She had fire, Félix would give her that. Few people could stand before him and speak so freely without faltering. Yet here was this maiden, shamelessly claiming she had been trying to seduce him from the start. Because wasn't that what this was?
This all happened because he had suffered an unpleasant exchange with Coralie back in the ballroom. Which was more of a minor dispute, really. She had informed him that her father, the King of Canterbury, intended to bring him about to dinner within the week. Knowing his tendency to dismiss engagements he deemed pointless, Coralie had decided to tell him in person. That had sparked their quarrel. She had demanded to know why, since the day of their engagement, he had not once presented himself before her family. It was as if she were betrothed to a ghost, she had said. Then, in the heat of the moment, she had stormed off through the back exit.
Naturally, Félix had gone after her, hoping to placate her. When she had picked up her pace, he had followed. He had assumed she was acting irrationally, but he had been wrong. The woman he had hunted down, caught, and even kissed was not Coralie at all. She was a total stranger, and from the look of things, she was also no royal family member.
Now, he watched her closely, this woman in front of him, searching for any sign of remorse. If she had aimed to seduce and then blackmail him—knowing Coralie was still at the party and that his reputation mattered—he doubted she would feel the slightest regret. But he hoped for it. A flicker of hesitation. Just something.
She could not have orchestrated his arrival at the back exit nor predicted his reaction to chasing her. Unless, of course, she had known about his dispute with the princess and seized the moment to her advantage.
"Who put you up to this?" Félix's voice was firm, leaving no room for hesitation.
Ignoring how her jaw dropped open, he added, "If you don't want to give me your name, at the very least, give me theirs."
Estella opened her mouth, but no words came forth. The accusation was so absurd it stunned her into silence. Did he seriously think someone had sent her after him? Her? A nobody whose place had never stretched beyond the kitchen walls, forever bound to scrubbing soot from pot bottoms? She didn't have it in her to seduce him, or any man for that matter.
"Name your price," Félix said suddenly. "I don't care who hired you. Whatever they paid, I'll double it."
Estella burst out laughing. Félix stood, stunned.
She laughed so hard it rolled up her diaphragm, rattling her ribcage. She could not believe what this man was insinuating.
Félix sneered. "What's so damn funny?"
"You, sir."
Estella clutched her stomach, still laughing hard.
Félix waited.
"You're too funny," Estella wheezed between breaths after what felt like a century of laughter. "Your insinuations are so absurd that I can hardly believe my ears."
Straightening herself, Estella stepped closer, ignoring the sting in her foot. She squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze. "If all you say is true, can you afford to pay me off?"
Félix held her stare. "I'm not here to play games with you, maiden. Name your price."
"What if it's beyond your budget?"
"Nothing is ever too expensive for me."
"If you say so," Estella resigned.
Her foot throbbed unbearably now. She'd be limping for days if she didn't get the spike out. She couldn't have that. Settling on the ground, she curled her foot toward her and, using the moonlight, pulled the twig from her sole.
It was her fault for assuming it was only a tiny cut. Blood splattered onto her white dress: Georgina's dress. Her stepsister's. Getting the stain out would be difficult, but that didn't matter now. Escape was no longer an option in her current state.
"What on earth are you trying to do?" Félix cursed, rushing to her side.
He knelt beside her, tore a strip from his shirt, and tied it around her foot.
"Do you want to get yourself killed on my account?"
He sounded angry, but not in a way that truly alarmed her. What surprised Estella was how much fuss he was making over a mere wound. Where she was from, she could have lost a limb and been left bedridden for life, and no one would have spared her a second glance. She had not expected a man of his standing to show concern, much less to someone like her.
"Estella," she mouthed.
He did not indicate having heard her, so she spoke again. "I said my name is Estella."
Félix secured the cloth around her foot and helped her up. She winced but swiftly concealed any sign of discomfort. He took note of her resilience. Who was this woman?
Right. Estella. She had a fine name. But even that may also be a lie, another manipulative attempt to draw him in.
"What do you want from me?"
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Félix said flatly. "Why give me your name now? Don't even kid yourself into thinking I would ever believe a single word that comes out of your mouth."
Estella exhaled sharply, absently nodding to herself. His sudden shift from concern to coldness stung more than she cared to admit. She snapped, "Why ask at all if you never intended to believe me?"
"That is for me to know," Félix shot back. "Now that I think of how you played me into your arms, I can't help but be all the more angry."
Estella bit down hard on her lip. "You should have left me then. You should have left me to bleed out onto the grass and die. I would be more at peace than standing here arguing with you, trying to convince you or not convince you of my actual name. You know what? You can choke on your arrogance. Have a good day."
She turned sharply, ready to march back to the ball, then paused to add, "And for the record, it was you who came onto me. You kissed me against my will. So, no matter how you try to twist this, I will not let you win. Mark my words."
Enraged did not begin to describe how she felt. Furious. Exasperated. She had no idea who he was, and frankly, she did not care to know. Did he think himself a king? A prince? Even if he were of royal standing, did that give him the right to be such an insufferable ass? And that was putting it nicely. Estella wished there was a way to make him eat his words right then and there.
It didn't seem fair. None of it did. Had she not hurt her foot because of him? And forfeited her escape plan also because of his unwanted interruption? And now, because of him, she would have to endure another hour in the suffocating presence of the old viscount. It did not sit right with her to let him walk away unscathed. She had to do something, but what?
~
Félix exhaled sharply, watching the slender girl storm away. Her mood did not concern him. What unsettled him was her parting words. What did she mean by not letting him win? Win what exactly? So he had been right. She indeed had a motive to blackmail him.
Well, he would not fall for it. Once he returned to the ball, he would tell Coralie everything that transpired between them before this girl could even think to twist things against him.
Just as Félix settled that thought, Estella suddenly turned around and started marching back toward him. She was not simply walking. She was moving with purpose, determined, and calculated.
Félix clicked his tongue and turned away, expecting her to back down and return inside.
She did not.
In a hot flash of a minute, she rounded him, and before he could react, her mouth was on his.