Lord Stark stared intensely at the framed picture in his hands. It was a photo of him and his late father, rifles in their hands. Those were the good old days. Sighing, he leaned back in his office chair after he had placed the picture back on his brown desk. He wished he had such a connection with his son. But he was afraid it was too risky. The day Lord Stark took that photo with his late father was the day he became the new Duke of Starklington.

They had just into the forest with the rest of the hunting party, riding on their horses gracefully. Just then, while his father was discussing with him, his father's horse seemed to panic and then tossed him off its back. Late Kinniard Stark died as a result of a broken spine. Of all the children of his father, it was Lord Stark that the death hurt the most. This was because he was the closest to his father.

He took off his spectacles and massaged the bridge of his nose. After what happened that day, he vowed that he would make sure his son never knew such a fate. Loving someone so deeply could turn into intense pain when you lose them. That was why he always kept Robert at a distance even though every flying second, he wished he could spend time with him. But it was for the best.

This was because if he were to ever die, Robert would not feel the excruciating pain that plagued Lord Stark's heart when his father died.

Lord Stark's windows squeaked and he turned in his seat to look at them. Receding in the distance was a tall dark man walking along the plains of his estate. What news did he have for him? Lord Stark looked at the bottom of the window. There was a note laying there.

He quickly opened the note and read it;

I've blended in and he doesn't know what I'm up to. I'll keep you up to date with what will happen next.

There was a soft knock on his door. "My Lord."

He quickly hid the note inside his vest. "Come in."

The Lady of the house walked in dressed in a beautiful blue day gown, her hair packed in a diamond-rimmed headband. She was beaming from ear to ear. What could've made his wife this excited?

"Penelope."

"I have the best of news, Dear," she said excitedly, seating on the brown seat across him.

This was going to be interesting. "Enlighten me please."

"Yesterday at the ball Gerrard Finley hosted, Robert was seen dancing with a girl."

Lord Stark narrowed his brows. ''How did you know that? Weren't you having dinner here in my house?"

"Being a woman has its perks, Philip."

He smiled a bit. He always loved when she called his name. But ever since he began his quest on protecting Robert from the pain he experienced, Penelope and he had grown distant. She had never for once liked how he treated his son. He believed that even though he told her his reason, she won't still change her mind on what she thought of the matter.

"Well, if he was dancing with a woman, we shouldn't be surprised. After all, he dances the tango with women in the bedroom." His efforts to push away Robert had led to him indulging in acts no gentleman should dare indulge in. It was almost as if Robert was doing all these to get his attention.

Penelope blushed. "Oh, Philip. He's your son, you know?"

"I'm well aware that I put him inside you."

Penelope's rosy shade brightened. "Stop saying things like that, Philip. I may turn into a tomato."

"I'll try my best, Penny."

"I know Robert has made himself quite the public toilet. But this time, I think he's in love."

Philip chuckled, thinking his wife may have lost her mind. "What makes you think so?"

"The girl he danced with last night was the same girl I saw him talking with during our ball."

Blimey, Philip thought. Robert was fond of disposing of girls after he was done with them. But for this girl to have him this way, she definitely may be his trump card to win his son back. Robert was going down the drain and if Philip didn't do something soon, he may as well lose his son. But was the risk worth it? He would be putting his son in danger by getting close to him.

Penelope was still grinning like a toddler that was bought sweet biscuits. "Penny, don't tell me you've already booked a wedding venue."

"Maybe," she said, shrugging.

"Dear God," Philip said, shaking his head with a smile on his face. Whoever this girl was, he hoped she would help his son see the light.

"What do you think of it Miss Featherington?" Gerrard asked Ella as they both watched the vast greenery of his estate plains. They were standing next to a team of horses, a few gentlemen already saddled onto their steeds, muskets in their hands.

"It's quite the view," Ella said, holding tight to the gun he gave her. It was surprisingly heavy, compared to the one her father taught her to shoot with. Gerrard noticed her struggling with it and laughed. "What?"

"When I invited you to the hunting party, I didn't think you would come."

He slung the gun over his shoulders and helped Ella unto her horse, her blue gown covering the saddle.

She held the reins of the brown steed.

"Well, I'm full of surprises."

Ella didn't enjoy the small talk in the least. This was a man Robert claimed was a bad person. She found it hard to believe considering how gentlemanly he acted. Though his arrogant persona was enough proof that he was capable of doing bad things. But what sort of things? Ella hoped she would never get to find out.

"Your maid seems to be struggling with her horse." Gerrard patted his saddle before he mounted his horse with one easy jump. Ella's mother was excited when she was told about the hunting party but insisted a maid went with Ella. It was the proper thing to do. The maid on the other hand didn't know the proper thing to do with her horse. It kept neighing and spinning around in a spot.

"Indeed," Ella muttered, trying to place her mind on the real reason she was at this hunting party with Gerrard. Make sure I keep him away from his office till I see a green smoke signal, She thought. That couldn't be hard, could it? After all, the hunting party was going to take a lot of time. And the men would be so invested in shooting animals that they'll forget time would be speeding past them.

"Alright, Gents" Gerrard pulled the reins of his horse, the gentlemen ready to march into the forest. "The hunting begins."

They proceeded down the green plains, Ella discreetly waiting for the green smoke to flare up into the sky. How stupid of her, they had just begun. How did she expect the person Robert sent to find whatever it was they were looking for in Gerrard's office in such a short time? She noticed a smile linger at the corner of Gerrard's lips as he watched her struggle with the rifle she hung on her arm. It was so heavy her bones were threatening to break to pieces.

"It wouldn't hurt if you tilted it to a side," he suggested, chuckling.

Ella frowned, her brown eyes turning hard. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You look like you need to take a shit."

"I said, I'm fine," she hissed, feeling the strap of the gun burn into her shoulder. Soon they'll settle in the forest and she wouldn't have to carry this useless heavy piece of shit around. Though it would be useful if she wanted to blow off Gerrard's head.

They rode past the plains, entering the forest. It wasn't thick, the trees spreading their wide umbrella of green, the sunlight sneaking past their leaves. Squirrels ran along the branches, birds singing in the sky. Gerrard rode like a knight, his hands steady, back straight as a rod.

"I suppose it's quite proper for you to ask a lady to a hunting party. Most men would think it quite dangerous," Ella said, trying to create small talk with him. If she were to keep him here long enough, it would be best to create small talk to distract him.

"Well, I'm Gerrard Finley, the richest man in London. That makes me far different from most men."

Here came his infuriating arrogance. But Ella saw this as an opportunity to prick a nerve of his. She was going to use the one thing men hated; Being compared to another man. And she had the perfect man in mind.

"Are you sure about that?" She shrugged easily. "Most people, even I, have always thought Lord Robert Stark to be the richest man in Great Britain and Ireland."

Gerrard's fist tightened around his reins. "Nonsense."

"I overheard some ladies the other day claiming he had quite the charm."

"Do you agree?" Gerrard's eyes were twitching like his head was about to explode. Ella pouted and blushed, remembering how close Robert pulled her while they danced, his body heat emanating and seeping into her skin.

"Well for one, he has beautiful eyes. And he's so smart at times I wonder how God could bless someone with such a brain," Ella said dreamily for dramatic effect and the results were perfect. Fumes rushed out of Gerrard's ears and he was turning red, veins popping on his forehead.

"He thought of the moon lamp. Only a genius could do such a thing."

"Robert Stark is not a genius, I am!" The men up front turned their heads to look at him. Well, that was one hell of an outburst and Ella savoured every inch of it, grinning from ear to ear. "What are you all looking at? Let's continue moving."

The gentlemen obeyed, murmurs exchanged between them as they went deeper into the forests, thickets lining the pathway. Soon they all came to a stop and got off their horses. They spread out, Ella partnering with Gerrard. She hadn't been to this forest before. She just hoped whatever animals that lived here weren't wild enough that she would shit herself.

"Here," Gerrard beckoned, approaching a fallen tree. Mushrooms and moss made their home in the wooden structure, a lizard bolting along it when it saw them. Below was a stream that ran the length of the forest. The distance between it and the log was steep and a fall from it could cause injuries. Gerrard held a hand above his lip, signalling for Ella not to make a sound.

She wanted to counter him to let him know she didn't entertain taking orders from him. But when she saw the antelope eating grass in the distance, she shut her bloody mouth up. Gerrard held up his musket and aimed, his green eyes scoping past the barrel.

He slowly wrapped his finger around the trigger, taking in calm, calculated breaths. He pushed back and Ella closed her ears with her gloved hands, expecting a loud bang. Instead, a click sounded.

"Shit, it's not loaded," Gerrard said under his breath. "That bloody servant forgot to load my gun. I'll teach him a lesson when I get back."

Whoever that servant was, Ella felt pity for him. It must be hard working for a man like Gerrard Finley.

"Well you can use my gun," She suggested.

Gerrard shook his head. "I'll go get some bullets from my office. Give me five minutes."

No, no, no, She thought a storm of panic tormenting her, What she feared had happened. She had to think of something fast. The green smoke signal hadn't been set out yet. If Gerrard went back to his office now, he was most likely to catch whoever Robert must've sent. And if that happened, the team would see it as a failure. It would cement the fact that she wasn't a valuable asset to them.

"B-but."

"But what?" Gerrard asked impatiently. Ella took a hard look at the gun in her hands and an idea smashed into her head like an unstoppable train. Feigning a misstep, the gun fell off her hands down to the stream.

"Oh no, my gun," She hurriedly looked over the log, her hands on it. The aim was to use the fall of the gun to waste more time. Well, she was unlucky because the wood was slippery and her hands slipped her whole body overturning. She landed with a splash in the stream, a series of pain coursing through her muscles.

"Miss Featherington!" Gerrard's voice echoed as her vision blurred. And then, just before she drifted into unconsciousness, she saw it, the signal. She had done it. Robert would be proud of her and so would Howard and Captain Asher. With that last thought, her mind was plunged into darkness.