Chapter six

Chapter six

"Shut up you foolish girl," cried her mother, "That was the last thing I had of him!"

Monica watched her mother in disbelief, "What else do you have to do with the man who did not just betray you and along with his allies, took your home away from you?"

Miriam Maitland frowned at her first daughter, shock overcoming all her emotions, "You think  love ends that easily Monica? Are you that inconsiderate that you had to give the necklace back to his son?"

The younger lady laughed angrily, "I have a reason. With that piece of jewelry, I can get your dignity and property back," then she glowered, "and maybe teach that Viscount's daughter a big lesson!"

"Is that all you think of? Revenge," her mother snarled, "Monica I loved that man and you have no right to hurt his family."

Monica smiled at her, eyeing her mother with hatred clearly in her eyes, "So you never loved father?"

Miriam shook her head blatantly, "He was a very bad person."

Her daughter immediately made a threatening move to her, "You dare call him bad. Where were you when he was made Duke of Kilmarnock? Out there being a slut to the late Duke of Anfield."

She pointed right to Miriam's face, snarling the rest of her words, "When we needed you the most, you were too busy spending the nights with him here in England. However bad he was, my father never forgot he was a father. He stayed, taught me all I know today, including the ones you were supposed to teach me. And you have the audacity to call him bad. He was better than you'll ever be!"

Her mother stood, speechless, sighting Monica walk away afterwards. Somehow all that affected her deeply, making a void somewhere that could never be filled again.

***

The six walked on green grass, turning now and then to admire all the scenery they passed.

Timothy sighted a rosemary plant which he plucked with a smile, "A fine place for fishing you chose here Your Grace."

Philip nodded unconsciously, looking around for any sight of Monica, "Monica should be here by now."

"Who" Jason inquired with a frown.

The Duke sighed, well aware his next sentence was going to cause havoc amongst them, "The one accused of theft yesterday."

All movement ceased as his friends gawked at him in shock. Purposely, he looked straight ahead at the body of water they'd reached, avoiding all their glares.

The Earl of Vetcom closed his eyes, forcing himself to be calm. Gently, he asked, "And why exactly should she be here.?" He asked even if he knew no answer could please him.

Philip however tried to brighten the mood of everyone, "Well I asked her to join us in fishing today."

All the men suddenly lost their sanity, especially Jason who began acting like a child.  Turning around, he began walking back, "Then I shall return to my lovely home."

The Duke sighed and faced him, "Please stop this. At least let the maiden fish."

"Maiden!" The Earl shrieked in wonder, "You call her a maiden! She is no maiden. She's a thief! A mercenary, unbelievable thief!"

He continued barking while he walked backwards away from them, "She handed her drink to the Earl of Vetcom, said things too daring for any normal Scottish woman and stole food. You would not call such person a mai…"

He found himself staggering suddenly, noticing he was just at the edge of a ditch, one he didn't notice because he was too busy shouting. 

While he found himself falling into it, a hand quickly gripped around his hard and tight. Gently, that same hand pulled him up, straight back to his balance. And it was the devil herself.

Monica smiled sarcastically, "Be careful when talking about a lady or you may literally land yourself into a pit of trouble."

He yanked his wrist from her grip, eyeing her ruefully and walking away.

"You're most welcome," she widened her lips in a smile. Turning around, she glanced at all the Monarchs from the ones of highest rank to the lowest. Slowly, she curtsied, "Let's begin."

***

Elizabeth plastered a smile on, holding a saucer with tea as she walked into the study, "Good morning father," she placed the cup before him, "how do you do?"

The Viscount of Mareda leaned back away from the table, "Have a seat my dear. We have something to talk about."

Elizabeth tilted her head knowingly, pulling out a chair and sitting.

Her father hesitated for a while, "Are you aware of how important your marriage with the Duke is to me?"

Elizabeth bowed her head submissively, "Yes father."

"Good girl," the Viscount went on, "I need that Scottish duchy. With it, we all can move higher, you understand. If you become the duchess of Anfield, exercise that power, even on the Duke himself. If done well, you as well will rule."

She watched him attentively all along, a small smile on.

Her father sipped his tea for the eight time, snarling greedily, "Grasp the Duke like he is gold. As a matter of fact, he is."

She waited patiently as the man went on with his speech. Suddenly, he stopped much to her excitement. The Viscount began coughing seriously.

Elizabeth turned to her father, realising the cough was worse than normal.

Bringing his hand from his mouth, the man sighted blood on it, frowning in confusion, "What…"

The blonde lady sat upright and picked up the cup, analysing it thoroughly, "I will rule alone father. It's never fun when you get to share power."

Slowly, she pulled the chair back and stood, wiping her deeds off her hands.

Giving her father one last nonchalant look, she walked away, "Send my greetings to mother when you get to hell."

The Viscount of Mareda lowered his head unto the table hopelessly, "Elizabeth," he gasped before he closed his eyes finally.

***

Watching the males throw fishing lines into the water, Monica put her hands behind her back, drawing images on the ground with her foot.

Philip turned to face her with a frown, "Where is your line?"

She shook her head in response, "I do not have one. Carry on."

"Then how did she expect to fish," Raymond muttered to the Duke beside him.

She ignored all their comments and walked more to the right, looking into the deeper side of the lake, loaded with fish. With a smile, Monica nodded and took her shoes off. She unfolded a sack which was squeezed into a  pocket at her side,  saying to herself, "So what if I don't have a line, I can always use my hands."

Moments later, Philip Forland laughed in excitement, "I got seven!"

Earl's eyes widened in wonder, gawking down at his own basket of fish while announcing loudly, "Wow! I got nine!"

He immediately sent the Duke a mocking smirk.

The rest shrugged with nonchalance, "Two…" "Four…" or "Three…"

Suddenly, a voice from behind declared with a gasp, "I got twenty three "

The six men turned around slowly just to find the sight of a dripping wet Monica holding a bag of fish out to them.

Jason struggled to speak with his shaky lips, stating obviously, "You hunted for fish…in water."

"I left my hook at home," she replied, "besides that was far more efficient."

Monica threw the bag down before them, squeezing and shaking water off her red hair.

The men were too frozen to react.

However, Monica got her grin back on immediately, "What's next?"

The Earl of Vetcom looked down at the grass with a tiny smile. Shortly, he glanced back at her, "Well let's see how good you are with the blades."

***

Earl Robinson admired his sword just before he smiled at Monica, "I guess I'll go first."

The lady placed her hand on her weapon hooked to her hip, "Have you ever lost to a lady?"

"Words bore me," The Marquess twisted his lips, "Let's get this over with."

To Monica, it already was.

For a little while, they pointed their blades to each other, waiting for the other to strike first.

When the man lost his patience, he pounced forward, opening the first round of sword clinking.