Chapter twenty two
He had to agree with Timothy that the enemies were a bit pathetic. All he ever did was wait for them to deliver themselves and give a bullet or two in return.
The war went on for another while with no man down on their side of the team. Each of the eight was skilled in their own form of fighting anyways. Well just until…
Monica felt the tip of a blade slice a deep groove into her back. Here she was thinking Jason was the most painful thing on Earth.  She released a groan, obviously not accustomed to being hurt like that. It was like soaking your face into a hot tub of boiling oil, whichever was worse. A spiking sensation soared around the fresh wound, creating a new emotion in her head. Anger of course.
Luckily her attacker never struck again until she managed to turn to face him slowly. For some reason, he looked…scared.
She reached down to her hip with the little strength she had left and pulled out a pistol. The first bullet had already gone through his chest before he tried to run away. Still, he staggered upon his feet, seemingly looking for something to grip for support. When he looked up at her, he saw her pull the trigger again.
The soldier crumpled down before her, just before she herself was forced to her knees by the cut in her back. Monica dug her nails into the soil, hating how weak she felt and looked. And then she noticed the Duke of Anfield rush to where she was, frowning as tears blinded her eyes slowly. Was it the pain she felt or the feeling of vulnerability?
Either way, she hated it, and with her mind made up, she pushed herself up from the floor to her feet.
After shrugging herself away from Philip's hold with a groan, she reached for her jacket and began pulling it down her arms.
Jason could not help but pause his arching to watch her. The look on his face looked unreadable enough until her jacket had completely come off her body. It was then his brows creased to a frown after he'd seen the groove in her back. It was a deep, red line that revealed bloodstained flesh underneath her skin. And then, Monica groaned again, seemingly gasping for strength. He could only imagine the pain she could be feeling.
Frustrated, the Earl returned his attention to the soldiers who he realized were just two in number. The rest had been taken care of already and had their corpses littered around them as randomly as the leaves were.
Now, he narrowed his eyes at the men who both faced him now. He seemed to be the new target. Jason turned to the surprisingly disturbing scene of Monica groaning and felt his grip tighten around his bow. But this time, he wanted to try something slightly different.
Tossing his weapons aside, he took out a new set of bow and arrows, the expensive ones Monica recognized the day he saved her. Out of the case, he slipped out one and focused on both men. His intentions of killing two birds with one stone was a bit offensive to the men. And then, they went towards him to teach him a lesson.
Meanwhile, Jason gave the arrow one little kiss and fixed it into the bow, closing an eye and aiming.
He was the new source of attention as he always loved. Even Monica had stopped groaning and began gawking. What was this porcupine up to now? The aura was tense now while all his friends watched him expectantly.
When the soldiers were close enough, he smirked wickedly and released the arrow after spending all that time for the most beautiful aim. Afterwards, Jason relaxed and twisted his neck, as though convinced he had killed the men already. As a matter of fact, he was.
The weapon soared straight at the two with speed and determination. Every other person except the archer himself was watching. As far as the Earl of Vetcom was concerned, those men were as good as dead.
As much as they thought it was impossible, they hoped it worked.
The arrow finally reached the closest soldier, pierced into and completely through him, emerging from his back seconds after. And almost with the same speed, it stabbed into the second who was too busy planning his surrender to know it was coming. If Monica thought he imported the arrows just because they were a fortune, what happened right now just proved her wrong.
His friends were more shocked than impressed. But he sat there upon his animal, feeling as proud as he'd never been. His was so in love with his ego that the rest of the world could disappear for all he cared. But then, as always, Monica was the one to crush his pride. Even with the pain she felt, she still managed a small snicker and declared, "You never miss an opportunity to show off, do you my Lord."
Jason turned to glower at her and almost shot her a second arrow. Almost…
So he felt all that pity for her for nothing. She was the definition of an inconvenience, if he was asked.
Monica felt a hand rest carefully upon her shoulder. Cautiously, she turned around to find the Duke's golden gaze on her, making her gasp in utmost admiration. She was sure Elizabeth did not deserve to keep all that beauty to herself.
"Ride with me," was all he said with a tone of finality. That was going to be the first order she'd obey without counter.
After he had mounted his horse,he pulled her up in the gentlest of ways and placed her to seat behind him. After she balanced, he gave her a reassuring smile. And in response, she put her arms around him and snuggled against his back. From the looks of it, she would kill to remain in that position with him, her head rested on him in a possessive manner.
Philip however could not help but smile at it.
The Marquess was still standing with a frown on, watching the corpses that lay around in confusion. Even his frown was charming if the ladies were asked. "Who were they?" He asked no one in particular.
However, Nax answered after he'd refilled his uniforms with more daggers. He posed his reply to the Duke though, "This won't be the only attack you'll receive Your Grace."
Monica frowned now, thinking about it and realising it now made total sense, "So those black mouthed pigs were after the seal. And now my back…" she groaned again.
"Could you not be so careless with words darling," Philip smirked and turned his head to his side to look at her, "If it hurts so much, I could help you with it when we reach shelter."
His statement made her grip around him tighten in excitement, "Of course it hurts so much. So we'd better get shelter fast."
***
Elizabeth swirled around the massive hall, tapping her feet on the slippery marbles. She looked down the entire length of the building with a grin on. How luxurious it would be for her ruling such a duchy. Speaking of duchies, how was Philip? And speaking of Philip, how was Monica's seduction going? Somehow, she admired the wit they both had in their bloodline. And speaking of bloodline, she needed to find out all she could about the Forlands.
The mansion seemed very empty for an afternoon. Even the footmen seemed to be on a holiday. Anyways, she had better things to worry about. With the same swirl, she hopped through the hall and down several corridors, turning left, right, right again, just before she faced the doors to Rebecca's chamber. At the doorway, she paused slightly, waiting for Philip's mother to look up at her.
And when the older woman did, Elizabeth didn't wait for an invite before hopping into the room with a smile plastered on.
Steadily, the blonde walked to the lady and sat across from her, "My lady," she batted her lashes over those prim, innocent eyes.
Rebecca was previously engrossed in knitting a small flannel sweater. However, she tossed it aside and leaned back, returning the warm gesture with a knowing smile, "I'm afraid my son is not back from his trip, if that's who you came for."
Elizabeth straightened in her seat and shook her head, not taking the fake grin off her face even once, "Oh no my lady. I came to see you."
A frown of hunor rested on the Duchess's face as she took quite an odd interest into the topic now. Cautiously, she leaned forward, "Well that's a surprise. Is everything alright?"
Suddenly, Elizabeth couldn't hold the smile anymore, or at least she pretended not to. Her lashes stopped batting childishly and her usual grim returned, "Well now that you mention it, there's a problem." Elizabeth paused for a while, getting just the reaction she wanted from the lady, a worried frown. And suspense of course.
"I've just lost my brother, the new Viscount."
Rebecca's look remained unreadable for a moment as she looked at her, seemingly hoping for the blonde to grin again and call it all a joke. But when she didn't, the Duchess's mouth dropped in shock, "How…" was all she could manage.
Elizabeth went on explaining with utmost pleasure, forcing tears into her eyes in just a tiny amount it seemed too real and normal for any deceased person telling a story, "It's Monica."
The older lady's confusion did not still seem to be cleared. She tilted her head, obviously expecting more words. But Elizabeth didn't seem ready or able to talk. The tears in her eyes had just increased as she lifted up a tissue to wipe it off. Now it was up to the woman to make up the story for herself. After putting the pieces together, she painfully realized what Elizabeth was talking about.
"Don't tell me she's behind it…"
The lass did not respond, hanging her head low in a coy manner. That pose was enough to confirm the older woman's thoughts. Her hands remained upon her thighs, and as baffled as she was, she was unable to provide Elizabeth with the comfort she should need. She was certain some time ago that someone was after them, could this person be Monica.
When she looked at the blonde again, she had begun crying now, and automatically, Rebecca opened her arms to receive her in an embrace, "My child…" she trailed off, running her fingers through her hair in the softest of ways.
And there was Elizabeth hoping the tears would last her till the con was over.
A distant look settled on the Duchess's face, as though she was lost in thoughts somewhere, "Monica was not like this before. I never imagined the past would come hunt us in form of a new generation. She is…nothing like her mother."
At her words, Elizabeth genuinely frowned in confusion and lifted her head to meet the woman's eyes. For a lady who tried to steal your husband some time in the past, that was a nice thing to say.
"You should hate Miriam Maitland by now," she squeaked, "she attempted to steal the Duke away from you. What do mean she's nothing like her mother."
Rebecca forced a smile while admiring the seemingly naive little girl she held. After a sigh of frustration, she returned her gaze back to that distant land, "That was the news that went round, and consequently, everybody was forced to believe it." She looked down again and lifted the lass's chin higher to inquire, "Are you ready for a walk? There's something I'd love to tell you."
Yes! The entire story about the Forlands and Maitlands. She knew it would be easy to get it out from the older lady, but not this easy.
She gave a tiny nod, contradictory to the whirl of joy she had on the inside. How she enjoyed stories!