Page 18 of A Wicked Business (Wicked Sons #10)

Scenes of a terrifying nature were played out at London Bridge Station this afternoon as a madman with a gun ran amok through the crowd.

Mr Felix Knight, son of the great industrialist Mr Gabriel Knight, heroically tackled the man to the ground and disarmed him. Unfortunately —

―Excerpt of an article from the London Evening Star.

7 th August 1850, Keston House, Grosvenor Square, London.

The heart-stopping crack of a gunshot echoed around them, piercing even the sound of people screaming and the usual cacophony to be found at any train station.

Gabriel Knight was escorting Belinda towards the exit, for she really was feeling shaky and faint now after her ordeal. The dreadful noise chased away any frailty, however, and Belinda screamed.

“Felix!”

Pushing out of the arms holding her, she picked up her skirts and ran, but his father was quicker, unhindered by heavy petticoats as she was.

“Felix!” he exclaimed, fear in his voice as they both saw Felix laying prone on the floor, covered in blood.

Flint was getting up, staggering to his feet, pistol still in hand but Belinda was too terrified to pay him any mind. She fell to her knees beside Felix, as his father did likewise.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he replied, though his face was chalk white. “It only grazed my arm. Not serious,” he bit out, yet he was clearly in a good deal of pain.

“Oh, no you don’t you, wicked blighter!” Doris said, advancing on Flint.

She delivered him a punch that had him stumbling backwards. His nose, already bleeding from Belinda’s strike, took the brunt of it but he was wild now, eyes wide with panic, knowing at the very least prison awaited, if not the hangman’s noose for abducting a peer’s daughter.

“Get out of my way, bitch,” he cursed, giving her a hard shove.

Doris fell heavily, sprawling in a flurry of skirts. A shout of rage rang out and Charles Kirby ran at Flint, delivering a series of fast, powerful jabs. Flint went down, out cold on the pavement.

“Doris! Sweetheart, did the blackguard hurt you?” Charles ran to his beloved who looked at him with her heart in her eyes.

“Oh, Charlie,” she said, the words full of admiration as Charles Kirby seemed to glow in the light of her pride in him.

“Felix, are you sure you’re all right?” Belinda asked, running her hands over him. She was aware of the gathering crowd and the impropriety of what she was doing but cared about neither.

Felix caught her hand and lifted it to his mouth. “I’m well, love. I promise.” His gaze darkened as he saw the bruising on her face. “He did that?”

Belinda nodded and squeezed his fingers. “I’m fine too, my darling. I promise you. No more than a bruise.”

Felix gritted his teeth, looking like he wanted another go at Mr Flint but, before he could move, a shadow fell over them. Belinda looked up to see her father staring down at Felix, his expression unreadable.

“Young man, you saved my life,” he said, his voice not entirely steady. “That bullet hit the carriage instead of me. Why? Why did you risk yourself for me, your enemy?”

Felix let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m not your enemy and neither is my father. We’re just living our lives and doing what we do, and I saved your life because I could, because it was the right thing to do, and because your daughter loves you despite the fact, you’ve never appreciated or deserved how wonderful she is.”

Keston sucked in a sharp breath and nodded, but he looked ill with shock and fatigue. To Belinda’s relief, Doris bustled forward.

“Come now, my lord. Back into the carriage with you. We’ll get you home and fetch you a nice cup of tea with a tot of brandy in it. That’ll see you right, you’ll see.”

The earl did as he was told, apparently putty in Doris’ capable hands, as Charles looked on with pride shining in his eyes.

“Isn’t she magnificent?” he said happily.

“She is,” Felix agreed, smothering a groan as his father helped him to his feet. “But I’d watch yourself, Charlie, old man. She’s got a terrific right hook. Which, by the way, it seems you do too.”

Charlie grinned and hurried into the carriage to chaperone his lady.

Gabriel Knight took charge of the situation, dealing with having Flint carted away, and in a short time they were in one of the station’s private carriages, being taken back to Grosvenor Square. Felix peeled off his coat and his father tore the ruined sleeve so Belinda could contrive a makeshift bandage. Before she did so, Gabriel fished out a small silver flask and poured some of the contents over the wound, which Belinda was relieved to see was quite small, if ragged and angry.

Felix gnashed his teeth and muttered under his breath but, in Belinda’s opinion, endured quite heroically as she tied the bandage in place.

“My men have Flint securely confined in one of the station’s offices,” said Gabriel Knight, “but I left word that the police could contact us at home, so we’ll no doubt have visitors soon enough. I’m afraid there will be a scandal,” he added, looking between Belinda and Felix.

“No, there won’t,” Felix replied placidly. “Nothing to speak of, anyway, for we’ll be married before the end of the week.”

He turned his gaze upon Belinda, who blushed.

“B-But you wanted more time! You did not wish to rush into—” she said, appalled that circumstances compelled him to do the honourable thing.

“The devil take me for a fool,” he said in disgust, using his good arm to pull her closer. “I might have lost you today. I’m not taking any chances. I want every minute of every hour of your time, every day, and week and month. Every year. I’m never going to let you out of my sight again.” Belinda laughed, a little overcome, especially by the fact he had declared himself before his father. Her overworked emotions began to crumble, and she found herself laughing and crying at once.

“You’ll get nothing done!” she protested.

“Oh, I don’t know, my father seems to manage it,” he said, smirking at the man.

Gabriel Knight laughed and nodded, looking smug.

“Indeed,” he said. “I do.”

Her father, to her surprise, kept the police away from her for two full days, until he deemed her fully recovered. According to Doris, the earl had hovered outside Belinda’s door like a mother hen, enquiring after her health at intervals. He’d bothered their cook, demanding broth and jellies and any other sickroom fare be made for her to tempt her appetite. Happily, cook ignored this on Doris’s instruction and sent up rather more robust offerings more to Belinda’s taste.

More astonishingly, he had allowed Felix to send flowers and notes to his betrothed without a word of complaint, and for Belinda to write back.

Belinda was a little dismayed to discover how tired she was and slept for hours. Nightmares plagued her a little; once she woke and almost slapped Doris, whom she mistook for Mr Flint.

However, after a good rest and being reassured by Doris that Charles had visited Felix and found him in excellent spirits, and having been stuffed like a Christmas turkey on the increasingly hearty plates of food that kept arriving at her door, she felt her old self again. As she made her way down the stairs, her heart gave a flutter of excitement for Felix had told her he would call upon her this afternoon.

She decided to wait for him in the library. She had always found it the most restful and comfortable room in the great mausoleum her father called home.

As Belinda entered the room, it startled her to see the earl standing at the window. He rarely left his study at this time of day if he was home.

“Good afternoon, Papa,” she said as he turned to look at her.

“Belinda,” he said, an odd note to his voice that she could not read. He did not move, just stood and stared at her.

“I am quite well,” she said reassuringly, looking at him with concern. He looked older and, though the haggard grey look had left him, his expression was still careworn.

“I owe you an apology.” He spoke stiffly, standing up straighter, as though he were before a firing squad and determined to behave with courage. “That young man of yours was right, I’m afraid. I have not appreciated the good fortune bestowed upon me. You have been a wonderful daughter, and… and I have failed you. I sought to use you for my own ends and in doing so I... I nearly—”

“Oh, Papa!” Belinda ran to him and took his hands.

She had thought many times how gratifying it would be to see her father brought low, to see him realise what he might have had if he had only cared for her a little. But now, to see the proud man so diminished squeezed her heart. She did not wish to see him crushed, only to have a little humility and understanding for others, and perhaps, at last, he had learned that much.

“Papa, I do not care about that past, only let us go forward as friends now. Let me be a part of your life as you have never let me before.”

He nodded and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. She could not remember her father ever having embraced her so before. A lump rose in her throat, and she hugged him back.

“Papa,” she said on a sob.

“Stop that now,” he said, his voice stern but laced with humour. “I refuse to weep before you, but I shall if you keep on.”

Belinda laughed a little, as she was meant to, but as she looked up into his austere face, she knew she must not allow him to think she would carry on doing his bidding, just because he was kinder to her.

“Papa. I am going to marry Felix Knight,” she told him, watching his reaction with her heart thudding behind her ribs.

He let out a deep sigh and nodded. “It seems a crime to let a prize like Ashburton slip through your fingers but… but I accept your decision. I have made enough of your life unhappy, Belinda. I will not be responsible for ruining your future. Besides, it seems I owe the fellow my life. It would be rather ungrateful of me to refuse, in the circumstances.”

“Indeed, it would,” Belinda said firmly, taking her father’s arm. “Does that mean you will give me away, Papa? I believe Lady Helena is working like fury to arrange a lovely wedding for us.”

“I’ll be there, and I’ll be the proudest father that ever was, Belinda. You’re a fine young woman. Your mother would be so proud of you.”

Belinda smiled, blinking back tears as she leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Papa.”

“This time tomorrow, we’ll be married.”

Belinda’s heart gave a little skip of anticipation at Felix’s words as they walked in the gardens of her father’s house.

“I can hardly believe it,” she said, shaking her head. “And Papa is giving me away! It seems like a dream to me.”

“I know. He called upon my father yesterday and the two of them had a civil conversation. Can you imagine? I have to admit I waited outside my father’s office door for a good half an hour, certain there would be an eruption, but none came. I even heard laughter!”

They both shook their heads at this bizarre turn of events.

“I visited Miss Ludlow yesterday. I was so relieved to discover she was unharmed. The poor woman was only concerned at having let me down! As if I would think it. However, we have agreed that we need security and I’ve given her leave to employ whomever she thinks best to see to her safety.”

“A wise idea. Heaven alone knows what trouble you will conjure up next,” Felix remarked with a laugh.

“Women’s suffrage,” she said promptly. “It is high time it was debated in Parliament, and, through the print shop, I have the means to voice the opinions of women and make public the dreadful circumstances thousands endure every day. I was actually considering beginning a Saint-Simonian newspaper, in the style of La Femme Libre in France,which is published and written exclusively by women.”

Felix gazed down at her, a smile on his lips, his green eyes shining. “That sounds a wonderful idea, and you are remarkable woman who is certainly capable of doing so. I shall be proud to help you in whatever way I may.”

“You don’t mind?” she asked, hardly daring to believe his words.

“If you stop short of inciting riot and revolution, no,” he replied.

Belinda grinned at him. “Well, I’ll try,” she said, as if this were a great sacrifice.

“You are going to give me heart failure, aren’t you?” he said fondly.

Belinda shrugged. “Not intentionally,” she replied, a little aggrieved, but he only laughed and pulled her into his arms.

“Felix, not here! Papa will see!”

“I don’t care,” he retorted, and kissed her until she believed him.