DEVIL'S HEART

Chapter thirty four

Chapter thirty four
"Be quiet, or he'll shoot you," the blonde heard her cousin say with her breath touching the back of her ear. Her chest rose and fell gradually, and she swallowed in fear.

After careful strategy, Monica bumped Elizabeth aside and flung the dagger she held straight at Nax.
It took a while for the man to realise the men's blabbering was just a distraction. And by that time, the blade had already dug a shallow groove inside his chest. Automatically, he dropped the gun and was forced to his fours. The general gasped, stealing anxious glances at the knife in him while he noticed the others surround him.

Slowly, the man finally managed to look up at them, showing obvious streak of tired lines on his face, "Do not return that duchy to Monica Your Grace."
The Duke was not surprised to hear that erupt from him all of a sudden. Instead, he sighed and squatted to reach him, "And you thought the best way to tell me that was by stealing the seal."
Silence…
The man lowered his head again in supposed helplessness. Taking his hand to up to the dagger's handle, he pulled it out slowly, groaning deeply with every inch. Next he sucked several puffs of air into his lungs for strength before taking his eyes up towards the lady, "Just look at her. She's dangerous and we all know it."

Monica looked down at the Duke who had a small frown on, one that came from paying close attention to what Nax was saying. Something she did not find comfortable. What if he began having double thoughts about her?
Just out of caution, she pulled out her gun and aimed at Nax. When she pulled the trigger, the shock was evident to everyone in the chamber, even Nax himself. And after a slight pause to show that shock, he crumpled down upon the marbled floor.

Just to avoid unpleasant questions, she immediately turned around and walked away; mainly because she realized she had dme more harm than good by her actions.
Philip was still squatted, staring at the bleeding hole on the man's head, although now his frown was darker.
Why was everyone warning him against this mission of his?
***
Stephen Louis rode by, his eyes running past the massive St Ives duchy, "Where did you say you saw my brother's?"
Edward Vizal struggled to keep his own horse in pace with the royal one, "They were guests at my party two nights ago."
"Did they come alone," the Prince asked.

The Duke raised his eyes in thought. A moment passed before he shook his head, "There were about six others with them, including a red haired woman Your Highness."
"Anyone you know."
"Yes of course. The Duke of Anfield," replied Edward Vizal.
At that, the Prince stopped his horse and widened his eyes, pausing with the cup of wine halfway up his mouth. Immediately afterwards, he held out the goblet to a footman while another came by to put his robe upon him.

Prince Stephen kicked his horse after his garment was complete and left the Duke's empire. His staff and friends he'd brought along dashed behind him on their own respective fillies.
To the Prince, it was about fulfilling his father's orders, and his brothers were joining him home or he wasn't going anywhere.
***
Monica pulled on her hair angrily, unaware of what to do.
Somehow, she remembered the skeptical look on the Duke's face. And if more enemies spoke into his head like that, he was surely going to back out.
As if her mood wasn't bad enough, her door creaked open to receive the person she distasted the most.
"Hello Monica," Elizabeth rasped.

The Scottish groaned madly and turned around to give her cousin the deadliest glare she could make. By God, there was no one else she hated more…
"What are you doing here,? What do you want?!" The words were laced with warning and spiced with an excess of contempt.
"You are always this cold to me. Why?" Asked the other lady in feigned curiosity.
Monica eyed her silently, casting her a look that showed she was losing patience. Wasn't the answer to that obvious enough for her?

Elizabeth sighed and smiled, blocking out every sign of the sadness she felt deep down, " Fine. I've been very horrible to you, and yet today, you saved my life." She paused, "So I have come to express my sincere gratitude."
Monica scowled and faced her mirror again, a nonchalant mood replacing the last. "If you came here to give me your usual feigned care and kindness, then leave my chamber. I have bigger things on my mind."

The blonde stalked to the four-poster bed and slumped down to sit upon it, "From the very beginning, all I have always wanted was to help you my dear."
"Well haven't you helped me enough Elizabeth. Now just go away," the Scottish declared.
After a sad smile, Elizabeth looked down to play with her fingers, "I know where your thoughts are straying to. It's about the Duke losing his trust in you, isn't it?"

Monica's glare returned to her, although it looked shocked this time. A part of her wanted to half her problem, to confide in someone. But how vulnerable that would make her feel, "My problems are none of your business."
"Well they are my indeed my dear," Elizabeth rushed to say and pushed herself up from the bed. Standing before her, she looked straight into those green, weary eyes, "We spoke back in Liverpool Monica. Somehow you seem to be drifting away from the plan."

The Scottish hid the tears struggling to come out, surprised at the way she was listening to this cunning cousin of hers, "What plan do you speak of?"
A pleased smile played across the blonde's lips. Lovingly, she began stroking the long red curls of Monica's hair, "This is the moment you strive to get my finance wrapped between your fingers. You are one beautiful lass…seduce him!"
Monica frowned out of genuine confusion and moved an inch away. She wiped the liquid from her eyes and inquired, "Excuse me! Do you not take interest in him at all." Interest in a man who dominated her dreams!

"I do. Of course I do," Elizabeth answered much to the other lady's disappointment. Helping her wipe her eyes, she went on with her persuasion, "As far as you two don't end up running away to get married in Gretna Green, I'm fine with whatever you do. I give you all the permission you need. Use Philip Monica, to your full advantage. When he falls in love with you, what others say won't mean anything to him anymore. Kilmarnock will be yours!"
The Scottish sniffed and frowned at her cousin. As tempting as the offer sounded, a siren in her mind blurted a warning not to trust this lady. "Why are you helping me?"

Elizabeth's smile was warm and welcoming, "That's what I've always wanted to do my dear. I have a condition though." She let a moment slide for a dramatic effect and to reassure the nervous glare Monica shot her. "You'll promise to go far away to Scotland once you've regained authority over the seal. And do not come back. The limit of all shenanigans you can play is marriage. Am I clear?"
Monica looked at her, trying to understand what to make of this. There was no harm trying, what was there to lose? And deep down… she saw sincerity in her eyes.

"Thank you so much," the Scottish cried in nostalgia and wrapped her arms about the blonde.
Elizabeth's eyes widened to saucers at that action of hers. As though unsure, she slowly returned the embrace and grinned a smile that reached her eyes, wide and real, "How I hate it when you're against me. You'll see my dear…we'll move mountains side by side."