Estella had no idea what she was doing. She wasn't sure whether she was kissing him the right way or not, only that she had decided to do so in the first place. It was a dumb move, maybe, but she figured she had a plan.
Shoulders squared, she grabbed a handful of the man's hair at the place where it met the base of his skull. He grunted into her mouth, or at least she thought he did. Fully committed to her course, she worked her mouth against his, mimicking the way he had just moved when kissing her.
Then, unexpectedly, something metallic trickled down her throat. It tasted a little bit salty, too. Her brows furrowed. She sucked in a quick breath through her nose, adjusting her hold on him as if that might somehow wipe out what she was tasting.
"God's teeth, woman, off with you!" Félix shoved her away so violently she nearly lost her footing, but she managed to catch herself somehow.
"What in heaven's name is wrong with you?" he barked, furiously wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his doublet. As if drowning his beard and cheek in her slimy saliva wasn't bad enough, she had also managed to make his gums bleed.
"Did you mistake me for your next meal? What in God's name was that?"
The image of her teeth digging into his gums refused to leave the Duke's mind. Why had she come back only to do this? Had they not already said their final goodbyes?
To Félix, this was nothing short of reckless revenge. Pointless, even. She had no reason to inflict such a spiteful injury on him. Because what world did she live in if she lacked even the most basic understanding of kissing? Surely, someone older in her circle would have taught her by now—if not her mother, then a governess or something. Even housemaids and cooks freely gossiped about such things nowadays. She had undoubtedly meant to hurt him on purpose. There was no other explanation.
"Did you know you can be persecuted for this?"
Estella hesitated, rethinking her next move. He looked really angry, and given that she had no idea who he was or how much power he held, backing down was the sensible choice. Otherwise, what were her odds? Slim, at best. When had luck ever been on her side to expect this time would be any different? She should apologize, turn back around, and run off to Lady Agatha's Ball. Besides, it wouldn't be her first time having taken the coward's way out.
"Now, we're even," she said instead.
The man's eyes widened.
"Don't act surprised," she continued. "It was you who came on to me accusing me of seeking you out to seduce you. I believe I have just now done a good job justifying your claims."
Was she being serious right now? Félix barely held back a laugh. He figured if he let it slip, he would laugh so hard and embarrass himself.
But one thing was certain: she was a funny one. Had she really just called that poorly rehearsed mouth thing she did a kiss? Was that supposed to be her attempt to seduce him? He struggled to believe it. Either she was mocking him, or she was utterly delusional.
"Name your price." Estella dropped the bomb on him, then hid her sweaty palm behind the other.
"What did you say?" Félix asked.
She repeated, "Name your price."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
His voice had tapered off with an unreadable emotion that got her weak in her knees, but she held out her chin. "Didn't you once offer to pay me off? Now, make me an offer I cannot refuse. Otherwise, I will go in there"—she gestured toward the Ball—"and make everyone think you dragged me out here to take advantage of me. I know exactly what that would do to your reputation."
"Say. That. Again," Félix said through gritted teeth as he inched closer to her.
Instinctively, Estella stepped back. Something in him had changed. His already dark eyes darkened further.
Félix straightened his back from seeing her retreat into herself. "You may know my name, but know this: you have no idea what manner of man I am or what I could do to you in an instant."
No, she did not. She didn't know his name or what he could do to her out here in the dark. Estella swallowed. Hard. Only now did she fully grasp how alone they were on this side of the lawn. He could do as he pleased—hurt her, or worse, kill her and dump her body in the dense woods to the east of there. She shuddered. A sudden, primal fear rippled through her bones, shaking her to the core.
In what world had she thought this would work? How had she convinced herself a man like him would take her blackmail lying down?
More than anything, she wished for the ground to open and swallow her whole. She told herself that it would be a far better fate than whatever this man was plotting behind those hollow black eyes.
~~~
"There you are," said a female voice, accompanied by a slap on her back.
Estella sighed, then turned, forcing a smile. The one who had hit her was Georgina, her stepsister. She had expected someone to come looking for her. Better Georgina than the Baroness.
"Where were you this whole time?" Georgina asked, folding her arms. "Mother has been looking everywhere for you. Did you know that? Did you know Viscount has been asking to dance with you?"
"How would she know?" came another voice from behind.
Estella did not need to turn. She already knew who it was. It was Geraldine, Georgina's twin. Both girls were her older sisters.
"She was probably sneaking off with a man in some corner, bringing shame and disgrace upon the family's good name," Geraldine said. "I told Father this would happen. I told Mother too. But neither of them would listen. And now look, she even has a bandage on her foot from doing God knows what. By the way, where are your shoes? Don't tell me you lost them."
Getting no response, Geraldine flew into a fit of rage. "For heaven's sake, Estella, how much more uncouth and ill-behaved can you be tonight? You couldn't conduct yourself properly for even one night?" She ended with a hiss.
"Quit your nagging, Geraldine. We both know why she's here in the first place. The Viscount requested it, and Mother and Father had no choice but to bend to his will," Georgina said, turning to Estella with a malicious look.
"That pathetic prick," Georgina muttered. Then, fixing her gaze on Estella, she added, "At least you won't be around to bother us for long. After today, we won't have to drag your ugly self with us everywhere, let alone to a ball of this ranking. That much is certain. I'll fetch Mother. Geraldine, keep an eye on her in case she tries to disappear again."
Estella heard every word but was in no state to concern herself with either sister's nonsense. She had a far bigger problem of her own, one she had brought upon herself.
"You had better have that foot cured by the time that old fox arrives," Geraldine said, referring to the Viscount, as she often did.
Estella sulked, her stomach twisting at the reminder. This would not be the first time she had danced with the Viscount. The last had been at his estate on the day their engagement was sealed. She could still recall with sickening clarity the disdain she felt when his slimy arms curled around her waist, pulling her against him. She had hated the way he had nibbled at her neck without warning. But with the Baron and Baroness present, she had not been free to react as her instincts urged her to.
Tonight would be even worse. She could not afford to make a scene with so many people around. The bandage on her foot might have served as an excuse to avoid dancing, but she knew the Baroness would never allow it and the Viscount even less. Alistair, brief in stature though he was, had an ego vast enough to fill the world. She had no doubt they would force her to dance with him. Both her parents would.
"What are you doing standing there moping like a blind rat? Put on some shoes," Geraldine said. Then, she quickly added, "Good. Here comes Mother and the Viscount himself."
Estella's throat tightened the moment she heard it.