran to the lad.Jason was smiling in admiration.Anna and Rebecca felt a new warmth in their hearts.The Princes were nodding approvingly.Earl Robinson burst out laughing in mirth as he let the scene rage his mind.Speaking of happy endings, Earl suddenly had a frown on before, later on, he started across the snow." Where are you going?" Asked Raymond worriedly.The Marquess faced his friends one last time to say, "Anywhere apart from here. While getting too engrossed in such a beautiful scene. I forgot the vessel for bad luck I left at home who'll soon become Marchioness of my empire.""Good thing I'm married," Jason smiled, "who knows she may have chosen me for such a suicide mission."Ea
Chapter fifty eightIt had been nearly hell for the lass. Now it was useless threatening to kill one of them. As Monica gawked at the angry mob of armed noblemen, she realised unfortunately that no height of her skills could change the fact she was greatly outnumbered.She had started to shiver while they kept closing in on her. Even the victim she had in her clutch finally managed to free himself from her shaky grip.Now she was there, naked to any attack they planned to lay upon her. Now she had no choice but to do that one thing she hated most; surrender.Ever so slowly, she lifted both her hands in the air and glanced through the people. But then;"Move away! His Grace approaches," the loud voice came from somewhere within the crowd, stealing attention and causing a murmur streak.Monica gasped fearful. The last way she wanted to die was by the hands of the one she loved. Now she was trapped, he had come to end this once and for all.Now the crowd parted into two to form a path in
Chapter fifty seven"Earl!" She grinned and almost went to embrace him. Rather than what the Marquess should have done, he frowned and stepped back from the window through which he'd thrown it. After a wave of dismissal, he snarled, "I knew Jason was up to no good. Now get out of here before we both get caught."The lady obeyed instantly, jumping to her feet and pacing towards the stables. That was when the real war began.The crowd rushed to her sadistically, almost surrounding her. She joined her lips to a line. As much as she was desperate to flee, she vowed not to kill any, as innocent as each as. But a little bone breaking won't hurt wouldn't it?Even with the impossibility, Monica stopped and began throwing fists and avoiding attacks coming her way. With her actions, the number was increasing and closing in on her. New plan…She suddenly remembered how the bonds existing between members of a clan and how sentimental they could be about each other. At the thought, she reached fo
Chapter fifty sixThe men stopped and faced her, fear almost shielding their beautiful features. A pistol was aimed at them, but better scrutiny made them realise the attack was posed to Philip.Monica stalked deeper with the aim of her gun straight at the brown haired lad. But as much as his friends were tensed, the Duke hadn't batted an eyelid. Instead, he glared straight at her, into those sad, green eyes, daring her to shoot."Don't be insane Monica!" Peter said with a voice forced into a low growl. "Drop the weapon!"The lady never flinched a muscle. And while she thought her move was fearfully and threatening, Philip Forland just smiled at her, "Save your breaths, she won't shoot." He tilted his head, turning it into a grin just before he sighed, "She can't."Monica's stare hardened narrowly. And of course, she knew he was right. He knew her, her strengths, her weaknesses, capabilities, inside…through and out.And the familiar feeling of vulnerability before him dawned. The grip
Chapter fifty fiveMonica knew she was running out of time; her restlessness had just increased now that her movement was restricted to within the borders of the estate.And then the new marriage date was approaching.For the first time since her imprisonment, she looked at the doors with obvious intentions. After taking deep, necessary breaths, she strode to them and shoved them open.Her strides doubled, then tripled...until she began running upon the marbles. Dark hallways, galleries, stairs, foyers and even more stairs before the Duchess's drawing room faced her.That was the point she realized she was insane. Well she was that a long time ago, wasn't she. Monica had smiled at the thought and finally gone through the doors.Seems mother and daughter were deep in a serious conversation...Rebecca rushed to her feet in what looked like fright.Anna however, frowned disapprovingly at the lady before them.But the frown turned to something lighter and slightly confused when Monica fel
Chapter fifty four"I wish things returned to the way they were," the Marquess confessed with his gaze on Philip. The latter was arching again some distance away from the rest. He was unusually fast and aggressive, harbouring a frown that had never left his face since dawn.Raymond sighed and replied, "Why did she have to run away? I want to forgive her completely. But then, it seems far more difficult than it should be."Nobody wanted to reply to that, but it did change the aura to something dark. For more moments than they knew, they studied the young Duke far away vent his frustration on the arrow board.After pretending long enough, he flung his weapons aside and sucked in long, needed breaths.Earl of Vetcom frowned at that and finally heaved a sigh, "I need to correct this." He turned to leave.Before he could walk away, Earl Robinson declared sternly, "I may not be in the know of what nonsense you plan to do. But for things go back to how they were , Monica needs to return to o
Chapter fifty-threePhilip leaned back in his chair and swivelled with both legs upon his desk, goofing around with a gun in his hands and a wicked smirk on. His five friends took simpler seats around him with their gazes in one direction; before them.With her hands still tied to her back, Monica was shoved down her knees right before their very eyes, red hair falling over her face to shield half the grim she had on. They were smirking down at her like a prize they'd finally won!Monica almost spat at the majordomo who had ruthlessly handled her through the crowd of guests, into a carriage, right through the empire's gates and up the stairs.But now, she faced the Monarchs with her teeth gritted and jaws clenched, her eyes travelling round them in the angriest of stares. Sweat dripped down her bowed face and trickled down to the floor.It was the Duke's next words that brought her attention up to them again, "How do you want it lads, an arrow through her skull or her head under a gui
Chapter fifty-twoThe last few days flowed routinely and looked like an attempt to fix everything that was once ruined. The days of revival.The Duke's empire had been filled with hustling and bustling movements for the forthcoming wedding. If the Dowager Duchess had never been serious with anything in her life, she took this phase of trials easily and tried to restore the estate, even if it was the last thing she did. At least to give Philip time to get back on his feet…although it seemed to be taking forever.As confident and eager as Elizabeth had been of Philip's return, it has taken literally no amount of his apology for her to pull him back into her embrace. And with a smirk on her face, she had patted his hair and agreed to marry him again. All thanks to Monica.Now the days were crawling by quite slowly and the wedding was hearing, one that the Duke was somehow not looking forward to. Lately, he'd been searching for a darker place to hide, to be away from all the chatters conc
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