What could she say? That she had happened upon him while on her way to the stream one day? Estella shook her head. That was not just wrong; it was absurd. The most unbelievable lie anyone could concoct. What? Would the Duke willingly leave his turf, travel all the way to her villa, and visit the stream? For what? A bath? A casual stroll?
"Answer Mother when she's talking to you!"
Georgina's voice thundered mightily, shocking her into a tremble.
Frightenedly, Estella opened her mouth to speak, but Geraldine beat her to it.
"It had better not be a lie," she said. "So if you've invented some nonsense lie in that big head of yours, know this—you will be found out, and your punishment will be ten times worse."
"Exactly true!" Georgina said while tapping her foot against the floor.
Estella looked from one sister to the other, then back at the baroness, whose eyes had grown sterner by the minute, though the rest of her face retained its usual calm demeanor. She had better come up with something to say and fast. It didn't matter whether it was true or a lie. Anything was better than stretching out the baroness's wrath.
"The other day…" Estella stopped, then wiped one sweaty hand against the other.
"Yes?" Georgina pressed, urging her to continue.
Estella glanced at the baroness again.
"How I met His Grace was …" She swallowed, tried to steady her breath, and failed miserably.
She slurred again. "His Grace …"
"Do you need me to hit you again? Do you want a harder smack than last time to help you articulate your words better?" Georgina said seethingly.
"Maybe it hasn't dawned on you yet how long you've had us standing for."
"Do you blame her, Geraldine," Georgina said, giving a long and bitter hiss.
That made no sense to Estella, however hard she tried to reason it out. Not because of the fact that Georgina had hissed at her but because she'd just hinted at them standing for so long, all because of her. Why, though? Even while she had stayed perched at the kitchen door after the Duke left with her father, Estella mused, they had been lying—or rather, standing—in wait. What was so important about how she had come to know the Duke that they couldn't wait for the man to leave? He was still on the property, for God's sake.
"Dear girl," the baroness suddenly said coolly, "do you wish to speak with me privately about this?"
Estella's eyes widened. No, she did not. She knew all too well what that meant.
Just then, Geraldine said, "If she won't answer how she came to know His Grace," Geraldine eyed her suspectingly and folded her arms, "it can only mean one thing. Either she stole from him or…that other thing."
"Or what other thing?" Georgina stopped tapping her foot, stiffened her hands at her sides, and turned to Estella. "That is impossible, Geraldine."
Estella's brows curiously arched as she glanced at Geraldine, who was still eyeing her.
"Who said?" Geraldine's words were slow and deliberate. "What is impossible about His Grace sharing an intimate moment with her? It should not surprise you—it doesn't surprise me—the kind of tricks this slut of a girl can pull off to satisfy her wayward ways. Mark my words, Gina, she may have tried to seduce His Grace somehow." She sneered.
"She wouldn't dare!" Georgina swore. Then, as if turning the thought over in her mind and finding it ridiculous, she burst into laughter. "His Grace would not, even for the world, fall for a stunt like that. He could never be attracted to a girl like her. How could he bear to imagine her that way?"
Clutching her corseted ribs, she cackled louder.
⚕︎⚕︎
Estella.
Her name resounded in his mind for the fiftieth time today. Félix sighed. He did not like how she kept creeping into his thoughts every minute, yet he could not deny his burning desire to see her again. There was nothing particularly important he wished to discuss with her—seeing her was enough. But what if she did not wish to see him after that day?
His brows twitched at the thought. Had she been so angry at his refusal that she had vowed never to see him again? Was that why she'd hid from him back in the house? That would be childish if that were indeed her reasoning. His jaw ticked. Shouldn't he be the one offended by how she had cornered him that night?
"Baron Estefan!"
"Your Grace," the baron said haltingly.
For a man who had been hesitantly dragging the walk to the side of the house, he seemed deeply relieved, Félix noted from how his shoulders calmed.
"Let's settle this once and for all. I came because someone in your family owes me money."
"What?" the baron contended shakily. "Who… who may that be, Your Grace?"
Félix watched as the baron's stance shifted from relaxed to tense in an instant. Good. He had him right where he wanted.
"Did they… did anyone from my family steal from you?"
"I'm afraid so."
The baron's hand moved to his chest. Félix sneered. He considered that a feminine gesture. Real men did not display emotion so openly.
"At Lady Agatha's, they stole something from me."
My dignity. Félix mulled inwardly. For that, they owed him one.
"How much?" the baron blurted, his voice nearly a shout.
Félix's brows eased. The baron, he thought, was easy to read. The mere mention of money hadn't just startled him—it had terrified him.
"Which of the girls in there is named Estella? The blonde or the copper-haired one?"
"None, Your Grace! None of them!" the baron shouted.
Of course, it wasn't. Félix nearly scoffed but kept his expression carefully puzzled as if the answer genuinely surprised him.
"Wasn't that your entire family you introduced to me before?"
The baron shook his head frantically.
"No?" Félix said, intrigued. "Because one of your daughters owes me money—"
"Not them," Baron Estefan cut in sharply. "I'm sure it's her. Not my precious angel girls, Your Grace. It must be that Estella—she's the one who prides herself on taking what doesn't belong to her. Not Geraldine or Georgina."