Champagne

Elizabeth escaped to the banquet hall further away from the ballroom. It was less crowded and other wallflowers were helping themselves to the buffet.

"Elizabeth?"

Approaching from behind was a few of her acquaintances from her hometown. They themselves shared a familiar story as commoners with wealthy families or those who sold their peerage.

"We were not sure if you would come."

"Why are you hiding in here?"

"Were you not dancing with the Baron?"

Elizabeth held up her hands in surrender, "I was not feeling well–"

"Oh my! Elizabeth, your wrist. It's bleeding!"

She checked her arm and the pearly white glove had a small, red stain. Earlier, when James dragged her to the dance floor, he must have irritated her wound. "It's a small cut don't worry about it."

"What if you get a scar? We must summon a medic right this instance."

"I am truly alright. Please, I do not want to cause a scene." She calmed down the three girls and reassured them she will find a medic herself. She had no choice but to leave the banquet hall and pace in the hallway, unsure where to hide.

"Moth- Ahem, Elizabeth. Are you alright?" Rosie spotted her from the ballroom and was relieved to see her alone. "I read over the note. It was written in a rush and her spelling isn't the best to begin with."

Eliza read over the secret message and could only decipher a few words.

"Ball... Trick... No drink?" She sighed and rubbed her temple. She provided tutors for the girls to learn the continental language during their free time. Surely, Daisy wasn't slacking in her studies...

Remembering Daisy's carefree attitude, Eliza pressed her palm to her forehead and was disappointed in herself for assuming she ever took her academics seriously. But it doesn't change the fact that the note came with a vague warning.

"Rosie, I don't want you to leave my side tonight. I don't know what that shitty Baron is preparing and I am not keen on being alone with him and finding out."

Rosie tucked her fiery red hair behind her ear and nodded confidently.

"It's difficult to gather much more from this letter. We just have to stay vigilant for the rest of the night."

"Must you stay any longer?" Rosie leaned closer and pouted.

Elizabeth had considered that already, but the suspicious figures that followed her around should not be taken lightly, "As much as I would love to slip away, I am being monitored closely by Lord James's subordinates. He may try to intercept my carriage. I wouldn't put anything past that basted." She cautiously re-entered the ballroom and immediately felt intense gazes from all around.

"We're surrounded. Act calm."

The two beautiful women were hard to ignore but also too intimidating to be approached. All except for two men.

"My dear!" Viscount Clifforde blocked Rosie's path and kissed her wrists in worship. As a professional, she easily swallowed her disgust and allowed him to shower her with affection.

"Allen. I thought I told you to wait for me at the table?"

"And let you roam around, surrounded by these dogs?" He hugged her shoulders and tried to lead her away, but she planted her feet and scowled.

As the Viscount tried to ease his mistress's anger, an unpleasant voice spoke over Eliza's shoulder.

"Elizabeth. I have been waiting for you patiently. I was hoping we could work out the misunderstanding from earlier." He grabbed her injured wrist and she visibly winced; he didn't seem to notice nor care.

'Elizabeth?' Why has he suddenly addressed her casually? Something dropped in her stomach as she felt unease about the situation. It seemed like a planned stunt to drive the women apart from one another. Eliza couldn't cause a scene and the Viscount was a large man who blocked Rosie's path while apologizing profusely.

"My Lord, you're hurting me." She stumbled as he walked her along the walls of the ballroom and led her to the balcony. As soon as the warm wind ruffled her skirts, her chest began to heat up the same way as before. She pressed her palm against it to ease the pain.

When they were completely alone on the secluded balcony, she shook off his hand and her expression was frosty.

"I just want to talk." James approached her until her back was against the railing. He trapped her between his arms pressed against the railing.

"I believe I made it clear that I have nothing to say to you."

"For your sake, I hope you are only joking."

Her brows furrowed after that threat. She huffed and crossed her arms but didn't interrupt him again.

He lifted his hand and brushed it along her cheek, "I wanted to tell you earlier, but you look rather delectable tonight."

"Hah!" This was his true personality. His letters are not only dramatic confessions and excessive flattery, but also included his personal fantasies of her. Sexual, perverted, abusive; his letters had no mercy for her eyes or digestion. It showed just how much of a disturbed man he truly was. He loosened his silk cravat and dipped his head close to her neck.

She scowled and tried pushing him away, but he was hardly even swayed. "Stop this nonsense right now!"

"Why should I?"

The moment she felt his lips touch her neck, the burning on her chest felt like it was searing into her skin like a branding.

"Get off!" She pushed against his face directly until he stepped back willingly.

"Forgive me, Elizabeth. I tend to lose my sanity around you." He gave up surprisingly easy and didn't seem offended by her resistance. Instead, he signaled over a server with two champagne flutes.

"May I apologize over this glass?"

She rolled her eyes but accepted her drink. She figured the faster she drank this, the sooner she could excuse herself.

Once the alcohol wet her top lip, the contents of Daisy's letter made her hesitate. She had mentioned something about a drink near the end of the letter and this entire situation already felt orchestrated.

Eliza lowered her glass, "I can forgive you without a drink. Instead, promise to refrain from such actions in the future." She tried to leave but he grabbed her upper arm and wouldn't let her take another step.

"I would feel more at ease if you accepted my gesture. If not, I feel I may be so overcome with guilt that I would come by your house with a bouquet every day for the next few weeks."

She scowled and eyed the suspicious drink.

"My God James, you still seem unable to take a hint when a woman expresses her discomfort."

A golden mask reflected the lights inside the ballroom and the man from earlier approached them with a leisurely walk. His shirt had already been unbuttoned at the top and the slightest bit of chest hair was visible. His broad shoulders and wide chest made Eliza assume he wasn't a noble. He ran his fingers through his styled hair and spoke with a carefree lull in his tone. His masculine charms didn't work on Eliza who was already dealing with one troublesome man.

The pain in her chest was visibly showing on her face now and her breaths were uneven. She just wanted to be left alone. Why is that too much to ask?

"Hah! Bold words coming from you of all people." James focused all his attention on the stranger and Eliza tried slipping away from the scene. He still noticed her intentions and his grip on her bicep tightened.

"It is unwise for a Baron like you to talk down at me." There was the slightest pulse in his neck as he covertly unbuttoned his sleeves.

James should have thought twice about his next words, "I respect those who deserve it. You're nothing but a bastard with a fake title."

The air around the other man dropped several degrees and his eyes darkened, "It appears you do need to be taught a lesson."

Caught between two bickering men, Eliza's head spun and the pain in both her arm and chest made her irrational.

Looking down at the glass of champagne, she was sure of one thing; he wouldn't try to kill her.

Tilting her head back, she tried to drink the entirety of the glass. Several things happened at that moment. James's expression was victorious, the other noble reached forward, but a slender hand beat him to it and knocked the flute after a single sip. Rosie filled Eliza's vision as she apologized with slurred words but the sharp look in her eyes proved she was in her right mind.

"Ah-! I apologize on behalf of my Dear, she becomes easily drunk." Viscount Clifforde grabbed Rosie's waist to drag her away and tried coaxing her as she struggled.

Eliza shared a brief, meaningful look with her friend and tried looking flustered herself. The drink had spilled down the front of Eliza's peach-colored dress.

"Ah! How embarrassing, this lovely dress became soiled so suddenly." She searched for a handkerchief to wipe away the sticky alcohol. While she was still soaked, both the men paused to watch the liquid glistening against her pale skin. The drips trailed down her neck and followed the curvature of her modest cleavage and probably dampened the corset tightened around her ribs. The men simultaneously gulped.

Eliza was unaware of their reasons for staring and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I apologize for wasting your precious drink, but I accept your apology regardless. Please refrain from such actions in the future." Even though her voice dripped with honey, her cold, green eyes were chilling. "I must return home now that my attire has become so unsightly." James let go of her arm and she curtsied politely.

Confused, the two men watched her leave them behind and disappear into the crowd. After that, the other man grabbed ahold of James's collar and interrogated him. "What did you put in that drink, damnit!"

James scoffed but wouldn't respond.

Enraged, the man pushed him back and he flew several meters before colliding with the brick wall. James passed out immediately. The other man chased after Elizabeth's retreating figure and only caught up to her by the circle of carriages.

"Milady, please allow me to offer you a ride."

She ignored him and walked along the path, looking for her driver. Her gloves felt tight and sticky from alcohol, so she took them off and tossed them aside. The man quickly caught up and walked alongside her.

"James already sent your coach away. He had no plans of letting you leave tonight."

Eliza slowed her walk until stopping completely and clenched her fists. She bit her lips and withheld her burning rage. There wasn't a single day that she didn't want to strangle that bastard who never stopped harassing her. Her nails dug into her palms until something wet dripped and soaked into her skirt.

"Milady?"

She spun around, "As you wish." As much as she'd rather walk herself home, there were still many eyes watching her and the chances of being taken from the streets were much higher. "Show me the way." She offered her hand for him to hold and didn't realize her palms were slightly bleeding from crescent-shaped cuts on her palm.

"You're injured." He gently turned both her hands over and looked at her injuries with anguish. He also spotted the stained bandage on her arm and sighed. "What will I do with you?" He didn't touch her open wounds and instructed her to keep them facing upwards. His coach was at the very front and was the largest and most extravagant one amongst the others.

She knew there was no other choice but to accept his benevolence, but it still felt like she was willingly entering the tiger's den. Even though the remaining, faint burns on her chest had dissolved as soon as he touched her; she was still distrustful.

"Is this carriage to your liking?"

She nodded. The velvet cushions were far more comfortable than anything she's ever ridden in, and it made her relax.

"My coachman is trustworthy; he will take you safely to your residence."

She was surprised that he noticed her reluctance towards yet another unfamiliar man and softly smiled to show her thanks.

"Well then," He bowed from outside the carriage, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Lady Girard. I hope to cross paths with you in the future." He flashed her a mysterious smile and her heart clenched.

"Ah yes. Thank you, Sir...?"

Rather than providing his surname for her to call him, he closed the carriage door and sent them off.

Too curious to resist, she parted the curtain enough to watch the man's lone figure until they rounded a corner and he disappeared from her sight. For some reason, there was an empty feeling in her chest now that they parted ways. Briefly, as in for less than a second, she had a terrible thought; that she missed his presence. She shook it off as soon as it came and diverted her attention elsewhere.

Looking down at her hands he handled so gently, she noticed pink crescents of healing skin across her palms, as though she wasn't bleeding just minutes before. The sting in her arm had also disappeared and she scoffed first at the miracle, and then at her surprising strength to break her skin so easily. She decided it best to file her dangerous nails as soon as she returned home. That silly thought occupied her mind for a bit until they entered Mr. Taylor's neighborhood.

The moment she shifted on her seat; the slightest moan slipped out. A dangerous heat was swelling between her thighs. The single sip she took of that drugged champagne still affected her body noticeably. She felt guilty at the thought of relieving her frustration in her uncle's guest room, but would rather it be herself taking care of it than a certain demon.

"That man from earlier seems like he gives good sex." She covered her mouth, shocked with herself for making assumptions about a stranger. "But his chest looked so strong…" Sometimes, she must let the intrusive thoughts win. That night, her fingers pleasured herself like usual, but this time accompanied with fantasies of that man taking her in fashions unbefitting of a lady.