Winning The Heart 0f The Mischievous Duke (Historical Regency Romance)
Page 20
Nicholas was about to speak when suddenly, a shadow cast over them. Esther looked up and saw Stefan standing beside them. His hard gaze rested on Nicholas, and his right hand was already outstretched, towards hers.
"May I cut in?" he asked sternly. Her heart seemed to beat faster as he stood close to her. Her cheeks heated up, and she angrily glared at the floor, wondering what madness was befalling her. He was standing right there and —" Lord Milway, I would like to have a dance with the lady."
Esther's eyes widened. She snapped out of her flustered state and faced Stefan. She whispered his name, willing him to look at her. When he did, she sent him a querying look. He ignored her gaze and looked back at Nicholas. "Lord Milway. I remember the last time we met."
Nicholas let go of her immediately. "Of course. You may cut in. You're after all, officially courting her. "
Esther almost held on to Nicholas, but Stefan moved in immediately, cutting her off. Her hands were automatically in his, and they were moving to the rhythm. She was stiff, however, and shocked. She couldn't believe what Stefan had done. He didn't look at her either as they danced. He was so close to her, his scent filling her nostrils. His body moving stiffly with hers, his lips turning down, his eyes hidden from her. It felt good having him there with her, but she had been with Nicholas. She had the opportunity to try to salvage...whatever it was that was left of what they had. And perhaps she had been finding her way back to him. She would never be able to tell now because Stefan, in all his glory, had stopped it all. He had appeared, her stomach had fluttered, and the unsettling chill came this time, more stifling than it had been before. It all didn't make any sense.
She stopped moving all of a sudden, too angry to continue. She gently stepped away from Stefan, curtsied, then walked away angrily. She made a mistake, however. She had looked into his eyes before she fled. They were blue. The kind of blue she liked. The kind she wished Nicholas had. Maybe if he had them, things wouldn't be so complicated.
Chapter Twenty-Two
He wasn't sure what had willed him to take such drastic action. He had just remembered walking up to Eugene and asking if he had seen Esther. Eugene's reply had angered him.
"She had been talking with Henriette and myself, but some man with dark hair, in a dark coat took her away." Eugene had said.
"Dark coat?" he murmured, confused.
Henriette had touched his arm, her eyes had widened as well. "Oh, I remember. She said his name. “Lort Milway," she said in her French accent.
Eugene nodded absent mindedly. He wasn't sure. "Perhaps. They should be dancing. He had asked her to dance."
Two things made him mad. Lord Milway had come even though he hadn't expected that he would. Also, he had asked Esther to dance. How dare he? What made him so confident to do such? His jaws were clenched.
Eugene touched his arm gently. "Tis just a dance. Lady Esther will return to you soon."
But Stefan knew it wasn't just a dance. Lord Milway wanted Esther back. And this was him, attempting to make his move. And Esther. How could she dance with him? He had thought he'd have her first dance. But she has gone with Nicholas. His gaze had flickered amongst the people dancing. Then he'd seen them. Standing at the far end, gazing at each other and moving slowly. He had decided to approach them then.
Now he stood alone, by the corner as he watched Esther walk away angrily. Her skirts fluttered at the wake of her feet. Her grace still astounded him every minute. She looked breathtaking at that point in time. And all he wanted to do — he froze. His jaws clenched, and he swallowed hard.
"Have you gone bloody mad, Stefan?" he cursed under his breath. What was he thinking? What was wrong with him?
He was too furious to go after her. She had danced with Lord Milway before him. How could she possibly have done that? Hearing that she had gone with him and seeing her with him had made Stefan mad with rage. Seeing them move in rhythm, Esther smiling at something that Lord Milway had been saying, it made a chill run down his spine. He was the one who made her laugh, who made her cheeks as red as a rose. He liked it when her lashes fluttered. He had been there for her. So, he wondered why Lord Milway made her smile.
He let his gaze wander away from her. He didn't want to look at her when he felt so many things. It hurt him that she had fled, leaving him standing alone on the dance floor. He wanted her close, to hold, to touch. Seeing her walk away made his heart clench. He cursed again. He had always said he didn't need anyone, didn't get too close to anyone. But for some reason, with her, it was all different. He didn't like that she made him vulnerable. Perhaps he needed to keep his distance.
His eyes locked with Eugene, who sent him a quizzical look and then jerked his head to where Esther had walked past. Stefan shook his head. Eugene glared at him before sauntering over. He stopped in front of Stefan with his gaze hard. "You should go after her, Stefan. Whatever it is, it’s better you discuss and apologize."
Stefan didn't want to run after her, because he was afraid. And he wasn't sure what he was scared of. "No. Let her go." He didn't need her, didn't need to run after her. She had been the one doing something wrong.
"If you care for her, then you would care that your action has hurt her. Go after her, Stefan."
He let Eugene's words sink in. It took a while, but he realized how right Eugene was. He didn't look Eugene in the eye as he set out to look for Esther. He had seen her slip through the second door, the door that led to the hallway. Perhaps she had gone to the salon or the drawing-room. Anywhere she was, he was going to find her.
* * *
The hallway was silent when he emerged. He looked around and only the salon door was left ajar, slightly. He made his way over to it and poked his head in. And just as he thought, Esther stood there, her hands on her hips, facing the wall. He wasn't sure what it was, but seeing her that way, mad, angry, and able to express her anger, it was different from when he had first met her. She had been shy, withdrawn, and sad. Now she surprised him every minute.
He walked in and shut the salon door. She turned immediately, alert. When she saw it was him, he saw her rigid shoulders relax, and her features eased. However, it eased into a glare at him. Her outburst was quick.
"How could you? This was my opportunity. I was getting there, I was talking to him, and I had him right where I wanted, Stefan," she yelled at him. It was a good thing the salon was well away from the ballroom. His gaze searched her face as she spoke. He wondered if truly, he had hurt her by sending Nicholas away. He never wanted to hurt her. She had to know that he would never hurt her.
"Esther —"
"Just leave me be, Stefan." She waved her hand, telling him to go. "I just want to be alone." She spoke calmly, her eyes darted everywhere, as though she didn't want to look at him. She gripped both her elbows and murmured something to herself. He creased his brows and made to move forward. He touched her shoulder, his heart picked up a beat, Esther looked up at him, their eyes locked, and everything seemed to change at that moment. She withdrew herself from him, moving backward. She felt it, too.
"Stefan, you should go. I'm in no mood to speak with you. Your actions annoyed me."
He had no explanation for what had happened. All he knew was that it had. "You shouldn't have danced with him. It was too soon. I — I just wanted to help."
"Help?" She searched his eyes quietly. "Was that you helping me? I don’t think so, Stefan."
She walked towards him and stood in front of him. Though her words came out slowly, they had an edge. He couldn't place it, but her behavior was confusing. She seemed to be trying to avoid looking into his eyes, but she did anyway.
She blinked, clenched her jaw, and spoke. "You asked Lord Milway to leave. How was that any help at all? This was my chance! He finally came running to me. Just like we had planned, he was exactly where I wanted him to be." She said those words uncertainly, as though trying to convince herself.
Stefan wondered if it was a good thing that he was happy at that point in time.
Happy that even though she was angry at him for cutting in, he could see that she hadn't been quite thrilled dancing with Lord Milway.
He watched her in a new light, tempted to smile in victory. Perhaps his actions had not hurt her. She didn't seem that furious. She seemed to be trying to look mad. It was quite amusing, watching her brows crease, and her gesticulations try to emphasize her annoyance. She ranted on while her chest heaved, and her lips parted angrily. But her words drowned in the air as he watched her. Soon, all he heard was silence, because all he saw was her. All he saw was her beauty. She was so beautiful.
His eyes were clouded as he gazed at her. She was shaking her head, still shouting, and then, she stopped. "Stefan, can you hear me? Are you listening to me?"
His hands curled around her forearm, gently. She stiffened. Her gaze followed his actions. She swallowed and made to move back. He stepped closer, his second hand slipped around her waist. Esther was perplexed. Then he saw her chest rise and fall. Did she feel what he felt? The strange pull? The way he gazed at her, like he had not seen her before.
He couldn't fight it. He had tried, but from the first time he saw her that day he had wanted to do this.
"Esther," he whispered before he tilted his head and captured her lips in a kiss. His hands slipped around her waist, pulling her closer. His lips savored hers, yearning and seeking that she gave him the access he needed. His lips moved against hers, eager, hungry. She melted against him. Her hands moved to his torso and gripped his coat for a brief second before slipping around his neck. Her lips parted as well, and he let his tongue slip into her mouth.
Esther moaned against his lips, her fingers curled around his neck, and she pulled him closer. Stefan couldn't decide whether to keep his hands simply behind her or let them roam her waist. Her chest was against his, he could feel its rise and fall. Her lips tasted of wine, and it pleasured him. Her fingers trailed along his neck, and he moaned in satisfaction. The ecstasy of having her lips against his made him want more. More from her, more with her. His right hand moved, from around her waist, trailed slowly till it stopped on her chest and his index finger trailed on her nipple, above the fabric. He heard her moan against his lips and sigh in content. He wanted her. He craved her. He needed her. He wanted all of her, not just a kiss, not just at that moment. But for more than that moment. Forever.
He froze. That couldn't be possible. He didn't need anyone. The moment was gone. He stopped the moment, gripped her arms, and moved her away from him, panting.
He was breathless. They were both breathless and panting. He swallowed hard as Esther stared at him, her gaze clouded, and her lips parted.
"Stefan —"
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm sorry, I — I didn't mean for this to happen."
"Stefan —"
"I'm sorry, Esther." He was breathing roughly. He didn't want to hear whatever she had to say. He simply turned around quickly, cursing to himself. He pulled open the door and walked out. Leaving behind everything that had happened. It didn't mean anything, Stefan told himself. He didn't need her. She was in love with Lord Milway, and she belonged to him.
All he needed was himself, and he was fine. He didn't need anyone. That kiss meant nothing — just an attempt to keep her quiet because she irked him. Her grey eyes bewitched him. Her smell. Her lips. Her. Everything about her made him angry, and he knew why. He saw too much of her. He needed to stop seeing her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Another day and she was met with his absence. Lady Kinross shook her head immediately when she had set eyes on Esther, showing her what she had initially suspected. Stefan hadn't come to the orphanage. She wanted so badly to see him, but he had been missing and she wasn't sure how appropriate it would be to visit his home. She wondered if he wanted to see her. Although she was afraid of what would happen when they saw one another, she did want to see him.
The event of the ball was burned in her memory. The kiss with Stefan. It was nothing like she'd experienced before. She blushed as the memory of his lips on hers filled her being. One moment she had been confused, not particularly furious after he had touched her, the knots in her stomach had settled and that in itself had been unsettling.
She had wanted to be furious, to prove that the fluttering she felt inside had not been because he had touched her. So, she'd acted out, tried to be truly angry. But she ended up before him, and the next thing she knew, his lips were on hers, hot and fierce. And she had been unable to push him away because there were so many emotions reeling inside of her. His lips on hers calmed her, the fluttering inside her grew as she leaned into his arms and kissed him in return. It had felt magical to be in Stefan's arms, to have him hold her as he had, like she was cherished. But almost as soon as it had started, it ended. He broke away and left her standing there, perplexed, flustered, and her stomach returning back to knots.
When it had finally dawned on her that she had very much liked the kiss and longed for more, she sat on the settee near the hearth and breathed out hard. Until she gathered her wits and walked out of the room, searching for him in the ball, she didn't see him. And she had decided then that perhaps it was best if they gave each other space for that night. She had hoped to see him the following day or the next, but he had never shown up at the orphanage, and it had left her downcast.
Now, she stood on the staircase of Somerset Castle, thinking about the kiss. She trailed her hands on the rails of the staircase and stood there, touching her lips. She had been restless for days, bothered. Why had he kissed her? Why had she enjoyed it so much that perhaps, she wanted more? She wanted it again. She wanted to see him again. But he had left her there, and she hadn't heard from him since then.
She remembered the kiss, what she felt, how she felt. It was all surreal. But did Stefan feel the same way? Did he feel how special that kiss had been? The sizzling feeling, the knot in her stomach. She wondered if he had felt that way about the kiss. She never could tell with Stefan. He was, after all, a libertine.
"Esther."
Esther blinked, coming back to reality. At the top of the stairs, Anne and Katherine stood, beckoning for her to come up. "We don't have all day," Katherine reminded her.
Of course, how could Esther forget? Katherine was getting married, and they needed to choose fitting wear for her. Letting out a smile, Esther climbed up the rest of the stairs, apologizing for stalling. She still had Stefan in her mind, however. He was everywhere. His eyes, normally blue had seemed to turn an even darker blue before he had kissed her. Her hands around his warm neck. His index finger, grazing her nipple above the fabric. She had felt so different. Never before had she experienced those feelings, and certainly not ever with Lord Milway. And the worst part was that she wanted it again, she wanted to kiss him over and over again.
They arrived at Katherine's bedchamber and walked in. The Duchess of Somerset was already in there, tossing out white dress after white dress, each of her huffs louder than the former. She turned around instantly, her eyes wide.
The Duchess of Somerset always scared Esther. Esther and Anne curtsied while Katherine folded her arms with a smirk and nodded at her mother. "Mother, is everything alright?"
"You need to get a dress from the seamstress at Old Street. The one at Bowmount knows nothing about the proper outfit for an occasion. Did you tell her you were to be wed? These dresses —" The Duchess gestured around helplessly and turned to stare at Katherine. "This won't work. We'll send word to the seamstress at Old Street. She makes better dresses than these."
Katherine shook her head. "Mother, Victor recommended that seamstress. It would break his heart that I do not wear her dresses."
"You need to look beautiful, Katherine, not look horrible at the expense of pleasing others. Anne, Esther, speak to her." The Duchess walked in between Katherine and Esther, causing Esther to move rapidly and fight for her stance as she almost fell.
Anne laughed and huffed. "That was intense."
"Mother is always intense."
"Mother wants something extravagant. A very nice dress with a long train that follows the path I walk. It'll be too heavy for me." Katherine crossed her hands and sighed. "With the babe and a heavy dress, I may be so occupied in feeling comfortable that I may not allow myself to enjoy the day. Victor recommended the seamstress because he trusts her to be discreet with my demands for the dress. I don't want to go to the seamstress at Old Street. The whole town would hear that I'm with child before the day runs out."
Anne slung her hands around Katherine's shoulders and led her to the bed.