A/N: This is a victorian-ish setting. Not strictly victorian, as I'm not an expert, but I did a lot of research into titles and peerage to try and get a lot of it right. Please enjoy.
The door to Stiles' small room slammed against the wall with the force of the shove that had opened it. Blearily, he blinked away the sleep in his eyes and sat up. A normal person would have startled awake, but not Stiles. Being woken up in this manner was entirely too common for him to be surprised. Instead he took his time stretching and even threw in an exaggerated yawn. The woman at the door tapped her foot impatiently.
"If you make me wait all day, I'll make sure your shoes go missing," she threatened in the sweetest voice.
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Stiles picked up his pace. He swung his legs over the edge of the short bed and dug into the broken top drawer of the tiny dresser by his headboard. Huffing in annoyance, the woman stormed out of view, but Stiles knew she wasn't dismissing him. She expected him in the sitting room in five minutes, as usual. And she'd time him too.
After quickly pulling on his clothes, Stiles stuffed his feet into house shoes and left the room, closing the door gently behind him so it wouldn't fall off its hinges. It had done that once, when Stiles had been raving about the fact that his door was treated so poorly and had slammed it back shut. If it broke again, it would just mean he'd have to fix it again, and he'd rather not.
He combed his hair with his fingers as he walked, and while that wasn't good enough for polite society, it would be good enough for this. A young maid smiled at him and his disheveled hair when she entered the same hall as him, and he grinned right back at her. Her arms were full of freshly washed and folded towels, but that didn't stop her from being the quickest maid in the household.
"Morning, Caitlyn," he greeted smoothly. "You look as lovely as ever."
"Oh shut up, Stiles," she said, but she smiled wider and rolled her eyes affectionately. Without prompting, the maid pulled a sprig of mint from her apron pocket and handed it to him as they passed.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said with an exaggerated bow, turning backwards so as to face her.
Again she rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Stiles," she said again, but he could hear her laughing as she turned a corner.
Popping the mint into his mouth, Stiles continued on his walk. He chewed up the herb and rubbed it all around the roof of his mouth before swallowing it, then he ran his tongue over his teeth to get any remaining bits. At the end of the hall, he saw an open door, but he paused before he came up to it. Holding his hand up to his mouth, he tested his breath and smelled only mint. Perfect.
He ran his hands once more through his hair and then stepped into view of the door. He wasn't even across the threshold before she started talking.
"About time," she said. "I've been waiting for over an hour."
"You woke me up four minutes ago," Stiles pointed out.
The room held a large, u-shaped couch, which she was leaning back on. There was also a decent sized wooden table with four chairs set up on the side of the room, but Stiles didn't sit on either option. Instead he moved briskly to the small writing desk in the corner, opposite the party table. He opened the drawer on the desk and pulled out a few sheets of paper, then opened another drawer for his ink.
"Well I've been awake for over an hour, waiting for your lazy butt to get out of bed," she corrected. "Are you ready to scribe or not?"
Stiles dipped his quill, gently tapped the excess off the tip, and poised his hand over the paper. "Who are we writing to today, Miss Argent?"
The Lady Katherine "Kate" Argent was a woman of good breeding – great breeding, actually. The Argent family had a strong, rich heritage going back several hundred years, and Kate never let anyone forget it. She held the title of Baroness of Goodwater, though she never proudly told anyone. Goodwater was a small county of no particular importance that she earned through business, not breeding, so she preferred to tout her father's title and introduce herself as The Lady Katherine, daughter of Argent, The Earl of Gévaudan.
She was a powerful, controlling blonde woman, who liked everything to go her way and was not afraid to use her family name to make sure things did. Stiles working for her was just one example of her abuse of power, because there was no chance he'd ever work for her without a fight otherwise.
She was short tempered, overly sexual, and had a skill for making people squirm. To her friends, she was a prized ally and good for protection in society, but to everyone else she was a promise of trouble. Maybe she wouldn't burn down your house or frame you for murder, but maybe she would. Stiles really wouldn't put it past her. He'd seen her sweetly threaten a younger woman into abandoning the love of her life, leaving the woman in a wreck of tears she couldn't recover from before leaving the house. He'd written letters of complaint for her that ended people's careers and, he suspected, were mostly filled with lies. And he'd listened to her talk about men and women of her acquaintance like dolls she could play with, her large mouth laughing at every scheme.
Stiles hated her.
"Address the letter to Mr. Derek Hale," Kate said from her lounging position. She sounded curt, as though the thought of the letter to come was unpleasant. Stiles hoped Derek Hale was a debt collector or something equally horrible, because he'd love to pen a letter for Kate Argent that was full of begging and apologies. "The salutation should be 'Dearest Derek', unless you can think of something sweeter."
So not a debt collector, then.
"And the contents?" Stiles asked, his fingers creating delicate, curved art out of the simple letters of Derek's name.
"I need to start a correspondence with him, so make sure you ask a few questions to ensure his response. But I also need to be charming. Today, with this letter, I'm going to woo the pants off that silly man once and for all." Kate smirked and let out one of her soft, but very evil, laughs. At least, Stiles always thought it sounded very evil – more than a regular level of evil. "We haven't seen each other in a few years, but I'm sure I left a lasting impression. Trust me. You lay on a little charm and he'll open right up for me."
Stiles began to scribble a few lines of his draft. "Why go through so much trouble for a man you haven't seen in years?"
"That's not your concern. Just write an exemplary letter, so we can get on with the seduction." Kate stood from her seat and began to pace. As she walked the room, she listed off things she knew about Derek to help Stiles get the letter right. "He's undeniably handsome. Oh, when I think of those little abs of his-" She made a sound that was both pleasure and pain, and Stiles wasn't sure what that meant for Derek Hale. "He's got a tight little ass, too, and green eyes to die for. Even when he was younger, he was delectable. I'm sure he's only gotten juicier with age."
"Exactly how long has it been since you've seen this guy?" Stiles asked, pausing to watch her movement across the room.
"Eight years? Ten? But trust me, I know Derek Hale, and he's the man I need. He'll fit nicely into this plan." Her voice lowered into a mumble by the time she finished speaking, and her hand cupped her own chin as she devolved into thought.
For his part, Stiles was stunned. Ten years? She was trying to woo a man she hadn't seen since she was Stiles' age? That was a long time ago, and she just expected him to still be single? If he was as handsome as she claimed, surely he would be married by now. Or at the very least, he would be beyond her wiles after such a long separation.
He cleared his throat, about to voice his thoughts, and she spun to face him. Her face wasn't angry, just blank, and suddenly Stiles remembered that his livelihood was held in her manicured hands. Maybe pointing out that he didn't think her plan would work wasn't the best course of action. A delicate eyebrow rose as she grew impatient to hear him speak.
He cleared his throat again. "Any… Anything not physical about him that I should know?" he asked, grasping at the first clear thought he had.
Now Kate raised both eyebrows, looking a little taken aback. "Not physical?" she asked. Confusion clouded her eyes for a moment, but she soon smiled like a devious kitten. "He's a little naïve. Butter him up and he'll believe just about anything you say. I used to trick him into believing lies about his sisters all the time."
"Family!" Stiles interrupted, a bit too loudly. "Tell me about his family." God, did Kate not know how to describe people beyond their looks and pliability?
Sighing in annoyance, Kate returned to the couch. "I suppose you want to know that he has both parents still alive. His father holds a title, like mine, but Derek does not. He is the oldest of five children, with… I believe it was three sisters and one brother. Or else two of each. Derek is set to inherit ninety percent of his father's property and wealth when the man dies, which makes Derek a very rich man. He will be the master of three counties, as well as controlling some foreign properties."
A bell rang out in another part of the house, and Kate jumped up from her seat. It was the call for breakfast, and it made Stiles realize how hungry he was. Kate turned and pointed a finger at him.
"Finish the letter. Then, and only then, can you come down to breakfast," she said. Stiles bit his tongue on a comeback that pointed out that they weren't upstairs so there was nowhere to 'come down' to. Instead he glowered at her, which seemed to please her. She smirked before striding from the room, shutting the door behind herself.
If Stiles went to breakfast anyway, she'd just tell the servants not to feed him. If he claimed he'd already finished writing, she'd want to see proof. The only thing to do now was to focus on writing. Sighing, Stiles tested the ink in his quill and then set about composing the letter for the mistress that he hated.
Dearest Derek Hale,
It has been far too many years since we last saw each other. I long to hear how your family is fairing these days. You may remember how fond I was of your darling sisters, always teasing them as if they were my own. I hope your parents are both in good health as well. The report around town is that your family is splendid, but you know as well as I do that gossip cannot always be trusted. I mean to have the account from the source, by which I mean from your lips, your hands alone. Tell me everything I have missed these past years. Goodness, it's almost a decade, if I'm remembering right. Far too long.
I expect you are just as handsome as when we were younger, and that you are no longer a single man. But if you do happen to find yourself unattached, count me a happy woman. I offer my services to assist you in finding your perfect match. Finding lovers is a special skill of mine, you know, and I would be glad to help you find yours. I miss you and your green eyes dearly. Please do me the honor of a quick response.
Fondly, Katherine Argent
