Chapter 18
Ah.
Felice swallowed hard.
It seemed Claude had grown suspicious after her reaction during the first lesson—the hesitation she showed during such a provocative topic.
Because of this, he must have asked Duke Vanessa’s circle if they knew anything about Felice’s past lovers—but likely got no answers.
His doubts only deepened, and eventually, suspicion turned back toward her.
No wonder—Claude’s official surname was Racliffe, and he was the heir to a major railroad business. How many people must have gathered around such a figure? Yet, not a single mention of Felice had ever come up, which only fueled his mistrust.
Ah, what a mess…
Though feeling cornered, Felice calmly nodded and quietly considered the truth behind it all.
Was Claude truly curious about who her lovers were?
…No.
After a brief thought, she reached a simple conclusion.
If he had really wanted to know, he would have asked directly. Most likely, he was searching for a reason to end the lessons.
His change in attitude may have just been an act. After all, he had never liked Felice from the start.
“I understand that my romantic history is naturally important for these lessons, but it’s also a private matter. May I ask—did you find my teaching unsatisfactory?”
Felice asked gently. Claude responded with a slight smile.
“To be frank, yes. Miss Felice, I was not at all satisfied with your lessons.”
He tugged at the butterfly tie around his neck, loosening it with ease, and dropped it carelessly onto the table. A servant waiting behind quickly took it away.
“Ah…”
Felice bit her lower lip.
If he was going to revoke her employment over the quality of lessons, she would have no excuse.
But…
Felice met Claude’s gaze firmly. She couldn’t afford to be fired.
Not only was the 10,000 francs at stake, but he might also be the one holding her grandfather’s heirloom.
If not, that would be a relief—but if he did have it, maintaining a good relationship was crucial.
A prince wouldn’t meet with a dismissed tutor again, after all.
“Claude, since this is your first lesson, I tried to be considerate. I suppose I worried for nothing.”
Having made up her mind, Felice put down her cutlery and wiped the corner of her mouth.
“I’ll need to speed up the lesson progress.”
Felice answered in a low, firm voice.
“When would you like to begin?”
* * *
“After dinner would be best.”
“Yes, understood.”
Claude nodded leisurely.
Though she answered calmly and appeared confident, her hands beneath the table were likely soaked with sweat.
Her job as a relationship coach was built on a web of lies—it was painfully clear she had never truly been in a man’s arms.
<Ha! That woman a femme fatale who captivates men? The sun must be rising in the west tomorrow!>
The creditor who held the full debt of 10,000 francs from Baron Kelton reportedly declared with heavy drinking that it was impossible.
The report detailed his conversation bluntly:
[The man, heavily intoxicated, insisted that in the four years he observed her, she was never like that.]
<Seems like she’s come into some money recently, but there’s no way. If anyone even touched a hair on her body, I’d bite my tongue off.>
Claude, having read the report, agreed.
She appeared less like a femme fatale and more like a woman faithful to her honor.
Claude studied her face carefully. …If she dressed well, maybe she could pass as a femme fatale after all.
“May I ask one question before we begin, Claude?”
But how long could she maintain this composure in front of him?
Claude thought if it dragged on until tomorrow, he could finally dismiss this ridiculous relationship tutor.
He planned to use Elise as an excuse to tell his mother and aunt he was ‘dating,’ so this tutor would become unnecessary.
“Of course.”
“I asked about your ideal type. Have you given any thought to the kind of person you prefer?”
Claude couldn’t help but chuckle at the question.
It was amusing that she still tried to teach him. Still, he decided to play along for what might be her final lesson.
“I like assertive women. Since I’m clumsy at first, I tend to be attracted to women who take the lead.”
He deliberately named an assertive woman as his ideal type.
She would try to fit that ideal, but it was unlikely she ever would.
“Ah… I see. Yes, understood. I’ll tailor the lessons accordingly.”
Felice nodded.
Claude watched quietly as she looked ready to pull an ink bottle and notebook from her leather bag at any moment.
“May I head upstairs to prepare?”
Felice asked. Claude smiled and nodded willingly.
Gladly.
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