Chapter 14

What was Lady Felicity playing at? Charles was aware of the mind games of women, but this was something else entirely. Two days ago, she was happy to close herself off as if worried they were becoming too close. And Charles, figuring it to be for the best, was happy to go along.

But with the way she had just behaved... he had no idea what to think!

And so, he dragged her through the alley until they were out of sight. One hand gripped firmly on her arm; she did not fight him, as if she was allowing him to lead her as if she wanted this confrontation – because that was what it would be. No more dancing about the subject. No more saying one thing and then doing another. It was time to find out where he and she stood, even if it was likely to be the end of them.

"What is the matter with you?" Charles snapped as he let go of her arm and turned on her.

"Did I do something wrong?" She blinked stupidly and touched her chest. "I have no idea what you are --"

"Do not play me for a fool, Lady Felicity. The way you acted just now. It is completely uncalled for."

"Funny you say that," she scoffed. "Most people would say that the way you have behaved is what was uncalled for."

"The way I acted?" Charles shook his head. "Complimenting the woman who I am at the theatre with on how she is dressed? Shame on me."

"No, not that," she responded coldly. "I am more than aware of the formality of this arrangement. You have made it perfectly clear. All I ask is that when we are together, that you refrain from flirting with future conquests right in front of me. In front of everyone, for that matter."

"I..." Charles paused. "That was not what I was doing."

"It could have fooled me."

"I was not flirting with Lady Beatrice," he groaned and rubbed his eyes as if in pain. "She approached me and Harry as we waited, and all I did was speak with her. I was being polite."

"That was not how it looked."

"I do not care how it looked!" Charles snapped, anger piquing inside him enough that Lady Felicity leaned back as if frightened. "And you should know as well as anyone how tenacious Lady Beatrice is. You think I wanted to speak with her?"

"I do not know. Did you?"

"Of course not! And the moment you arrived, you will have noticed that I left her."

"Correction?" She cocked an eyebrow at him. "It was well after I stepped out of the carriage that you did so. And it was she who left you. I was there, Your Grace. I saw it."

"You saw what you wanted to see."

"I saw --"

"Enough!" He stood before Lady Felicity but, in his anger, took a step toward her, forcing her backward so she was mere inches from the wall. "Do you know why I asked you to marry me? The real reason?"

"Oh, I am more than aware."

"I thought this would be easy, is why. Of all the women in the ton, you were the one whom I least suspected of playing games. That you would not try and trap me. That you would not try and trick me into falling for you. I was convinced that you would say yes, we would wed, and then you would leave me at the darn altar, for how cold you pretend to be."

She curled her lip. "Do not misunderstand why I am angry, Your Grace. If you think I have developed feelings for you..." She scoffed, but he could have sworn he saw a shadow pass behind her eyes. "The reason I am angry is because you have proven to be exactly what I thought."

"Which is."

"A rake," she snarled. "I will admit that for a moment, I thought that maybe you were different. That what people said of you was not true. But after the way you have behaved, I suppose I am the fool for giving you the benefit of the doubt."

"And why do you even care?" he shot back.

"Wh -- what?" she started as if caught off guard by the question.

"These things that you say. None of it is new. According to you, I am exactly what you suspected when you agreed to this arrangement. So why do you give a damn?"

"Who said that I do?"

He laughed. "Your actions, Lady Felicity. You behave like a scorned lover when according to you, love is the last thing on your mind."

"It is," she defended, stepping into him and raising her chin. "Nothing has changed. Perhaps I was – I was caught off guard by how obvious your debauchery might be. But that is all." She cocked a challenging eyebrow at him, looking into his eyes, daring him to argue with her.

What on earth was she playing at? That was the question that ran through Charles' mind as he stared Felicity down.

When this whole thing began, she made it perfectly clear that she had no interest in him. How little she thought of him. How her agreement to this whole charade was merely a means to an end because it was better to marry him under his terms than someone her father chose. And he had believed her.

It was their walk through the promenade where everything had changed. For a brief time, the two had managed to find a mutual ground, a sort of kinship where their similarities flourished as proof that they could be more than enemies and that this courtship didn't have to succumb to constant argument and fighting as it had seemed destined to. Why, for a time there, Charles started to wonder if maybe there was more here than either of them might have ever thought possible...

Of course, that changed the moment Lady Beatrice turned up. And Charles had been glad for it. He had been! He did not want a proper courtship. He did not want a romance. He wanted an easy solution to his damaged social status, and that was all. And the way Lady Felicity had behaved after Lady Beatrice had left them in the park, he figured she was of the same mind.

So again, he had to ask, what was going on?

"So..." Charles stood over Lady Felicity. Alone in the alleyway. Nothing but two walls, darkness, and the dull hum of the crowd around the corner. "You are not angry with me?"

"Relieved is a better word," she fired back. "And now that I am better prepared, I promise you that it won't happen again."

"A tantrum, you mean?" he smirked.

Her eyes flashed anger. "I did not throw a tantrum!"

"You most certainly did." He took a step closer, but she did not back down. "A scorned lover was how it looked. Why, I might have almost thought you were playing a role, in case anybody was watching. I might have even congratulated you on your quick thinking."

"As I said." She looked up at him, the fire in her eyes burning hot. "I was caught by surprise. That is all it was."

"So, you were not upset?"

She scoffed. "Why would I be upset?"

"Oh, I can think of a few reasons."

It was a dangerous game he was playing.

Charles did not want to form an attraction to Lady Felicity. Better that they hate one another so there would be no confusion about where the two stood. But he knew that she was lying to him. He knew that she was angry because she was upset that he had spoken to Lady Beatrice in that way. And he knew that she would never admit it out loud.

He could have simply left it.

He could have shrugged, said he understood, and then pretended as if nothing had happened.

He could have done any number of things. Anything but what ran through his mind. But Charles had developed his reputation for a reason and in the moment, alone as they were, tempers flared and blood pumping through their bodies as if they were one, he simply could not help himself. He had always been his own worst enemy.

Slowly, he reached out a hand, lightly resting it on Lady Felicity"s hip. She flinched but did not remove it. "It is silly really, but I suppose I thought that you were attracted to me. That you were jealous."

"Please..." she scoffed, doing her best to look him in the eyes, even if her body trembled the whole while. "Do not be absurd."

"Then this arrangement of ours will continue as is?" He stepped in closer, hand tighter on her waist, his body right against her own and, typical of Lady Felicity, she refused to back down.

"I do not see why not. I am only using you, remember?" she said coldly.

"As I am only using you."

"Then we are in agreement?"

"We are."

"Nothing has changed."

"Why would it?" She cocked a challenging eyebrow at him.

He stood over her. Their bodies pressed together. That hand tight on her hip. Their faces so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his lips. Charles had expected her to make her move by now, to prove to him that she wanted him. She was so close that he could feel it...

A shame that she was stubborn. A shame, too, that Charles was so ridiculously turned on by the moment that even if he had wanted to, he didn't think he had it in him to walk away.

A stupid idea. One that could ruin anything. But again, Charles rarely made smart decisions where his own livelihood was concerned.

Holding Lady Felicity"s stare, his eyes flicked to her juicy lips. Held them a moment. Looked back up and locked her in. He felt her catch her breath and in that moment, he knew he had no choice.

Charles leaned in and kissed Lady Felicity full on the lips and, typically, most predictably, she kissed him right back.

It was a full, passionate kiss. The kind that lit a fire between them. The dull sounds echoing from around the corner went silent. The little light that shone on them disappeared so that it was just them and their lips locked together. Tongues found their way inside of mouths. His hand gripped her so hard he worried he might bruise her. A whimper escaped her lips as he pressed himself closer, and Charles knew that if he wanted to, he could have taken her then and there.

But then he pulled away.

She did not try and follow him. She did not gasp or look distraught at the notion. Her stare was challenging as if daring him to try it again. As if daring him to accuse her once more.

"Shall we go back inside?" he said simply.

"Yes," she responded with equal cool. "I think we should."

Nothing else was said of the kiss. They turned about and wandered back to the theatre and then inside in silence. As if the kiss had never happened, as if all they had done was talk and double-down on their affirmation that this arrangement was business and nothing more.

Charles could not help but smile to himself as they did so, not letting Lord Moore and Lady Felicity"s sister see it as they took their seats. The kiss burned on his lips long after the play began, and his mind raced with the implications of what it meant.

There was an attraction between himself and Lady Felicity. A want that they both harbored in equal measure. But who would act on it first? Who would break? And who would admit that this courtship, this marriage of convenience, could not work? He would have liked to have thought that she would be the one to succumb to her lust but with the way that Charles was feeling, he wasn't so sure he was that strong either.