Chapter Fifty Six

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The sky was turning dark, getting rid of the orange glow to make way for the stars and moon. The British solider moved briskly down the street, his posture poised and bore the resemblance of a man that should not be bothered on his quest, as a result, People skillfully avoided his path. Arriving at the townhouse, he was shown to the Commander's Study. The commander had been residing in the room for some days now, limping ever so often and every sentence, he spoke had profanity. He was standing by the hearth, cursing the devil himself when, the solider barged inside the room. His obscene vocabulary seem to have grown considerately while his health decline.

Commander Macmillian frowned upon the intrusion. "What is it?" Using his dark wooden cane, he stride over to sit behind his desk. "Dammit!" He hissed at the sharp pain in his foot, that was half numb and half pained. His body was changing. Decaying. The devil of a pirate had dammed him to hell! He had wonder if such a lady by that name even lives in England and it wasn't just a wild goose chase to make a fool of him even more.

A fool he certainly was indeed.

He waited patiently for the solider to speak, not at all eager to hear disappointed news.

The lady had not been found.

Jake was still alive and equally not found.

"Sir," The Solider took off his hat, tuck it under his arm and slightly bow. "Lord Clairwood has been captured and at the palace, sir."

All hope wasn't lost yet after all and Commander Macmillian smile, menacingly. "Excellent news! Just what I needed!" His palms slapped against the wooden desk, the noise was soon followed by joyous laughter.

"See to it that my carriage is prepared at once!" He stood, chuckles vibrating throughout his body.

With a nod the solider left.

"Jake Clairwood, it's because of you that I am in such a state. You will pay." He gritted. "I would live to see your death after all."

Half an hour later, Commander Macmillian found himself in the castle's prisons, Jake had his back to him and he bang his cane against the steel bars, alerting of his presence.

"Jake Clairwood, what a wonderful surprise we meet again." He leaned against the cane, with a smug smile. Commander Macmillan glorified upon seeing the Duke, demoted to sleeping on the floor with only a bench acting as a furniture although it may seem as a luxury compared to his own days in Prison. He didn't have any layering of hay to protect from the harsh cold; bloodly flooring with only a torn linen shirt and breeches that only stayed around his waist by a flimsy string, just thinking about those days made him slightly shiver and he focus on the young man before him, his nephew. "I know you couldn't stay away."

"Clearly not how I have left you. You look terrible." Jake smirked, arms folded to his chest. "And you haven't even been on the battlefield yet."

"This was all your fault, you imbecile!" He spat. "Ever since you were born, you ruin my life!"

"You know Commander, holding on to something that would never be yours is torture itself. Or should I say Uncle."

The Commander took a startled step backwards. "W-Who told you that?"

"It came as a shock to me at first, my grandfather's long lost bastard child, who thought that he was fit to be a Duke." Jake snickered, taking an scrutinizing look at the Commander. "I really don't see any resemblance to the Clairwood family."

"You know not what you speak! I was the first born the rightful heir to the dukedom. Not your father! To make matters worse he stole your mother away from me!" The Commander took a shaky step forward. "He took everything away from me...He had my life." He could still remember that evening when he stumbled upon the young Lady Lydia, she had just stepped out of the dress shop and offer him a warm greeting, inquiring why he was standing frowning at himself, she had the most curious greyish blue eyes, that smile at him and the blue gown she wore seem to bring them out more profoundly. That's when William came from around the corner from the inn, after leaving him, waiting for almost an hour while he was struck speechless by her beauty, William who was blessed with charms and handsomeness, made his way into her heart and later skirt. He hated him even more because of that, Lydia was sweet and innocent and William didn't love her, he was a devious Rake but that day Lydia got shot and his brother saw her die, it was like William's soul had left with hers and when he'd finally lifted his gaze to stare at him, it's like William was begging him to kill him and Commander McMillian hated himself even more to think that he did the man a favour.

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