Page 6 of A Wicked Business (Wicked Sons #10)

Dearest Felix,

I am writing to tell you that you became an uncle again on the 1 st of July. My beautiful new daughter is called Sophronia, though she will be Sophie in the family. She is the image of her father and so will undoubtedly be the most beautiful creature that ever lived! I hope you will come and visit her soon.

How are you, little brother? A little bird told me you are squiring that dreadful creature Norbury about town. Say it isn’t true! And you used to have such good taste. Surely you can do better than that and is it not about time you found yourself a nice young lady and settled down? My children will all be grown if you do not hurry up.

Louis sends his best wishes to you.

Write back for once, please, you horrid fellow.

With much love from your devoted sister.

―Excerpt of a letter from the Comtesse de Villen, Evie de Montluc to her brother, Mr Felix Knight.

8 th July 1850, the offices of Knight Enterprises, Piccadilly, London.

Felix got to his feet and walked to the window, carrying the cup of coffee his secretary had just provided him. He was in his waistcoat, his shirtsleeves rolled up, having long dispensed with his coat. He wished he could remove his waistcoat and undo his cravat too, but he did not think he could stand another moment sitting at the huge oak desk and sweating over correspondence. He needed to get outside and get some air, so stripping off was not an option. Dictating letters and reading the ever-increasing stack that always seemed to pile his desk was the kind of work he disliked the most, necessary but tedious. He’d far rather be out and about, dealing with people, negotiating deals and investigating new opportunities. However, his father had insisted from the start that he understand and become adept at every aspect of Knight Enterprises, and if his father wanted something, Felix obliged him.

Despite himself, he found his thoughts drifting and settling upon Lady Belinda Madox-Brown. He knew Mr Sampson had been as good as his word and done all they had wanted. The lady now owned her print shop. The memory of the sound of her laughter seemed to echo in his mind at odd moments, like a snatch of lovely music that one could not get out of one's head. He found her intriguing, her sincere desire to help Miss Ludlow showing a side to her character that he admired as much as he did her beauty. To have discovered her both intelligent and witty had completed the picture of a complicated and fascinating woman he was all too eager to know more about. Though he knew better than to act upon it, he had thought about calling upon her, using the need to reassure himself all had gone smoothly with the sale as an excuse. The desire to see her again was like a mosquito bite. If he ignored it, he would be fine in a few days. If he scratched it, he’d want to scratch it again and again until it drove him mad, and he drew blood. Not a very flattering description for a beautiful woman, perhaps, but he suspected it was accurate.

Despite himself, Felix felt a tremor of unease as he wondered what her father would do when he discovered what she had done, or if she published something dreadfully scandalous and the ton found her out. Lady Belinda struck him as the kind of woman who was not easily cowed, nor thwarted, but he could not help but worry for her. He told himself he was being ridiculous and took a sip of his coffee. Grimacing, he set the cup back on his desk. It was a day for ices, not for hot coffee. The thought made him smile. It was only a five-minute walk from the offices to Gunter’s on Berkeley Square.

“Charles!”

“Yes, sir?”

At his bellow, Felix’s secretary stuck his head around the door. He was a slender fellow with flyaway hair of an indeterminate shade of brown, and large round spectacles which gave him an owlish appearance. He was a few years Felix’s senior and had been an absolute godsend. Loyal, hardworking, and far more patient than his boss, he kept Felix sane and did not let him forget appointments or obligations, or names.

“Fetch your coat, we’re going to Gunter’s.”

“Gunter’s, sir?” Charles repeated blankly. “Do we have business there?”

“No, we’re going for ices,” Felix told him, shrugging on his coat.

Charles still looked perplexed.

Felix sighed. “We’re taking the afternoon off, Charles. It’s too damn hot to spend another second in this office. Don’t look so shocked, it’s only an ice, not an opium den. I’m not leading you astray or running mad, just melting in this infernal heat.”

Charles laughed at that, pushing his spectacles back up his nose. “Well, you’re the boss, sir, so I suppose I can come along. If you’re sure?”

Felix sent him an impatient glare which had Charles disappearing at speed and returning a moment later, shrugging his coat on.

They strolled in companionable silence to Berkeley Square, with Felix nodding greetings to those other brave souls who had not abandoned the city in favour of the more agreeable climate, not to mention smell, of the countryside.

“I might need to take a trip to Sussex in the next few weeks,” Felix said as they walked along Bruton Street.

“Oh, the comtesse? How is she?” Charles asked. He had taken quite a shine to Evie when she had visited their offices last year. Felix suspected he had developed a tendre for her and always asked after her.

“She’s been delivered of another healthy girl. Sophronia. I’ll be needing a gift to take…”

“I’ll see to it,” Charles said at once, nodding. “A silver rattle perhaps?”

Felix pulled a face. “Don’t ask me. I’ve not the foggiest. Whatever you think is appropriate.”

“Perhaps I should buy the comtesse something too, as she did all the hard work,” Charles suggested.

Felix laughed at that. “Very true, and Evie does love presents.”

“The latest novel?” Charles asked, his expression thoughtful. “I believe you have mentioned how much she loves to read.”

Felix nodded. “That would be perfect, and something sweet to eat whilst reading it. She adores marzipan fruits, that much I do know.”

“A splendid idea,” Charles replied. “Consider it done.”

“I do,” Felix remarked with a grin as they crossed the road towards Gunter’s. The place was packed, and it took them some time to queue up and make their order. Felix chose three flavours: white coffee, chocolate and maple. Charles was more circumspect and contended himself with two scoops of vanilla, which Felix thought dull but paid for without protest.

They wandered the square, eating their ices, until a familiar voice hailed him.

Felix turned in a circle until he located the voice, hardly surprised to see Cat. The daughter of a marquess and wife of another could be so badly behaved as to shout across a crowd with no fear for her reputation, unlike other, lesser females.

Felix sighed and raised his hand and then felt a jolt of recognition as he noticed the other occupants of the carriage. An odd feeling surged through him upon recognising Lady Belinda. The practical side of his nature told him he ought to pretend an urgent appointment and leave as quickly as he could, but every atom of the rest of him was drawn towards her as if she were reeling him in on a line. It was not a pleasant realisation and yet he found he did not wish to fight it.

“You remember how you wished to meet Lady Belinda,” Felix asked Charles, depositing his empty ice cream cup on a table set up for the purpose.

“Well, I was interested in meeting such a driven young woman,” Charles admitted with a nod. “It’s rare for one of her class to wish to do such things, you must admit.”

Felix gestured to the carriage. “Perhaps, but now’s your chance, though I must warn you, Charles, her maid is a little… unconventional.”

Charles did not have time to query this statement as they were drawing near so simply nodded his understanding.

“Cat, I cannot seem to escape you these days. Aren’t you desperate to leave the city yet?”

“When you are so delighted by my company, certainly not,” Cat replied tartly, making him laugh.

“Lady Belinda, Miss Bodrott,” he carried on politely. “How are you enjoying Gunter’s?”

“Very much, I thank you,” Lady Belinda replied with a smile.

“Lady Kilbane, Lady Belinda, Miss Bodrott, may I introduce my secretary, Mr Charles Kirby?”

The ladies nodded their agreement, apart from Miss Bodrott, who was staring at Charles with obvious interest, so Felix did not think she minded the introduction either.

“Charles, may I present The Marchioness of Kilbane, Lady Belinda Madox-Brown and Miss Doris Bodrott?”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Charles said with a nervous smile, bowing and blushing a little as he noticed Miss Bodrott’s intent perusal of his person.

The maid then shifted closer to her mistress and whispered something to her that made Lady Belinda smile. Poor Charles blushed harder.

“Miss Bodrott is curious to know what a secretary does, Mr Kirby,” she told Charles.

“Oh, well, many things,” Charles said. “Keeping records, of course, keeping Mr Knight’s diary, writing letters and reading such correspondence as Mr Knight has no time for, dealing with clients where necessary, as well as more mundane tasks… like keeping the coffee coming when Mr Knight is working late,” he said modestly. “Purchasing things when the need arises,” he added as an afterthought.

“What sort of things?” Miss Bodrott asked with interest.

“Oh.” Charles turned a brighter shade of red, which Felix thought was interesting. “Well, that depends,” he said, casting an uncertain look at Felix.

“Don’t give away my secrets, Charles,” Felix murmured wryly.

“Oh, Felix, you’re not the kind who gets his secretary to buy presents, are you?” Cat said in disgust. “Not really?”

“Well, no,” Felix began, feeling guilty all at once. “Well, sometimes, yes,” he admitted, shrugging. He could not tell a barefaced lie in front of Charles after just having asked him to do just that.

“I’m sure Mr Knight is a busy man and has little time for shopping,” Lady Belinda said, giving Cat a fierce look that told her to pack it in.

“Thank you, my lady,” he said, surprised at her coming to his rescue. “I’m afraid that is exactly it. Also, I find giving presents rather complicated. Especially as my sisters and my mother are so adept at finding something they know I’ll love. I’m afraid it is not one of my talents, whereas Charles is a genius,” he added, slapping Charles on the back.

“What was the last gift you bought, Mr Kirby?” Miss Bodrott asked.

Charles looked suddenly panic-stricken, and Felix remembered then his last gift had been bought that very morning. A parting present for Mrs Norbury after their disastrous trip to the theatre. By the end of the night, Felix could not imagine what he’d been thinking about getting involved with her and had not needed the disapproving words Evie had written to bring him to his senses. He refused to accept that the decision had any connection with the woman before him, though. It has been a mistake, that was all, and now it was over. However, as the affair had been so brief, he did not wish to cause the lady any embarrassment and so had been more than generous with his present. Felix was not looking forward to giving it to her later that same day, but he did not believe in putting off unpleasant tasks and he would never be such a coward as not to sever the connection in person. He did not believe Charles wished to reveal his last purchase had been an emerald bracelet worth a small fortune for his soon to be ex-mistress, however.

“He is actually on a buying expedition with me this very day, as I have requested his help and advice,” he cut in before Charles wilted under Miss Bodrott’s keen gaze. “I had news from Evie today. A daughter arrived on the first of the month. Sophronia.”

“Oh, how darling!” Cat exclaimed with delight. “Why, then I must also buy a present for the babe too. Why do we not all go for a shopping trip to Regent Street together? Then we can all help each other,” she suggested, giving Felix a challenging look that dared him to think of a reason why not.

As Regent Street was a bare two-minute walk away, and he had already told them he and Charles were shopping for his niece, he had very little option.

“We should be delighted to escort you,” he said, inclining his head in agreement, for what else could he do? Felix told himself that spending time with Lady Belinda was nothing special and to just get it over with. His body had other ideas, however, and every inch of his skin seemed to prickle with awareness at having her near. What the devil was wrong with him, getting himself all het up over such a woman? That she could disrupt his equilibrium with such ease made him irritated, both with himself and with her. He needed to get another mistress with all haste before he got himself into trouble.

The last thing he wanted was to get entangled with a woman of her class, an unmarried woman who would expect to be marched up the aisle if he so much as stole a kiss. Not to mention a woman whose father would hunt him down and shoot him before he set one foot in the direction of a church. No, trouble of that kind he could definitely do without. His priorities lay elsewhere, and his focus was to make a success of himself, to make his father proud. He could never match Gabriel Knight’s achievements no matter what he did, but at least he might prove to his father that the vast empire he had built from nothing would be left in safe hands.

Felix handed Cat and then Lady Belinda from the carriage, leaving Charles to see to Miss Bodrott.

“I’m dreadfully sorry,” Lady Belinda told him in an undertone as she stepped down.

He looked at her enquiringly and she returned an apologetic smile.

“It is perfectly obvious you do not wish to shop with us,” she explained in her usual frank manner.

Felix frowned, a little annoyed that she found him so transparent when he’d believed even Cat had not detected the depths of his irritation at being coerced into shopping with them.

“It is?” he asked, realising he sounded rather aloof, the words colder than he had intended.

Lady Belinda released his hand, her smile fading. “If it was not, it is now,” she replied, sweeping past him to take Cat’s arm.

Felix bit back a curse. What was it about the woman that made him act like a complete arse? Shaking his head, he resolved to do better. He turned to glance back at Charles, who had a wide-eyed look of something between panic and startled delight at finding Miss Bodrott had taken his arm. He was gazing up at her with every appearance of hero worship. Felix smiled, wondering if the poor fellow had any idea what he was playing with. Charles had not had the pleasure of hearing Miss Bodrott’s rather invigorating conversation yet, and the woman not only stood half a head taller than Charles but probably outweighed him by several stone. Not that this was difficult, as Felix would have been astonished if Charles weighed more than six stone dripping wet. He always feared he did not eat enough. From the way Miss Bodrott was studying Charles, he wondered if she was thinking the same thing.

They strolled down the exclusive shopping street, which still seemed busy despite the exodus of those fashionable people who had already escaped the heat. Richly dressed footmen lingered outside shops, awaiting their masters and mistresses, chatting and exchanging gossip. Cat and Lady Belinda stopped to peruse a display of stunning silk shawls, the colours enough to catch even his eye and make him pause to contemplate the intricate embroidery. There was one in a shade of cobalt blue with yellow and green silk flowers worked upon it that he could at once imagine gracing Lady Belinda’s lovely shoulders. He watched her surreptitiously as she contemplated the exquisite silk, surprised when she moved along without going inside.

They walked on, past lamp posts where dealers sold terrier, poodle and spaniel pups, obliged to stop at each so the ladies might pet the adorable bundles of fluff. Along the kerbside, vendors of stain cleaning pastes and suspicious looking bottles of tonics hawked their wares, and an Italian boy turned a barrel organ, singing along in a sweet falsetto. The delicious scents from a pastry shop had them all gravitating to the big glass window despite having just eaten ices and they spent a pleasant moment contemplating a lavish display of cakes and bonbons and jellies arranged around clever barley sugar cases.

“Ain’t it splendid,” Miss Bodrott said, gazing at the delicious arrangement of goodies with a happy sigh. “Oh, and they got Turkish Delight too. I adore Turkish Delight,” she said wistfully.

“I was thinking of buying some liquorice,” Charles said, suddenly breaking out from the stunned silence that seemed to have held him in thrall since the moment Miss Bodrott had taken his arm. “I should be happy to buy you some Turkish Delight, if you would allow it?”

“Oh, why Mr Kirby, how kind you are,” Miss Bodrott said, beaming at him.

Felix noticed how the smile softened her somewhat harsh features and made the lady’s eyes sparkle. Charles had obviously noticed too, for the poor fellow looked rather dumbstruck. Felix wondered if Charles had much experience with women and decided he might need to take him aside and have a word. Love at first sight was all well and good, supposing that was the emotion he was experiencing, but he did not wish to see the indomitable Miss Bodrott trample his secretary’s heart.

Felix glanced at Lady Belinda, unsurprised to see she was also watching the interplay between the two with interest and concern. He offered her a smile, but she turned away without returning the expression. She walked off a little way, looking in the next window. Jullien’s shop sold musical instruments and sheet music, and Lady Belinda studied the display of the latest music on offer.

“Do you play?” he asked, gesturing to the window.

“Piano,” she said with a nod. “Though not with any great skill. I am adequate at most ladylike pursuits but excel at none of them.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Felix replied with a smile, endeavouring to make amends for having been so obviously unfriendly. It wasn’t that he did not want to be friends, or to spend time in her company, it was only that her company had all his nerves leaping with delighted excitement and his gut telling him he was heading for trouble. He had learned to listen to his instincts, but when they sent him such mixed messages, he felt all at sea and very much on his guard. “You seem to me the kind of lady who is determined to excel at all she does.”

“Do I, indeed?” she replied, turning to look at him, her expression unreadable. “How very unpleasant I sound.”

“Oh, come on,” Felix protested, stung by her antagonism when he’d been trying to make amends, no matter how clumsily. “If you are going to take every word I say amiss, this is going to be a very long afternoon.”

She shrugged, apparently indifferent. “Then please do not let us detain you. I’m certain the admirable Mr Kirby is quite aware of your tastes. I believe we will survive the loss of your company.”

Felix gaped at her, startled by her sudden hostility and finding his own hackles rising in response. “Look, I’m sorry if I seemed less than eager to be in your presence, but your family isn’t exactly fond of mine and that’s hard to forget.”

“My father,” Lady Belinda said crisply, her blue eyes fixed upon him. “My father despises you, Mr Knight, you and your father and everything you both stand for. I, however, am not the Earl of Keston, something I feel compelled to point out, as you seem to have failed to notice that for yourself.”

“Oh, I noticed,” he said bitterly, before he could think better of it.

Lady Belinda gasped and turned on the spot, stalking away from him.

“Wait!” he said in alarm, not wanting her to rush off heedlessly without an escort. “Wait, my lady. I beg your pardon, but you must realise that, at least, was not an insult.”

She slowed, turning to look at him over her shoulder and he hurried to stand beside her, putting his hand on her arm to halt her completely.

“I’m sorry,” he said, meaning it, before dropping his hand. Touching her seemed a bad idea, or at least, it seemed like an excellent idea, but one that would land him in water so hot he’d be boiled alive before he had to concern himself with drowning. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I cannot seem to keep a civil tongue in my head when I am in your company. It’s… actually, it’s rather vexing.”

“I’m rather vexing, you mean,” she said, but she was smiling a little this time, her expression rueful.

He stared at her, wishing the expression was not so beguiling, wishing she didn’t turn him inside out and make him wonder what it was he really wanted.

“No more than I am to you.”

“True,” she admitted, which made him laugh.

“Look,” he said, gesturing across the street to where a silversmith’s shop was visible. “Do you care to come and find a suitable gift for my new niece? I’m afraid Cat was quite correct, drat her. I am the kind of gentleman who gets his secretary to buy gifts for him. It’s not because I can’t be bothered, though finding time can be difficult, but I’m afraid I’m just not very good at it.”

“That is mere humbuggery,” Lady Belinda said firmly but not unkindly.

“Oh, no!” Felix protested, determined to be acquitted on this front if no other. “Before Charles, there were years of embarrassment as my sisters and my mother tried to find polite things to say when I had very clearly chosen ill.”

“Oh, I do not doubt your ability to muck it up, Mr Knight,” Lady Belinda said soothingly. “I only mean to say that there is a knack to buying presents which you must learn.”

“Why, you little wretch!” he replied, staring at her in frank admiration. “I never heard anyone be as rude as you are to me under the guise of giving polite advice.”

“That too is a knack,” she admitted, though her eyes sparkled with such obvious relish he knew she was enjoying herself as much as he was. Felix gave a bark of laughter and shook his head, holding out his arm to her. Trouble she might be, but it seemed he was unable to resist.

“Come, my Lady Caustic, teach me your dark arts.”

She laughed then, that low, breathy sound he’d heard once before, and did such strange things to his equilibrium. He stared at her, noticing with delight the solitary dimple peeking out in her cheek. “Very well, Mr Acerbic, but you had best learn your lesson well. I have no patience for slow tops.”

“You astonish me,” Felix replied, yet the words came out softer than he’d meant, and their eyes locked until a flush of colour tinged her cheeks.

“The silversmith’s, Mr Knight,” she reminded him, shaking him out of the deep dive he seemed to have taken into the endless blue of her eyes.

Idiot, he told himself soundly and escorted her across the street.