Page 15 of A Wicked Business (Wicked Sons #10)

Dear Miss Bodrott,

I beg you will forgive me for writing to you when I know I ought not, but I had such a wonderful time in your company. Might I beg to know when I can see you again? I shall be at the British Museum this Saturday afternoon and would be delighted to see you there if it is not too presumptuous of me to suggest it. I shall wait in the Elgin Saloon, at 2.30 pm.

In anticipation.

―Excerpt of a letter from Mr Charles Kirby to Miss Doris Bodrott.

5 th August 1850, Montagu House, St James’s, London.

The heavens had opened once more, so Ashburton arranged for his carriage to convey Felix, Belinda, and Doris to Grosvenor Square. Belinda found herself suddenly shy as Felix closed the carriage door and Montagu House was left behind them. She sat beside Doris, who had closed her eyes, sleepy after all the excitement and running around she’d done today… not to mention the brandy. Doris began to snore softly, just audible over the rain drumming on the carriage roof, and Belinda looked at her with fond amusement.

“I can see why you think so much of her. She’d move heaven and earth to see you happy,” Felix said with a smile.

“I know it,” Belinda replied softly, finding herself blushing as she met his gaze. She told herself to stop behaving like a ninny before he decided all his misgivings were worth heeding and called things off. Instead, she studied him with the same intense regard he was giving her. She wished she knew what he was thinking, but he seemed a mystery, though one she was excited to unravel. Belinda had never met a man she found so intriguing, who surprised her and challenged her without belittling her or assuming she was a featherbrain who ought not to make decisions more challenging than what kind of hat to wear.

She studied his face. Upon first meeting him, she had admired him but thought his harsh features made him seem intractable. She knew now that he could be, but also that he could admit he was wrong and even apologise for his behaviour. His green eyes, which had captured her from the start, were warm now and full of amusement. Her heart skipped a little as he smiled, a slow, sensuous curve of his lips that gave her the sensation of being too hot and rather flustered.

“Well, now we’ve done it,” he said, the deep timbre of his voice giving her shivers. Belinda rather wished poor Doris had walked home instead of accompanying them.

“We have,” she agreed, smiling at him a little uncertainly. “I know you have misgivings—”

He snorted and she gave him an impatient look.

“And you don’t?” he replied, amused, but then reached across the carriage, taking her hand. “We’re not going to be the sort who live peacefully with never a cross word, are we love? But then, I don’t think that’s what makes a good marriage. My parents have the most frightful rows on occasion, but I have never doubted the depths of their love and respect for each other. They have differing opinions on a whole range of topics, but the thing is that they can discuss them openly, even if tempers flare now and then.”

Belinda gazed down at the strong fingers clasping hers with a rush of happiness. She squeezed his hand tightly. “I would do nothing to disrespect you, or to cause you embarrassment, but I do have strong opinions, Felix,” she said, savouring the intimacy of using his giving name. “And I don’t want to give up my print shop,” she said, looking up at him with a touch of defiance, wondering if this might be the first cause of strife between them.

To her relief, Felix just laughed and sat back. “You don’t say,” he replied dryly. “Heavens, what a shock.”

Belinda let out a breath and smiled at him. “You are an extraordinary man, you know.”

Felix shook his head. “Not me. I’ve been given every advantage that wealth can provide and I’m just trying to do my best not to disappoint. My father is the extraordinary one. Can you imagine the kind of poverty he was born into, existing in the workhouse where just staying alive was the hardest thing to do? And yet he began by trading a bit of bread for a bit of cheese, by finding things that people wanted and needed and trading those things. He found a better supplier of bread to the workhouse, cheaper and better quality and his cut of the deal gave him his first bit of working capital. Within a year, he’d replaced most of their usual suppliers, getting better, fresher food for less money and taking his own cut from each deal.” Felix shook his head in wonder.

“But you are said to be a prodigy too, are you not?” Belinda smiled at him, realising she had been correct in thinking him carrying something of a burden with the towering figure of his father to emulate. “It seems to me hardly a week goes by without some story in the paper in which you have secured some deal or begun some new enterprise. I have followed your career, Felix, and my admiration for you is quite genuine. Don’t sell yourself short.”

He opened his mouth in surprise and then smiled, a tinge of colour cresting his cheeks and pleasure in his eyes, and she knew she was right. “You’ve followed my career?” he repeated.

Belinda nodded. “For some time now. Why else do you think I contacted you.”

“To thumb your nose at your father,” he said with a laugh.”

“No. Because I was desperate to know you, foolish man,” she told him, the words soft with everything she felt for him.

“Well, you got your own way as usual, my lady,” he replied, chuckling. “And now we must admit all to my father, so I hope you’re happy!”

“You feel a little trapped in his shadow, don’t you?” Belinda said with sympathy.

“No, I—” Felix began, looking a little indignant, but then he let out a breath. “I suppose, but how could I not? I know of no better man. He’s a financial genius, driven and still full of ambition. Not for money, you understand, but to create more. Bigger. To succeed in everything he does and to create jobs and make people’s lives better. It’s a lot to live up to and sometimes it can feel rather overwhelming.”

“Does he drive you hard?” Belinda asked, understanding on some level what it was to have a parent who expected perfection.

Felix laughed. “Yes, and no. The thing is, he still has the restless energy of a man half his age and so he doesn’t see that the rest of us mere mortals can get a bit weary. But I don’t mind that. I relish the challenges he sets me, and the pride in his eyes when I succeed is worth every late night and missed party. But sometimes I fear I will never live up to his expectations and that he is only being kind when he praises my efforts.”

“I do not know your father, but I know you, Felix, and I promise you that no father could have a finer son to take pride in.”

“I live in terror of letting him down,” he admitted softly.

Belinda considered his words, a sinking feeling in her heart. “He’s not going to like this, is he? You marrying me, I mean.”

Felix didn’t answer, which was answer enough, but after a while he turned, smiling at her.

“You are an extraordinary girl, and my father is no fool. He’ll see what I see, and all will be well. I promise you. You cannot be held responsible for your father’s actions, and it won’t take him long to admit that.”

Belinda knew he could promise nothing of the sort, but she believed he was sincere, and the knowledge was reassuring.

“Doris is a wonderful woman, but I wish her elsewhere,” he added, leaning down to whisper against her ear.

Belinda shivered, her heart giving an excited little thud behind her ribs. She gazed up at him as he lowered his mouth, pressing it to hers. Her breath caught, the flare of delighted wonder just as strong and exhilarating as before, and regret coursed through her as he pulled back.

“Well, there’s a reason in favour of rushing to the altar,” he said with a grin before glancing out of the window. With a sigh, he ran an agitated hand through his hair. “We’re here.”

Belinda woke the still snoring Doris and took Felix’s hand as she stepped down from the carriage. Her heart was suddenly racing, her palms damp within her gloves as she realised she must face Lady Helena, and possibly Gabriel Knight too. Belinda had never considered herself a shrinking violet and prided herself on being able to navigate any social situation with calm dignity, but at that moment, she wanted to turn tail and scramble back into the carriage.

Gathering her courage, she pasted a smile to her face as Felix brought the knocker down on the front door with two loud strikes. He returned her smile and took her hand, his long fingers curving around hers, and suddenly she felt stronger, more able to confront whatever his parents threw at them.

“This is the easy bit, love. My mother is going to love you, don’t worry,” he predicted, giving her hand a squeeze as the door swung open.

They were shown into a large, elegant hallway where the butler took Belinda and Doris’ cloaks and bonnets.

“There’s no need to announce me,” Felix told the butler, who nodded. “But perhaps you might take Miss Bodrott to the kitchens and make her comfortable whilst she waits for her mistress.”

“Certainly, sir,” the butler said, gesturing for Doris to follow him.

Doris sent Belinda an encouraging smile and held up her hands, showing crossed fingers.

Belinda smiled and watched Doris disappear downstairs before Felix took her hand once more.

“Come along,” he said.

Belinda followed him, gazing around at an enormous property that was every bit as grand as her father’s, but somehow felt entirely different. This was a home, not just a showpiece for the owner’s wealth. Oh, there were just as many priceless artworks, paintings and sculptures and rugs, but they had been displayed with care and were clearly meant to be enjoyed, to be a part of the warmth and welcome the house provided, not merely exhibits to impress.

As Felix led her to a large oak door and swung it open, they heard a woman’s soft laugh, and then a louder bark of laughter as they entered the room.

Though it was August, the thunderstorm of the previous day was still rumbling around, and rain fell from a leaden sky. The temperature had plummeted, and Belinda was hardly surprised to see the fire flickering in the grate taking the chill off the large room and making it warm and cosy.

Lady Helena was sitting by the fire in a large wingback armchair, her shoes kicked off and her legs tucked up under her skirts. To Belinda’s mingled delight and consternation, she held the latest chapter of His Grace and Disfavour in one hand, and a cup of tea in the other.

The lady gave another cackle of laughter and then looked up in surprise.

“Felix! You wicked boy, why did you not tell me you were coming?” she asked, setting her cup and the book down and swinging her legs to the floor. Her keen eyes, the same extraordinary green as her son’s, took them in, resting briefly on their clasped hands.

“Well, come in, my dears. I shall call for a fresh pot of tea and some cake. It’s such a dismal day and cake always makes things better, don’t you think?” She came over to Belinda and held out her hand. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Lady Belinda. I have often thought it a great bit of nonsense that you live just across the square from us and yet we have never met. I’m glad to remedy the situation.”

“As am I, my lady,” Belinda said, relieved by the warmth of her welcome and a little awed by Lady Helena, who in her mid-fifties was still a stunning and wonderfully elegant woman, even having been caught unawares by her son.

“Please sit down,” Helena said, ushering them to a comfortable-looking settee before sitting down herself. She perched on the edge of her seat, her green eyes alight with curiosity as she looked expectantly at her son. “Do hurry up, Felix. Tell me everything, before I burst.”

Felix laughed and raised the hand that held Belinda’s, resting it upon his knee. “We’re engaged, Mama.”

“Oh!” She surged to her feet and rushed over to Felix, who stood as she hugged him tightly. “I knew it! I knew there was someone. Didn’t I say so?”

“You did,” Felix replied ruefully. “As ever, you know far more about me than I do myself.”

“Well, of course I do, I’m your mama! Now, Belinda, my dear—may I call you Belinda? — come here. Let me look at you properly.”

Belinda nodded and laughed, allowing Lady Helena to turn her in a circle. “Goodness, what a beauty. Well done, Felix! And I know you are not one of those silly chits who agree with every daft thing a man says, for I have heard tell you are a forthright young woman.”

“I’m afraid I am,” Belinda said, noticing Lady Helena's delighted eyes and feeling, for once, that this might not be seen as such a crime.

“Nothing to be afraid of. Not in this house. I can’t be doing with a meek little say-nothing mouse. That would do Felix here no good at all. He needs a woman who can stand up to him and tell him when he’s being an idiot.”

“Oh, she’ll do that, I promise, Mama,” Felix said dryly. “She’s already put in a fair bit of practice.”

“Excellent!” Helena clapped her hands together and hurried to the bell pull. “Never mind the tea, this calls for champagne.”

Once this had been ordered and all of them supplied with sparkling glasses of wine and a delicious selection of pastries, both savoury and sweet, the three of them toasted to Felix and Belinda’s futures.

“Now, then,” Helena said, popping a sweet tart into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “We shall need to be careful how we handle your father, my dear.”

“Do you think you can handle him?” Felix asked with some trepidation.

His mother sent him a scathing look. “When have I ever not done so?” she asked scornfully, before giving Belinda a reassuring smile. “Don’t look so frightened, my dear. Gabe is all bark and no bite, and it isn’t you in the least he will object to, not really. But your papa—” She sighed and shook her head.

“Believe me, Lady Helena, you do not need to explain to me,” Belinda said quietly. “My father’s opinions are not my own, and I can only condemn the things he has said and done and beg your forgiveness on his behalf.”

Lady Helena waved this away. “His forgiveness is not for you to ask for, nor his opinions for you to pay for, and do call me Helena, Belinda dear, or do you prefer Belle?”

“Belle would be perfect, if you do not mind it?”

“Belle it is,” Helena replied, before remarking. “However, call me Helle at your peril.”

She then went off into peals of laughter over her own witticism. Felix rolled his eyes, but Belinda found herself utterly charmed and vastly relieved to discover his mama so easy to like.

“So, what do you think is the best approach to take with Father?” Felix asked, looking a little pale.

Belinda hoped he was not already regretting their betrothal.

“Oh, a direct one, I should think. He cannot abide secrecy and, if he thinks I’m trying to manage him, he’ll get cross. Of course, I manage him constantly, but he doesn’t mind, so long as it isn’t too obvious,” Helena said, helping herself to another pastry and encouraging Belinda to do the same.

“The thing is, Mama, we need to keep it a secret for the time being. At least until we are married and Keston can’t stick his oar in. Ashburton is helping us. He’s going to pretend to be engaged to Belinda until the deed is done, to give us a bit of breathing space.”

“Oh dear,” Helena said with a sigh. “I might have known it would be complicated. I suppose that means I can’t arrange a beautiful wedding?”

“Not unless you can do it without telling anyone,” Felix replied with a shrug.

“Guests tend to need to know they are invited dear, but I take your point. Nevermind, I shall view it as a challenge,” the imperturbable lady said with a smile and then her expression faltered. “Lud. That sounded like the front door. I didn’t expect your father home for hours yet. Isn’t that just like the contrary devil to take me by surprise on such a day!” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet and running from the room.

Belinda clutched at Felix’s hand, suddenly feeling rather ill. “Felix,” she said, hoping for reassurance, but Felix looked a little green too.

He held onto her hand, though, giving it a bracing squeeze as he got to his feet. “Stand up to him, Belinda, my love. I know you can. He’s really not such a dragon. He just bellows a lot, and he’ll admire you for it, I promise.”

They heard footsteps approaching the door and Belinda held her breath as snatches of conversation reached them.

“Well, that’s so sweet of you, darling, and the flowers are gorgeous. Thank you. But we cannot take a little, er… lie down just at present, for we have guests. No, I didn’t expect them either... No, we can’t get rid of them. Oh, Gabe… stop…. No, stop that, I mean it. We must greet them, for I have the most delightful news.”

Helena rushed back into the room, a little flustered, with her hair somewhat disarranged, and her husband stalked into the room after her, looking impatient to get rid of whoever had come to disturb his peace.

“What news?” he asked gruffly, and then his eyes settled on Felix and Belinda. He frowned, noticing their clasped hands. “Devil take it,” he muttered, glaring at Felix.

“Sir, I beg you will hear me out before you say another word,” Felix said, his voice firm.

“What’s there to say?” his father demanded. “I suppose you’ve proposed, and she’s accepted. Well, what do you want me to do about it? You’re a man grown and you must make your bed, but if that bas—”

“Gabe! Ladies present,” Helena scolded him.

Gabriel Knight checked himself with obvious effort. “If that devil causes me even more trouble because you’ve wed his daughter, I’ll wring your blasted neck! Do you know he’s the only man left blackballing us from joining Whites? The only bloody one!” he said in obvious frustration. “I’ve been trying to gain entry for decades and Keston alone is keeping me, and now you, out. I could murder him.”

Belinda winced. Denying such a wealthy and successful man entry to the exclusive club was a terrible thing to do. It must rankle Gabriel Knight dreadfully, but to discover her own father was the reason he could not join was mortifying.

“Gabe!” Helena said furiously, before Felix could utter a word in his own defence. Belinda suspected this was fortunate, as he looked as if he had a good deal to say. Happily, Helena did not allow him to speak, but carried on, quite impassioned. “Do you remember how my brother made us both feel when you asked for my hand in marriage? Do you not remember how humiliated you were by his rejection, how miserable we both were? Your son has fallen in love with a delightful girl who has the misfortune of having a dreadful father. Don’t make Felix and your new daughter wretched by making that their fault.”

Gabriel Knight sent his wife a look of sheer exasperation and then threw up his hands. “I need a drink,” he growled, and stalked over to the tantalus on the sideboard. He poured himself a large measure and downed it before pouring another. He turned then and sighed.

“Anyone else?” he offered gruffly.

“Yes!” three voices replied, and he snorted, pouring out the glasses before noticing the champagne on the table. “I see you started without me,” he remarked, giving his wife an impenetrable look that might have been amusement or irritation.

“We needed some liquid courage before facing you,” Helena said, accepting the drink he offered her.

“I’m not that terrifying and don’t make out that you think I am. You know very well you rule the roost, you vexatious creature,” he grumbled.

Helena laughed and patted his arm reassuringly. “True. Now, darling, do stop barking at everyone and sit down.”

Gabe handed Felix and Belinda their drinks and did as he was told. “Well, my lady, you’ve got courage, I’ll give you that,” he said to Belinda, not unkindly.

“One must need it to survive in my father’s household and not lose one’s wits,” she replied, feeling somewhat steadier now it appeared the storm had passed. Looking at Gabriel Knight, she saw the resemblance to his son in their rather harsh features, the strong, stubborn jaw, and most of all the electric energy that seemed to roll off them both. She doubted this was a man who liked to sit still for very long. Many would find that exhausting, but she found it invigorating after a life that had been dull and so very confining.

“Hmmm.” Gabriel looked at her, his piercing gaze so intense she felt he might be able to see inside her head. It was an unnerving thought. “What interests you, Lady Belinda?”

Belinda was so surprised by such a question, for a moment she just gaped at him, before she gathered herself. “Many things, sir. For one, I have a great interest in rights for women. I hope to make some small contribution to the cause via my new business. I own a print shop, you see. Actually, that’s one of my first projects there,” she added with no little pride, gesturing to the chapter Lady Helena had been reading.

“This?” Helena snatched it up, looking at her in delight. “You wrote this?”

“Oh, no! I cannot take the credit for writing it,” Belinda said, shaking her head. “The author is a woman of remarkable talent, but she prefers to remain anonymous.”

“I bet she does,” Gabriel remarked with a smirk. “Sefton would murder her if he had the slightest idea who she was.”

“Well, yes,” Belinda agreed, aware the duke would not be too friendly to her either if he discovered her part in it. “But I bought the publishing rights and… and it’s been a tremendous success,” she added, putting up her chin. She wondered if Gabriel Knight might be like the rest of the ton and believe a woman had no place in business, despite his unusual origins. To her relief, curiosity flickered in his eyes.

“How big a success?” he demanded. “What was your print run?”

For the next few minutes, Gabriel fired questions at her about the number of sales, growing circulation, about subscriptions, the price of individual chapters, dates of publication and her intention to publish a leather-bound copy of the complete story in time for Christmas. At first, Belinda believed he was trying to rattle her, but as the questions continued, she realised he was genuinely interested, especially when he realised she could hold her own and not become flustered by his interrogating manner. When he was done, her brain felt as if it needed a lie down in a dark room, but Gabriel Knight was looking at her with something approaching respect and she felt pleased at having acquitted herself so well.

He took a small notebook from his pocket and scratched away with a pencil for a few minutes before tearing it off a page and handing it to her. “I suspect that’s your projected profit,” he said.

Belinda looked at the scrawled figures, which were barely legible, but to her astonishment discovered his figures closely resembled those she had calculated with all the precise costs and financial details before her.

She nodded, a little stunned.

“It is,” she said, aware that it was in very bad taste for him to discuss business with her, and worse still, to discuss money , of all things, and delighting in every second of it. Her father would have an apoplexy if he knew. Yet this self-made man spoke to her as an equal, as a woman with her own ambitions and the brains to make a success of it. It was rather thrilling when so many men spoke to her as if she were a pretty ninny.

“A nice little business,” Gabriel said, an arrested look in his eyes. “Of course, to maximise your profits, you ought to make a deal with a paper mill. As it happens, I have an interest in—”

“Oh, good Lord, now there’s three of you!” Helena wailed in mock despair. “Can’t I have a daughter-in-law who likes hats, and shopping, and reading books!” she said, laughing and putting her head in her hands.

Belinda laughed too, a little disappointed not to discover what Gabriel had to say next, but finding herself far more at ease with them both than she could have dared imagine. “Well, I do like all of those things too, I promise you.”

“Never mind hats, we were just getting to the interesting bit,” Gabe objected.

Helena hushed him and he sighed.

“Well, Belinda, I suppose we will just have to share you. What do you think, Gabe? I, for one, think she’ll make a splendid daughter-in-law,” Helena said, reaching out to take her husband’s hand.

He lifted it to his lips before setting it back in her lap and getting to his feet. Moving towards Belinda, he held out his hand, and she stood and took it, looking at him warily.

“Do you think me a guttersnipe? A half-bred, jumped-up mushroom?” he asked, his tone serious, though Belinda was relieved to see something like amusement in his eyes.

“Certainly not!” she said hotly. “I see every reason your son holds you in the greatest of esteem and wishes to make you proud. I should be proud to call you my father-in-law, too, and that is something I have never felt for my own flesh and blood.”

Gabriel smiled at her words, his eyes warm. His expression put her forcibly in mind of his handsome son.

“Welcome to the family, my dear. You’re one of us now, heaven help you.”