Lord Lancelot had just returned from riding when a letter came from Milford. His new butler had delivered the sealed letter to him just as he had dismounted his horse at the stables. Lord Lancelot wondered what it was. He did not think his nephew found Evangeline and was writing to inform him about it. No.

Lancelot had written several letters to Milford but had gotten no reply. Philip had told him the Earl refused to acknowledge him, this provoked his anger. However, Lancelot did not believe that Evangeline was in Milford. If she was, someone would have spotted her by now. None of the guards he had dispatched to Milford have been able to locate her. Philip claimed he had even tried to bribe a maid in the Milford Estate and asked of Evangeline but no one had seen her.

Lancelot was however determined not to give up hope. It had only been six days. Surely, he would find her. Even if she eloped to London. Evangeline belonged to him and nothing was going to keep her away.

"Thank you". He said to his butler, once the man handed him the letter.

"You are welcome your grace". Alfred bowed, stepping aside so the duke could pass.

Making his way to his bedchamber, Lancelot placed the sealed letter on his bed and proceeded to undress before making his way out of his bed chamber and into his bath chamber. He sibilated a string of curse words when he saw that his bath water had not been drawn. Returning to his chamber, he rang the bell for his butler.

Soon a knock sounded at the door. Lord Lancelot picked a towel to cover the lower part of his body before he went to open the door.

"Alfred, why is my bath not drawn?". He snapped at the middle aged man.

"Forgive me your grace, I shall have the footmen attend to you now".

"Hurry, and fetch Philip for me".

"Your grace, he is yet to return from his morning ride". Alfred informed him.

Lord Lancelot frowned. "Fine. Hurry along".

Shutting the door, Lancelot decided to open the letter and read it. His eyes roamed over the writing, taking it in, word for word. It was an invitation to a ball. His nephew was going to announce his engagement tonight. Clearly there must have been a mistake, Lancelot chuckled to himself. Franklin would never invite him over to Milford. Perhaps his new bride knows not about their differences, he mused.

"Your grace. A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in!". Lord Lancelot called to his butler.

The man pushed the door open and entered. "Your bath is ready your grace". He bowed.

"Very well. Thank you".

"One more thing your grace. There is a woman from Milford who has come here, asking about Evangeline".

Lancelot furrowed his brows at the news. He wondered who the woman was that had come to ask questions about his Evangeline.

"Send her to me. I shall meet her in the drawing room". He instructed Alfred.

"Yes your grace". Alfred bowed and left.

Lord Lancelot had a hasty bath. Once he was done, he quickly got dressed and headed to the drawing. Just as he had entered, Ira came in with a serving tray, ornamented with fruits and sweetings. She eyed the duke, desperate for his attention but he did not seem to notice.

Lord Lancelot focused his attention on the woman who stood by the window of his drawing room. The sun highlighted the different shades of brown in her curly hair as she stood gazing into nothingness. For a brief moment, Lancelot wished her brown hair was straighter, like that of Evangeline.

Ira placed the serving tray down on the center table, intentionally bending too low to expose her behind to the duke. Lancelot groaned. The sight of her provoked him to anger. She was a loose cunt and a maid, it was not something he desired.

"Shall I pour your tear your grace?". She purred, causing the visitor to turn.

"Your grace". The visitor bowed when she saw the Duke.

She observed him openly, taking in his features and composure. She had thought the duke would be old and grey judging from what she had heard concerning his age. But this man looked young and well, with no traces of grey in his hair or beard. He indeed looked quite young and dashing for his age.

"Leave us Ira". Lord Lancelot said without bothering to look at her.

"Yes your grace". She sounded disappointed as she made her was out of the drawing room, shutting the door behind her.

"Who are you?". Lancelot demanded from the visitor, once they were alone.

"Will you not offer me a seat?". She smiled sweetly at him.

"Sit". Lancelot gestured as he also settled in his seat. He pressed his lips into a thin line, refusing to crack a smile at the visitor. "Who are you and why are you asking about Evangeline?".

"Your grace". She sat in the chair opposite his. "I only wish to know more about the girl in question, tis a matter of grave importance".

"Have you seen her?. What do you know about her to want to know more?!". He demanded harshly, causing the visitor to whimper.

"Not much". She gulped, suddenly frightened of the man before her. "I only wish to find out where she came from, what she wants in Milford and how to get her to leave Milford for good".

Lancelot's heart raised. "Meaning she is in Milford?". A smile finally broke at the corner of his lips.

"Yes your grace. She works as a servant in the Milford estate".

"And how do you know this?". He narrowed his eyes at her, daring her to tell him a lie.

"I... I work as a laundry maid in the Milford estate, your grace. Evangeline came there five days ago under the pretence of bring a long distant relative of one of the maids".

Lancelot was at the edge of his without even knowing it, should he shift forward any further, he would fall. His face brightened up with joy at the news. Finally, he had found her. Even though she was not yet at his side, he was grateful that she was alright.

The visitor frowned. "Your grace, it is common knowledge in Milford that your assistant owns Evangeline, how is this true?".

Lancelot scowled. "Philip?!".

"Yes. I am told he was in Milford yesterday to take her back but my beloved refused to allow her return".

"Your beloved?. Another maid I suppose?".

"No. Sevêren, Master Franklin's assistant".

"I do not understand why are you here then, seeing that you and your lover have held my woman hostage". He seethed.

"Your grace, clearly you seem interested in Evangeline too, even though she is your assistant's mistress. Perhaps we can come to an agreement".

Lord Lancelot growled. "Evangeline belongs to no one but me. Philip would not dare to touch her. He would pay with his life!". He stood to his feet.

How did he not know of this. Why did Philip not inform him that he had found Evangeline in Milford, immediately he returned. If it was true that Philip wanted Evangeline for himself, he would make sure he buried the rascal alive!.

The visitor was more confused than ever. "Are you saying Evangeline is your mistress?". She gasped.

"Yes that is what I am saying!". He shook his fist.

The visitor beamed with joy. This was better than she had expected. There was no way the Earl would allow Evangeline to stay in his estate if he found out she belonged to his enemy.

Yesterday, after Sevêren had told her everything about Evangeline, she made it her task to seek out Sir Philip and hand Evangeline over to him. She would rid herself of the slut once and for all.

"Your grace". She cleared her throat. "If Evangeline belongs to you, why have you not demanded for her?".

"I did not know of her whereabouts until now". He huffed, running a hand over his face. Something was not adding up.

The visitor stiffened. How could he not know if his assistant already knew. Something was not adding up.

"Your grace" she stood and curtsied. "I shall like to take my leave now. But I have one request".

"What is it?!". Lancelot snapped his fingers at her.

"You do not know me and might not wish to know me but please I would be happy if you demanded for Evangeline to return to Castor. Her presence there puts my relationship with my beloved at risk".

"Watch your words woman!". He hissed, not liking the underlined tone to her words.

"I only speak the truth your grace. Evangeline's frolicking with my beloved is unbecoming". She began to shed crocodile tears. "I fear I might loose my future husband to her if care is not taken". She exclaimed dramatically.

"Evangeline is not the kind of woman to engage in such profanities". Lancelot refused to listen to her.

"Then I must have been blind when I caught her kissing my beloved, or sneaking into the bedchamber of the Earl". She snorted.

"Shut up!". The duke closed the gap between them. "I will not have you speak in that manner about Evangeline".

"Tis the truth!". She stated stubbornly, much to the duke's annoyance.

"Get out of my lands!. I do not wish to find you here within an hour!. Guards!". He screamed.

"Perhaps if you used this kind of determination and aggression, you would have Evangeline warming your bed instead of the tiled men in Milford!". She spat.

The slap shocked the visitor but it was not enough for Lancelot. Just as he moved to hit her again, the guards came rushing in. He stepped back, deciding to let them take her.

"Take her away and leave her at the borders. Ensure that she has crossed to Milford before you return!". He sneered.

"Yes your grace". They answered in unison as they moved to grab her.

"How dare you raise your hands on a woman!". She winced, grunting out her frustrations. This man was indeed as brutal as she had heard.

"This is Castor Miss Ella. Women are put in their place when they do not know their place!". He tittered, satisfied that he had instilled the fear of him in her.

Ella was however astonished to know that he knew her name. She shuddered with fear. This man was everything they had said he was. She had underestimated him.

"Ho-ow did you kn-ow my na-ame?".

"I have heard about the maid who said Sevêren's life, I just had not met her. I had high respect for you, but trying to give my Evangeline a bad name is something I shall not tolerate".

"I made a mistake in coming here". She blinked back tears.

"Quite the contrary. I am glad you did. Tell your Earl I am coming for what is mine. Should he refuse, then he would pay with his life, just like his father!".

Picture of Lancelot. Duke of Castor.

Oh... this handsome duke gives me life. *Wink*