Lancelot dismounted at the end of the carriage way of the Roseville's estate, his eyes taking in his surroundings at one glance. He noticed the grass and hedges were over grown and made a mental note to have his gardener attend to them at once. As he made his way towards the entrance, a maid emerged.

"You there!". He called out to her.

The poor girl looked startled when she saw the Duke. This had her halting in her stride, before turning to face him properly, then bowing respectfully to him.

"Your grace". She kept her head down, averting her gaze from him.

"Is your mistress home?". He posed the question to her.

"Your grace?". She asked as if hard of hearing.

"I asked if Lady Ingrid is home. You work here don't you?". Lancelot repeated. His cold eyes sweeping over the girl.

"The-the... youn-young miss?. She did not return home last night your gra-ce". She forced the words out, her body shifting away from the duke on its own accord.

Lancelot felt a wave of anger roll through him at her words. What did she mean by Ingrid did not return home last night!. And how come no one informed him about it?!. He swore loudly. Philip was such an incompetent fool!. Pushing the large door which lead into the house open, he was met by Mrs Roseville's butler, who looked frightened to see him. His sudden arrival had put everyone on edge.

"Your grace". The butler bowed. Stepping aside for him to come in.

"Where is Mrs Roseville?!". Lancelot demanded.

"She is in the drawing room your grace. Shall I-".

Before he could finish his statement, Lancelot stormed off in the direction of the drawing room. He knew the house all too well to get lost. Mrs Roseville was knitting in the drawing room when the Duke badged in. She stiffened, feeling the blood drain from her face. She knew he would be coming over for dinner tonight and she dreaded it knowing what she had done. She stood to her feet shakily. Had the duke found out about Ingrid eloping?. Was that why he was here earlier than expected?.

"Your grace". She bowed. "I did not know you were coming this early, Philip said you would be coming for dinner, had I known it was for lunch too I would have made preparations". She forced herself to smile at him.

Shutting the door gently behind him, he placed both hands behind his back, his cold gaze boring holes into her, reading her as he took a step closer to where she was standing.

"I was hoping to spend some time with my future wife first before dinner. Where is she?". He asked, looking around the room.

Mrs Roseville gulped. "Lord Lancelot, perhaps you would want to take a seat. I shall have-".

"Answer me!". He glowered at her, instilling the fear of him in her.

"I had to. She is my daughter. My only child. Edward would have wanted the same thing for her too. She would never have been happy with you. She loves the lad and he loves her too. Please try to understand". She blurted out, out of fear.

He arched a brow at her as he took slow steps towards her, his fingers closing into a fist. "Where has she gone to?!".

"I... I don't know. I did not ask her. She said it would be safer that way".

The slap across her face was swift yet it did not go unnoticed. It was as if time stood still in that moment. Mrs Roseville hit the wooden floor of the drawing room with such force that the sound echoed around the room. Lancelot bent low, squatting on his toes in order to be leveled with her. Grabbing a fist full of her hair, he forced her face to look at his.

"I shall ask you this one last time Catherine". He addressed her by her first name. "Where. Is. She?!".

"I don't know I swear. I don't know. I did not ask her". Mrs Roseville cried out, hit tears streaming down her face.

"You did not ask". He nodded quietly. He then stood, straightening himself to his full height. "You helped your daughter elope. Am I correct in thinking so?". He looked down at her. He sudden calm demeanor frightened her.

"Please forgive me. I did not know what to do. When she told me she was with child I-".

Lancelot stopped listening after that. Ingrid had already given herself to the lad and she had taken seed. He was seething. His eyes darkened with rage, a shade that scared Mrs Roseville dearly. She backed away from him, trying to get on her feet.

Lancelot kicked her in the side, causing her to curl into a ball while whimpering painfully. He kicked her again, and again until she began to scream for help. He then stopped and walked towards the entrance to the drawing room when he heard footsteps approaching. He was meet by the butler and two maids.

"If you value your jobs, I suggest you go back to your post now!". He hissed at them causing them to halt in their pace.

Reluctantly, they turned and departed. Lancelot returned to the drawing room and shut the door, turning it's lock. He discarded his waist cost and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt before proceeding to undo his belt from its pants. Rolling the belt in his hand, he moved towards Mrs Catherine who was crying uncontrollably.

"After everything I have done for you and your ungrateful daughter, you choose to shame me in this manner?!". He gritted through his teeth.

"Please". She hiccuped. "Forgive me. Please".

"Why?. I could have given her everything. I could have made her happy".

"I was only looking out for my daughter's happiness. She loves-".

The belt came down on her shoulder hard. She screamed out in pain forcing herself off the floor as she tried to get away from him. Lancelot's tall frame towered over her and his solid structure blocked her path as he whipped his sister in law with the belt like she was a slave he owned.

"Say it one more time. Say it again"!. He barked at her. The thought of Ingrid loving another maddened him intensely.

*****

Lord Lancelot was seething by the time he returned to his estate. This put the house hold on edge. Everyone made sure to stay out of his way. The rumours had spread fast and everyone in the town had heard of how he gad whipped his sister in law. The workers in the Castor Estate knew better than to show their face to their when he was this murderous.

"Philip!". He bellowed, once he entered the house. He was standing at the edge of the stairs that led to the chambers on the first floor.

Philip come running down the downstairs. The moment his eyes met with the duke's dark ones, Philip knew today was the day he would die. Bracing himself, he made his way down the stairs to meet him.

"Your grace". He bowed.

The punch come just after he had bowed but it did not surprise him. He knew it was coming. News of Ingrid and Boris eloping had spread through the town like wild fire. While some of the town's people praised the lad for being so brave and daring, others pitied him and prayed for him, hoping that the duke would never find them wherever they had run to.

Other punch came, hitting him in the lower abdomen and Philip took it in good faith as he swallowed the pain. He did not fight back. This was not the first time Lord Lancelot had hit him. The first time it happened, Philip was furious and tried to fight back but he learnt the hard way never to underestimate his master.

"Fight back!". Lord Lancelot hissed at him, kicking him in the groin.

Philip fell to his knees whimpering in pain but he did not fight back.

"Are you not man enough to fight back?". Lancelot bawled.

"Forgive me your grace. I was negligent in my work. I should have been more attentive". He grunted out in pain.

Lancelot kicked him. "Negligent you say?. You are incompetent. How difficult could it be to watch over a mere lass of just sixteen years. How did she escape from your watchful eyes?!. Are you in cohorts with them?!. Are you?. Answer me you blastered fool!".

"No your grace. Never. I will-".

"Shut up!. Get out of my sight you pathetic twit!".

"Thank you your grace". He stood to his feet winching as he did. He was bleeding from his cracked lips and broken nose. His abdomen hurt and he cursed his stars for allowing the youngsters to outsmart him.

Still smouldering, Lancelot made his way up the stairs. He needed a drink to calm his nerves so he could think of what to do next. Ingrid had betrayed him in the most terrible way. She had also shamed him. He swore under his breath that she was going to pay. Come what may, he was determined to find her, and when he did, he would take his revenge.

Stopping suddenly, he turned towards Philip who was leaning against a table near by. "Find her. Search every corner of this town. Find her or you are dead!". He spat.

"Yes your grace". He grunted in response.

"Where is George?!". Lancelot asked.

"He took a sick leave your grace". Philip answered. The man had come to him the night before saying he was unwell and needed a day away from work so he gave it to him.

Lancelot frowned. Before he could say anything, a maid approached him.

"Your grace, if I may". She batted her long lashes seductively at him.

Lancelot hissed. "What is it?!". He was not one to mingle with the servants when it came to satisfying his sexual edges. The brothel was there for that.

"It's about George. Forgive me your grace but I happened to over hear your conversation with Sir Philip the other night".

"Are you here to tell me of your eavesdropping skills?!". He barked at her.

"No your grace. I just happened to hear at the market today that the lad in question, the young lad who won your betrothed heart and eloped with her, is the butler's nephew".

Lancelot's face turned in a scowl. He turned towards Philip who looked like he would kill himself for not knowing this important detail.

"Did you know this?!". Lancelot demanded from him.

"No your grace". He shook his heard.

"You incompetent fool!. Go now. Go with a few men to his home and turn the place upside down. Find him and bring him to me!". He bellowed the command at him and pushed past the maid, making his way into his chamber.

"Yes your grace". Philip muttered.