Page 10 of A Wicked Business (Wicked Sons #10)

Mr Knight,

I believe you might find the enclosed of interest.

―Excerpt of a letter from an anonymous source to Mr Felix Knight.

4 th August 1850, the offices of Knight Enterprises, Piccadilly, London.

“Mr Knight, sir!”

“Hmm?” Felix murmured, not looking up from the figures he was tallying.

He’d come across a new design for a kind of iron, one that was filled with hot coals rather than having to be set upon a fire to heat. It had never occurred to him to take an interest in something so domestic—after all, it was hardly something he was interested in—but upon speaking to his valet, it seemed an iron that stayed hot for longer would be a godsend. Before he went any further, he would need to do a survey among valets and lady’s maids, perhaps laundries too, to see if they would happily welcome something of the sort of if they would have misgivings or advice. Yet had that odd ticklish sensation in his belly that told him there was something here and he did not wish to be disturbed while he was totting up the costs involved in producing and marketing such an implement. It had been hard enough to concentrate these past weeks as thoughts of Belinda blasted Madox-Brown tormented at all hours of the day and night. He’d tried going out and about with the intention of finding himself a new mistress, but despite many invitations that inferred his attentions would be welcomed, he’d found he wasn’t the least bit interested in taking them up. The wretched woman was ruining his life.

“Sir, I beg your pardon, but this came in the post and—”

“See to it, Charles, whatever it is,” Felix said impatiently. “I’m really rather busy and—”

“But, sir!”

Felix sighed and looked up, alerted by the sudden note of urgency in Charles’ normally placid voice.

“Whatever is it? You look like you’ve swallowed a spider.”

Charles shoved a piece of paper at him and Felix took it, realising it was not a piece of paper but a small booklet. “His Grace and Disfavour, a novel of twelve parts,” he read aloud, and then groaned. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” Charles said, his voice climbing higher. “It’s Lady Belinda, sir. I’d lay my pension on it.”

“Where did you get this?” Felix demanded, scanning the first page in dismay.

“It came in the post addressed to you. I assumed it was another sales catalogue but there was no name attached to it.”

“Get me some coffee, Charles,” Felix said, sitting back in his chair with the chapter in hand. “Let me see just how much trouble the dreadful girl has got herself into.”

It didn’t take long. Before the end of the second page, Felix was laughing despite himself. The writer, whoever she was, had a fine turn of phrase and sense of the ridiculous and yet had drawn an accurate caricature of the Duke of Sefton that anyone who had read about him in the scandal sheets and seen in print-shop windows would recognise. The duke in this tale was carefully named the Duke of Graftonly, but like Sefton he was in his late sixties, with a shock of white hair, a short, fat neck attached to a corpulent figure bedecked with the extravagant fashion popular in his youth. His fingers glittered with jewels and his cut glass accent was usually employed in complaining or berating those he considered beneath him—which covered most of the population.

Charles came back in with the coffee and Felix wiped his eyes, setting the chapter down for a moment to look at his white-faced secretary. “It’s dreadfully good, isn’t it?” Charles said, his expression one of concern. “And rather terrible.”

“It is, drat her,” Felix agreed, accepting the coffee. He drank it while he finished the chapter and then laid the pamphlet down on his desk. “Well, she’s got the success she hoped for. This is going to fly off the shelves.”

“But could it cause her trouble?”

Felix reflected upon the work and shook his head. “Not because of what’s been written. It’s been well done. Anyone objecting to the work would have to admit they recognise the portrayal of themselves, and I think even Sefton isn’t stupid enough for that. But if anyone tells him who is responsible for printing it….” Felix shrugged.

Charles still looked unhappy.

“Why so Friday faced?” Felix asked.

“I don’t know, sir,” Charles admitted. “It’s only… well, Miss Bodrott and Lady Belinda seemed very close. I reckon if one were in trouble the other would feel it.”

“Yes, they certainly seemed as thick as inkle weavers,” Felix agreed, watching Charles with interest. “But why does that trouble you so? Charles, have you developed a tendre for Miss Bodrott?”

Charles’ previously blanched face segued to pink, and Felix had his answer.

“Have you seen her since our little shopping expedition?” Felix asked with interest.

Charles nodded. “Yes, accidentally,” he said in a rush. “I just happened to be passing when she was running an errand for Lady Belinda,” he added, looking a trifle defensive. “We spoke for a little while and I mentioned I might take a walk in the park later this afternoon, if… if she happened to be there.”

“Oh, you did, did you?” Felix said, amused. “And what did the lady have to say?”

“She said she might happen to be there too, and I should look out for her,” Charles replied, grinning sheepishly.

Felix stared at Charles, feeling suddenly protective of his secretary whom he knew very well was as green as they came. He’d lived a sheltered existence before he’d begun working for Felix, and even now, whilst living in town, had done nothing more exciting than take an occasional trip to the theatre.

“Do you think it wise to… to further your relationship with the young lady?” Felix asked, wincing a little at the sound of his own words.

“Whatever do you mean, sir?” Charles asked, perplexed.

Felix considered his words carefully and then decided he owed his secretary a bit of plain speaking. “She’s more than a little rough around the edges, Charles. You could do better.”

Charles stiffened, his expression darkening. “Miss Bodrott strikes me as a kind-hearted person, and I have never laughed nor felt so at ease in a woman’s company as I do in hers. She seems to like me too, just as I am. I have no desire to marry up, sir. It may be the way of things among the upper echelons of society, but I have no desire to make such a climb.”

“I beg your pardon if I have offended you Charles. I meant no insult to the lady. She is certainly an entertaining companion. I only ask you to think carefully. You have a bright future, but to further it you may need to attend dinners, even to entertain. A wife who can make that happen will be a great help to you.”

“I’m only taking her for a walk in the park, sir,” Charles said coolly. “But I shall consider your advice.”

Felix sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I’ve made a mull of that, have I not? It’s a good job I was never big brother to anyone. I’d have made a poor show of it.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Charles said, unbending somewhat. “At least you care enough to put your foot in it.”

Felix gave a bark of laughter at that and handed the provoking pamphlet back to Charles. “I’ll come with you for that little walk, if you don’t mind, Charles. I suspect Lady Belinda will be with your Miss Bodrott, and I think I owe it to my conscience to put my foot in it with her too.”

Charles grinned, shaking his head. “Taking your life in your hands trying to give advice in that quarter, I reckon, sir.”

“Undoubtedly, Charles, though have no fear, if the lady is not with Miss Bodrott, I shall make myself scarce,” Felix said, unable to suppress the thrum of anticipation that surged through him at the thought of crossing swords with Lady Belinda once more.

Though could not get the wretched woman out of his mind, he reasoned it was mere physical attraction and that he could handle. He was not the least bit green, unlike Charles, and knew how to deal with such emotions. No doubt seeing her in the harsh light of day would erase the overblown beauty that lived in his recent imaginings and nighttime fantasies. She was a beautiful woman, yes, but no goddess. Once he’d seen that he would be able to speak to her calmly without letting her provoke, arouse, or otherwise aggravate him. It was simply his carnal nature taking control of his wits, the natural desires of a man who found a woman attractive. If she’d been a widow or a different kind of woman, they could have scratched the itch that plagued them and had done with it. As it was, he simply needed to recognise that situation for what it was, remind himself that she was strictly off limits, and move on. Having had his fair share of liaisons, he felt certain he was up to the task.

He wondered idly if Lady Belinda had still not recognised what made them both so provoked with each other, if she had the slightest idea that when she stared up at him, the invitation in her eyes was hard to resist. Perhaps Doris had told her, he thought wryly. For unless he missed his guess, Miss Bodrott was as sharp as a tack and little escaped her notice.

4 th August 1850, Hyde Park, London.

“My lady? Lady Belinda. Belle!”

“What’s that?” Belinda jumped at her maid’s sudden shout and turned to Doris to see an expression of exasperation on her face.

“Got something on your mind, have you?” Doris asked wryly. “Honestly, I’ve been talking to myself ever since we left the house.”

“I beg your pardon,” Belinda replied with a sigh. Her head was aching after a sleepless night and her future was no clearer to her now after hours spent tossing and turning. A low rumble in the background threatened a summer storm, and the air felt heavy with the promise of thunder. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

Doris frowned, considering. “What, you mean about selling your jewels and going to live in Paris?”

“No!” Belinda sighed, shaking her head. “I have no desire to live in Paris. My French is adequate at best, and you don’t speak a word of it. I refuse to leave the world I am familiar with in order to escape Papa’s machinations. There must be a better way than that.”

“Well, if you hadn’t frightened off every suitor who got within arm’s reach of you, there might be more of a choice,” Doris replied frankly.

“Perhaps, but if I could frighten them off with such ease, what kind of husband would they have made? Certainly not the kind I could ever respect or rely upon,” Belinda said with a sigh. “No, I have decided that I shall do as you suggested and run away with Mr Knight.”

Doris stopped in her tracks, her eyes alight with astonishment. “That’s why you was on fire to come with me today! You think he’ll be with Mr Kirby.”

“Well, yes,” Belinda admitted. “It was your idea in the first place. You said I should run away with him, did you not?”

“I did,” Doris agreed. “But you discovered a little flaw in my plan, my lady, and you’ll excuse me for pointing it out as you did, but he ain’t asked you to run away with him.”

“He hasn’t asked, not ‘ain’t asked,’” Belinda corrected patiently.

“He hasn’t asked you,” Doris repeated carefully. “But whether he ain’t or he hasn’t, it don’t change the fact.”

“I know,” Belinda said with a sigh, glancing up at the stormy skies and wondering if they would manage their outing without getting caught in a downpour. “I shall have to think of a way to entice him into it. Do you think I could seduce him?” she asked Doris sceptically.

Doris gaped at her mistress.

“Well, you needn’t look so horrified. If it’s that unlikely a prospect, I shall have to shelve the whole idea,” Belinda said, stung by such a reaction.

“Oh, bless you, but you’re a goose at times, my lady. I was only shocked at you suggesting such a thing. Of course, you could seduce him. Bleedin’ hell—” Doris hesitated, noticing Belinda’s stern expression and edited her choice of words. “Gracious me , but if I looked like you, I’d have seduced a duke by now and that’s no joke.”

Despite her weariness and anxiety, Belinda laughed. “I think you could have done it too, Doris. You are far bolder than I,” she added sadly.

“What tosh,” Doris said, taking her arm and giving it a squeeze. “Look at you, running a print shop, and with a smashing success on your hands already. Miss Ludlow is beside herself, she is, and you did that. And think of all those clever set downs you give fellows who think to patronise you. You’re the bravest girl I know, and that’s the truth.”

“What should I do without you, Doris?” Belinda said, feeling her throat tighten at her maid’s fierce defence of her character.

“Probably get yourself in a deal less trouble,” Doris said. “I bet most ladies’ maids wouldn’t go along with all your naughtiness like I do.”

“No, indeed,” Belinda said, smiling at her. “You do know how grateful I am, don’t you, Doris? I… I do not think I could do any of it without you.”

“Now, now, don’t get maudlin,” Doris said sternly. “Keep your pecker up. Look, there’s Mr Kirby and see, you were right. Mr Knight is with him. Now look, if you can turn me into something ladylike enough to appeal to Mr Kirby, I reckon anything is possible. You go after that man and make him fall in love with you, or at least lustful enough to carry you off to Gretna Green!”

“Doris! Hush, they’ll hear you,” Belinda said in agitation. “And I did nothing of the sort. Mr Kirby was already smitten, and you know it. I’m only trying to make things easier for you both.”

“Well, I’ll make it easier for you now. I’m going to take Charles away and leave you to make up to your Knight in shining armour in peace. Get him to kiss you, my lamb. It’ll be easy after that,” Doris hissed, far too loudly as the men came upon them.

Belinda felt her cheeks burn and prayed Mr Knight hadn’t heard this advice but did her best to greet him calmly. It wasn’t easy. He looked splendidly handsome today, a vigorous presence that exuded masculinity. He had caught the sun during his time in the countryside and his handsome face was tanned, his green eyes an even more startling shade against the warmer tone of his skin. As usual, he was beautifully dressed, his suit tailored to perfectly enhance a figure that was strong and athletic. He moved with grace, but the electric sensation of restrained power thrummed around him. The air always felt charged in his presence, as if something dramatic or extraordinary was bound to happen, simply because he was there.

Thoughts of him had plagued Belinda since their last meeting and Doris’ insistence that he actually felt something for her had her all on edge. She wondered if she could tell if he desired her from the way he looked at her and found herself gazing at him rather too intently.

“Are you quite well, my lady?” he enquired, staring down at her in consternation. “Or is there something stuck in my teeth?”

“I beg your pardon,” she muttered, suddenly embarrassed and wishing she’d not come after all. She had forgotten how provoking he could be and how her feelings swerved from admiration to frustration in a heartbeat with his rather forthright way of speaking. Yet she knew she did the same thing to him too. Patience was required on her part. She needed time to understand this exciting, intriguing man and what drove him, but not only was patience something she found difficult to find, but time was not on her side.

“I must congratulate you, it seems,” he said, offering her his arm. “A greater success would be hard to find for your first foray into publishing.”

Belinda struggled to muster a smile, too anxious to relax and admit she was proud of the achievement. She found herself leaning heavily on his arm and had the overwhelming desire to confide in him. He was the kind of man who would never be intimidated by her, not even when she was at her worst and acting like a spoiled brat, which she knew she was more than capable of doing when the mood took her. She thought that was why she appreciated Doris so much, because she needed someone brave to remind her when she was being awful. Her father had never been around nor cared to do so, and never having had a mother, Belinda knew she lacked some of the gentler emotions and the ability to empathise those around her. Her nanny and governess had been kind, but not up to reprimanding a wilful child when they were not her kin but in her father’s pay. Felix though, he was forthright, but not unkind and she could trust in a man like that. He would not back down if she set out to provoke him. But she did not think he would bully her either and force his ideas on her. He had listened to her opinions and not belittled them as many men would have.

“My lady? Is there something amiss?”

It took her a moment to realise he was speaking to her and, to her dismay, the concern in his expression made her throat tighten and her eyes fill with tears.

“Belinda?” he said, his voice a low whisper as he paused, reaching for her hand. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Belinda shivered, astonished all over again by the sensations that raced over her skin at the mere touch of his hand. It was at once thrilling and steadying, enticing her to believe the man before her was not only the most exciting she had ever known, but one in whom she could put her trust. Hearing him speak her name so intimately made her feel suddenly as if she had known him forever, and the sensation filled her with such hope she threw caution to the wind. She knew her money was of no interest to him, for his father was one of the wealthiest men in the country, so it would matter little to him if she were disinherited. But perhaps her title could help him open doors that might take more work to get through without a well-bred wife to ease the way.

“Would… Would you like to marry me, Mr Knight?” she blurted out, before her brain could catch up with her mouth and consider what she was doing.

He dropped her hand as if she’d scalded him.

“What?” he asked, looking so appalled she knew she had made the most dreadful mistake. If she had been in any doubt, his next words clarified things. “Good God, no!”

For a moment Belinda was so shocked by his violent reaction she could only stare at him. Then her throat tightened, and she realised she would cry if she did not get away from him at once. Gathering what remained of her dignity, she put up her chin. “I beg your pardon. Please forget I said anything. Good day to you, Mr Knight.”

With that, she began walking briskly away, praying she could get out of the park without weeping and making an even bigger spectacle of herself. Lord above, what had she been thinking to just blurt out a marriage proposal like that? No wonder the poor man had looked so horrified. She hadn’t meant to say it at all, had only meant to see if he would like to kiss her, as Doris had instructed but no, her stupid mouth had overridden her brain, not for the first time, and she’d had to crash in like a bull in a china shop and smash any possibility of escaping her father’s plans to smithereens. Now he’d think her a bold chit, as if he didn’t already, and want nothing to do with her.

“Lady Belinda, wait!”

Mr Knight appeared at her elbow and took hold of her arm, slowing her hectic pace.

“I apologise, my lady, for my dreadful rudeness, but… but you took me by surprise, to say the least.”

Belinda shook her head, trying to tug free, determined to get away from him. He clearly did not think of her with the kind of admiration she had hoped for and now she felt like a fool.

“Lady Belinda, please… be still for a moment. Belinda! Stop running off. Whatever is wrong with you?”

“I beg your pardon, Mr Knight, I seem to have taken leave of my senses. Please let me go,” she said urgently, but he refused to release her.

“My lady, calm yourself,” he said, his deep voice gentle. “It’s obvious you are distressed. Indeed, I now fear you are in the greatest of peril for I cannot think what else would induce you to make someone so unworthy of your hand such a generous offer.”

He smiled at her, and with such understanding she could not refuse the invitation to unburden herself. She could at least consider him a friend, if nothing else… couldn't she?

“Not peril, exactly,” she managed, but then her bottom lip trembled, and she looked away from him before she cried.

“Come,” he said, steering her towards a small copse of trees, glancing around to ensure they were not observed.

Belinda followed him under the gloomy canopy. The air had that strange silent quality that often preceded a summer storm and yet she felt it was he that provoked it, he that made her skin prickle with awareness, he that made the birds fall quiet as her heart thundered loud enough to predict an answering bolt of lightning. Her already low spirits sank further at the realisation that her regard for him was quite one-sided. He clearly experienced none of the excitement she felt around him, nor the sense of being in the presence of someone vitally important to one’s happiness.

Likely the feelings he’d alluded to, the ones that made him impatient and short with her, were closer kin to those he might have towards a comely opera dancer or highflyer.

“Tell me,” he said, taking hold of her shoulders in a firm grip. “What is it that has you looking so hollow-eyed and weary, and handing out marriage proposals to any strange fellow who happens to be near?”

“Why, Mr Knight, you charmer, you,” she said, not beyond seeing the amusement in the situation. “What lady would not wish to unburden themselves when you have such a delicacy of touch? Hollow-eyed and weary, indeed! Just how I prefer to be described, and I took such pains to look pretty this morning.”

“Stow it,” he said impatiently, though amusement warmed his green eyes. “You don’t care for flattery any more than I do, and you must know there’s not a woman in the country who can hold a candle to you. You’re a great beauty, my lady. There, does it please your aggravating little heart to hear me say so? Well then, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, but that does not change the facts. You look like you’ve not slept and you’re on the verge of tears. So, tell me before I am forced to shake it out of you. What the devil has happened? Has your father discovered you are behind that blasted story already?”

Belinda gave a startled laugh, finding herself pleased indeed by his words, and not even a little dismayed by the violence of their delivery. Well, perhaps she ranked a little higher than a comely opera dancer, after all.

“No, no, he has no idea. I am not so hopeless as to be found out that easily. No, it is worse than that. I overheard my father speaking, and he intends to have me married off. There is to be an announcement in the papers on the twelfth of August. Perhaps on that day I might discover to whom I am betrothed as well, for he has not confided the information to me,” she added bitterly.

“Married?” His voice was hard, abruptly urgent, and filled with surprise.

“Apparently so,” Belinda replied with a sigh, putting her fingers to her throbbing temples. Lord, but she was tired. She stared at the broad expanse of his chest, at the beautifully tailored coat and fine waistcoat that covered it and imagined leaning into him, putting her head there and allowing him to support her when she felt suddenly so weak. The urge to do so was so tantalising she found herself swaying towards him.

“But you’re of age, are you not?”

Belinda nodded, only half attending the conversation. She could detect the faint aroma of clean, starched linen, and thought perhaps the lemony scent of what might be shaving soap. Such an intimate detail as the scent of his skin warmed her and she held it close to her heart, a forbidden secret that she could take out and remember when he was far from her.

“I am,” she said absently, discreetly trying to take a deeper breath, to breathe him in. “And I have money enough, for my mother left her fortune to me, but you do not know my father. If I stay, he will manipulate and coerce me and make me agree. He’s ruthless, Mr Knight, and he will begin by isolating me.”

The truth of these words brought her back to the moment and misery overwhelmed her once again.

“He’ll dismiss Miss Bodrott?” Mr Knight guessed, his expression one of concern.

Belinda nodded bleakly. “I have said nothing to her as yet, but it is what I fear the most. Perhaps you think it odd, but she is not only my maid, but she is also my dearest friend. I do not make friends with other young ladies easily, Mr Knight, being rather too outspoken and bold, as you have perhaps noticed. Doris does not care about that, for she is more outspoken and bolder by far and I adore her. So you see, I must get away from him before he can imprison me in that dreadful house until I am desperate enough to do as he wishes. But there is nowhere I can go, where I can hide, where he could not find me and drag me home.”

“That’s not true. I’m sure I could think of something, a place where you could live and—”

“And do what?” she asked in frustration. “I cannot hide forever. I am Lady Belinda Madox-Brown, and I refuse to conceal my existence for the rest of my life. I have plans, things I wish to do, wish to achieve, and I cannot do that if I spend my days in hiding, waiting for him to die.”

He stared at her, a mixture of admiration and annoyance glittering in his eyes. Belinda smiled. She knew she vexed him. No doubt he wished she was as biddable and easily looked after as most of the other debutantes he knew. But if that were the case, she would not be so determined to defy her father.

“It’s all right, Mr Knight. I do not need you to act as your name suggests. I will find my own way out of this fix, just you see if I don’t.”

4 th August 1850, Hyde Park, London.

“Wait.”

Belinda had already turned away from him, but before she could take two steps, he reached for her, holding her back. A mistake , shouted a panicked voice in his head . Let her go!

Felix stared at the beautiful yet aggravating woman before him. His heart was thudding, like he’d been fighting or running for his life, and all he was doing was speaking with Lady Belinda. He wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go at the same time as he wished he could just leave her to deal with the problem by herself and not worry about her. How she had this effect on him, he did not know. He only knew he didn’t like it. Yet he could not simply let her walk away, out of his life. The idea of marrying her was appalling. He did not want to change his life and the idea of fitting Lady Belinda into it filled him with dread. They hardly knew each other, and he felt certain she would drive him distracted, yet the idea of letting her go off and marry some other fool was even worse and he feared it might send him mad. Perhaps he was halfway there already.

Felix drew in a breath, staring down at her. “How? How will you find a way out? If you won’t run, what will you do?” he demanded, hoping she had some sensible solution to present him with. He had admired her wit and her intelligence from the beginning, so surely she had a clever plan to thwart the earl.

“Find someone to marry me before my father can,” she said with a shrug. “There are any number of men who wish to; certainly there are plenty of fortune hunters in the world. It can’t be terribly hard to track one of them down.”

Felix stared at her, wondering if he’d heard correctly. That was not at all what he had hoped she would say.

“A fortune hunter?” he repeated, horrified. “Are you out of your tiny mind?”

“No,” she said, looking calmer than she had all morning, the maddening creature. “Not in the least. They need my money, I need their name. It will be a simple exchange, a business arrangement. I have a little experience with those now. Perhaps your Mr Sampson could draw up a contract for me,” she added thoughtfully.

“The devil he will!” Felix said savagely, and she looked up at him in surprise. Truthfully, his own surprise was far greater than hers. His mouth seemed to spill out words before his brain had the chance to catch up. He really needed to stop talking before he said something that would get him into more trouble than he was prepared for. “You are not to go marrying some damned fortune hunter, do I make myself clear?”

Apparently, neither his mouth nor his brain had got the message.

Anger flickered in her eyes, and he knew he’d taken entirely the wrong tack, but the blasted woman made him crazy.

“Oh, perfectly. You want no part in my life, but you expect me to do as I’m told because you are Mr Knight, who knows everything and is never wrong. Why, yes, of course, sir. Why on earth would I not do exactly as you tell me?”

“Because you are hell bent on sending me to Bedlam,” Felix said, exasperated. Why could she not just do as he asked for five minutes so he had time to think? “I don’t mean to tell you how to live your life, Belinda, I only ask you to wait a little. To consider and—”

“Wait a little?” she retorted, glaring at him. “My father is going to announce my betrothal on the twelfth of August! And I did not give you leave to address me by my given name,” she added hotly.

Felix ignored this last, suspecting she cared as little for such niceties as he did. She was only cross and looking to tear him off a strip. “I know there isn’t long, but a woman can cry off an engagement with no shame attached. Stop this pell mell dash into the unknown, will you? There’s no need for it, just stop and think for once in your life instead of rushing headlong into another mad decision and going off half cocked.”

“I never go off half cocked,” she shot back at him, looking adorably indignant. Her blue eyes blazed and vexation coloured her cheeks and, in that moment, she was so damned lovely that he could not remain cross with her, so he laughed. Why, he could not say, except that her beautiful face was lit up with temper and she had been so drawn and weary when he first saw her today. It was such a relief to see her fly up into the boughs when she’d been so despondent earlier and, fool that he was, it made his heart lift too.

“What is funny, drat you?” she demanded, glaring at him, but Felix couldn’t answer.

He could hardly tell her that the dark blue walking dress she was wearing made the anger in her eyes burn all the brighter, that the way the gown fitted snugly around her slender waist made his fingers itch with the desire to reach for her, or that running away to Gretna with her did not seem such a terrible idea when she was standing there, hands on her hips, furious with him and looking more gorgeous than he had ever seen her before. He wondered if she had any idea how hard it was to keep his hands off her when she looked at him with such blatant admiration, when her body swayed towards his as though tugged by some magnetic force. Did she really think he hadn’t noticed? Did she think he didn’t feel it too? So instead, he laughed all the harder, and for reasons neither of them understood, she laughed too.

Suddenly they were both laughing like fools until Belinda took a shuddering breath and subsided, gazing up at him with a look in her eyes he could not mistake. There it was again, desire and longing writ large in her eyes, a vulnerable need to be held and told everything would be all right. Strong as she was, she hungered for someone of equal strength to bolster her and shore her up when she was feeling weak and weary. She wanted it to be him, he knew it, and the knowledge ate away at him.

Don’t do it, counselled a frantic voice in the back of his head. Give her your arm, nice and quiet, and escort her back to Doris .

You know it makes sense.

He did. He knew it was the sensible thing, the correct thing to do. They were both overwrought, both had tempers that rubbed the other up the wrong way. They were both headstrong and passionate and… oh, God, there was no help for it.

Felix hauled her into his arms and kissed her.