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 for a pistol from an opponent and seized him in a grip, taking the gun up to his temple.
The previous uproar from the crowd turned to a worried murmur. Everyone stepped back obediently and gawked at her, eyes pleading not to pull the trigger.
"Step away or I shoot," she ordered.
They did retreat, obviously not completely though.
Monica took a few steps backwards and towards the stables, the victim still in her  clutch and mercy. Her gaze automatically travelled up the high mansion shielding the rays of the sun from view.
Philip stared back at her through a window, his eyes clouded with emotion, as though fighting between pulling her back in his arms and punishing every bit of her misdeeds.
Monica knew too well his orders led the actions of his people. And now… he wanted her killed. At that, she pleaded, tears blinding her slowly while he preened her with those same amber eyes that once admired her. She was trapped her… and his orders were the only key to let her out.
***
"Fine! I admit I'm being a little bit dramatic," Philip was slumped in his seat, having his back to his friends while he had his eyes on a painting of his father.
"Dramatic is a brother to childishness," Jason snarled, greatly adding a significant tone of displeasure to his voice.
Philip did not mind though as he received more rebukes from family and friends. By family, he meant Rebecca and Anna. By friends, he meant the six thorns he'd been mingling with since childhood. Right now, he had better things on his mind.
He rested his head on an open palm and sighed hopelessly. As much as he forced himself to hate the damsel, she had this intoxicating aura he refused to admit. It was funny how his once innocent self now found a lady's move to escape from him as attractive. The Duke ran his hands through some of his ponytail hair…and sighed again.
She was beautiful.
And that night at the King's palace…
He shut his eyes and swivelled his chair around to face them all. Philip banged a fist upon his desk in genuine agony before he barked, "Everybody! Calm…down!"
The silence he received cake suddenly than he even expected. And apart from the murmur streak from his clan outside, a pindrop could be heard. For a while, Philip just enjoyed the peace and quiet before he sucked in one deep breath just to face the daggers everyone shot at him with their eyes.
"One human being…at a time," he warned with a finger pointed. Now he tried to listen to and reason with all of them, no matter how stupid it made him feel.
Jason went first, nothing peaceful as expected, "You always play the perfect lad when you lack every bit of tolerance. I mean I have a wife thrice as cunning as she is and I live with her everyday!"
That made the Duke arch a brow.
Thrice as cunning as the damsel?
How was that even possible!
Still he kept silent and looked at others for their own words of rebuke.
"She has been asking for forgiveness ever since her return!"
"She betrayed us doesn't mean it's world's end!"
"Besides, I remember when you snitched on me in our childhood! That was also an attempt at betrayal…"
That one made the Duke frown, but more words stopped him from retorting.
"Elizabeth asked me to marry her."
…
A second wave of silence followed while the occupants tried to register who'd said that. Everyone searched through until all eyes landed on the Marquess of Bellingham.
Earl Robinson lowered his gaze coyly, his hands tapping on his thighs in one nervous rhythm.
"Was that an expensive form of metaphor," Philip shrugged at his friend. Now he seemed solemn and cast his eyes sternly on Earl.
The Marquess swallowed a pain rising at the base of his throat, trying as much as possible to avoid all the questioning glares pouring upon him.
"She approached me earlier today, explaining how she realised the pain this marriage could cause to you both," he tried explaining.
"And you agreed?!" Jason walked up to him and looked him straight in the eye, almost daring to go physical with him there and then. Soon after though, his breathing calmed while his voice lowered to a whisper only Earl could hear, "Did you not try to wonder the reason behind her sudden change of groom like napkins. That little whore will never change!"
If there was anything Philip felt then, it wasn't displeasure…more of an equal mix of relief and confusion, "But we were supposed to get married soon. And she didn't seem against it before."
While every other person was frowning, the younger Prince put up a small smile. Taking a small walk down memory lane, be smiled and declared, "I think she actually took your waltz with her back at my home more than she should have."
"And maybe because Philip does not give her half as much time as that," his brother added.
Rebecca and Anna seemed to be lost in confusion.
But Philip and Jason… they silently understood Raymond's reasoning, although neither planned to admit it.
Earl decided to take full advantage of the situation. After pushing past Jason lightly, he forced pleading eyes at Philip, "We all understand went out of track. And when I say we, I mean Monica herself inclusive."
With those words said, Earl of Vetcom sighed and turned around to the Duke as well, standing supportively beside who he once wanted to strangle, "He is right. And do you really think the Scottish damsel we all know will look past her ego, go down on her knees and ask for forgiveness if she didn't mean it?"
"Thinking about it now," Anna explained, "it would be quite exciting to have the red haired lass in the clan."
"And if it is her you truly want," Rebecca couldn't believe she was saying it. She took one last look at every person around her and sighed, "Then Elizabeth has given you every freedom you have always wanted."
"If only you'd just stop being so stiff necked," Peter said the words he saw as a perfect conclusion.
Now it was for all the words to sink in.
The Duke had his eyes low, lips joined firmly as he seemingly thought of all they'd said. Once he opened his mouth to oppose them, something inside him shut him up. After running his weak gaze through them all, he sighed and bowed his head.
Philip shut his eyes, hit his desk with a fist and looked up at them for the last time, "Let's go."