Page 11 of A Wicked Business

A very ungentlemanly thought entered his mind at her words and images of the kind of things he would enjoy getting her assistance with and he slammed the door on the unsettling thoughts with all speed. Lady Belinda was trouble, he reminded himself, and he was going to avoid it, and her, at all costs. He was not fool enough to get mixed up with a woman who would bring him more complications than he knew what to do with.

“There is no debt,” he assured her instead, before giving her a polite bow, bidding goodbye to the redoubtable Miss Bodrott, and taking his leave.

6th July 1850, Hosier Lane, City of London.

“Now there’s a fine-looking man,” Doris said with a sigh, making no bones about ogling Mr Knight as he walked away.

“Doris!” Belinda exclaimed, tugging at the dreadful woman’s arm. “Stop gawking at him and get in the carriage before people see us.”

Doris pulled a face but did as she was told. “Well, there ain’t no harm in lookin’ is there?”

“There is if anyone recognises me here,” Belinda replied, though her tone softened as Doris looked immediately contrite.

“Beg your pardon, my lady. I didn’t think. Still, he copped a good eyeful of you, did you notice?”

“No? Whatever do you mean?” Belinda asked, deciphering this to understand that Mr Knight had been staring at her. The thought made her feel oddly galvanised, her heart fluttering.

“I mean, when you was tucking into that sticky willy.”

“Doris!”

“What? That’s what they’re called,” Doris protested, throwing up her hands. “Well, anyway. He was gazing at you like a starving man staring at a bit of cheese.”

Belinda pulled a face. “Could you not have said a piece of cake? I dislike being compared to dairy products. It’s not in the least flattering.”

“Fine, he was staring at you like you was a cream éclair.”

“Better,” Belinda agreed with a nod, rather pleased with this notion, as foolish as it was.

To know Mr Knight looked at her with admiration seemed rather extraordinary. She felt sure he wished to disapprove of her because of her father and the antagonism between their families. Knowing that he admired her despite his better judgement was somehow rather thrilling. Still, finding her attractive and wanting to have the least thing to do with her were rather different things.

“I’m sure you must be mistaken, he can’t stand the sight of me. Surely, you’ve realised that. Mr Knight cannot wait to be out of my company, and he makes no bones about showing it.”

Doris snorted and shook her head. “You are the daftest creature. Sometimes I forget how innocent you are with all that book learnin’ you have and the clever things you say, but you’ve not the slightest idea about men, have you? Poor little love,” she said with fond exasperation.

Belinda frowned at this, disliking feeling ignorant, though she knew Doris was likely right. She had not the least experience with men outside of the socially sanctioned polite interactions acceptable at balls and her father’s dull dinner parties. “Well, what am I missing then, o great oracle?” she demanded.

“Here, there’s no need to be rude,” Doris objected, crossing her arms across her impressive bosom.

“No, it wasn’t an insult, the Oracle was the High Priestess of Delphi and… oh, never mind that. Tell me!” Belinda exclaimed in impatience.

Doris just rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing to tell, except for the fact that man fancies you. You’ve got under his skin, I reckon. He’ll have an itch he can’t scratch now, and it’ll drive him half mad if I don’t miss my guess.”

Belinda stared at her in surprise and then felt her lips tug upwards, a delightful warm sensation flooding her veins. “Really?” she asked, a little shyly.

“Yes, really, and he looks like just the sort of fellow a girl could have a good bit of fun with,” Doris said with a grin. “If I were in your position, I’d make it my business to find out if that were true.”

Belinda stared at her maid for a long moment, and then the two of them burst out laughing.