Page 12 of A Wicked Business

Chapter 4

My Lady,

It is with pleasure that I forward to you the deeds to the Print Shop at Number 2 Hosier Lane and the contract drawn up between you and Miss Ludlow. Please rest assured I remain at your disposal should you have need of me.

―Excerpt of a letter from Mr John Sampson, Lawyer, to The Lady Belinda Madox-Brown.

8th July 1850, The Adelphi Theatre, The Strand, London.

Belinda fanned herself, too aware of a bead of sweat trickling down her back. The theatre was not as packed as it might have been, any member of the ton with any sense having abandoned the city for their country estates. Belinda thought longingly of their own estate, of the cool little brook where she had caught minnows as a child, and the apple orchard where she liked to take a blanket and a book. On a day like this she would be sprawled under the branches of a fruit tree in her oldest gown, reading happily, knowing she could go to bed with her windows wide open and the scent of the cool night air filling her room. Instead, she was crammed into one of her finest dresses, laden with jewels and breathing in the scent of too much perfume and too little soap.

Though she tried her best to concentrate on the performance of Genevieve or The Reign of Terror, her thoughts seemed as slow as treacle and she felt certain her brain was melting in the excessive heat. Beside her, her father seemed unaffected by the temperature, though she wished he wouldn’t snore so loudly, for it was terribly distracting and made people glance their way in annoyance. His companion, Mr Haversham, a man of perhaps thirty years of age and heir to a viscountcy once his father passed on, had spent far more of his time staring at Belinda’s cleavage than he had at the stage. As her father was sound asleep and in no danger of remarking her behaviour, Belinda returned her frostiest glare as his gaze drifted from her mouth to her décolletage once more, and back again and she applied her fan with increasing vigour. She determined to smack him with it if he had the temerity to take the empty seat beside her where Mrs Symmonds, a friend of her papa’s, had been sitting until a few moments ago when the intermission began. Having seen someone she knew and simply had to speak to, the lady had rushed from the box before Belinda could escape with her.

A rustle from behind her had Belinda turning in her seat, assuming the lady had returned, but to her delight, instead she discovered her friend, Lady Kilbane.

“Cat!” she exclaimed with delight, surging to her feet and rushing to embrace her friend.

“Oh, don’t touch me!” Cat exclaimed, pulling a face. “It’s too hot.”

Belinda laughed. “I know. It’s horrid. I wish we were anywhere but here.”

Hesitating, Belinda knew she ought to introduce Mr Haversham, though Lady Kilbane would hardly thank her. Respectable he might be, but also a crashing bore and not someone she wished to inflict on a dear friend. However, Cat saved her the trouble of agonising over the decision, for she took Belinda’s arm and practically towed her from the box.

“We must have some fresh air before we faint,” she declared, and Belinda could do nothing but follow her.

As they hurried away, she thought she heard Mr Haversham calling her name but decided it had been too faint to be certain and ignored it with relief.

“I shall fall on my face if you tug so hard!” Belinda exclaimed, laughing as Cat towed her down the stairs, muttering apologies as she jostled a gentleman carrying two glasses of champagne as he made his way back up the stairs.

“Lady Belinda!”

Belinda dug her heels in and jerked Cat to a halt as she found herself face to face with the gentleman she’d spent far too much of her time thinking about over the past days. Ever since Doris had told her of the way Mr Knight had gazed at her, she had wondered about the things Doris had said about him, and if perhaps she was right, and Mr Knight really would be fun. He seemed a rather serious man, driven by ambition and with little time for anything he must view as frivolous, but he had seemed to have a sense of humour too, a twinkle in those stunning green eyes that intrigued her.

He looked dreadfully handsome tonight, dressed all in evening black which flattered him enormously.

“Good evening, Mr Knight,” she said, wishing she wasn’t so breathless.

“Oh, Felix, good evening,” Cat said, belatedly realising who Belinda was speaking to. “Are those for us?” she demanded, giving Mr Knight an appealing look from under her lashes.

“No,” he said baldly. “So, there’s no use batting your eyelashes at me. Get that husband of yours to fetch you a drink if you want one so much.”

Cat scowled at him. “You’re supposed to be a gentleman, how can you leave two ladies on the brink of swooning when a sip of those delicious drinks would save us?”

“Easily,” he told her, before turning back to Belinda. “I beg your pardon, my lady. Cat and I have known each other since we were babies, and I know all her tricks. I hope you will forgive me, but my companion is expecting me back and—”

“Please, do not trouble yourself,” Belinda said at once, glaring at Cat, who looked entirely unrepentant. “I should not like your companion to go thirsty.” She smiled at him whilst feeling a sudden and quite unreasonable surge of jealousy towards whoever his mystery companion was.

Mr Knight hesitated, aware he could now take his leave, and then sighed. “Here,” he said, handing one glass to Belinda. “If you’ll excuse me.” With that, he left, hurrying back up the stairs.

Cat squealed, clapping her hands together. “Oh, well played, Belinda. Come, let us take it outside. Ciarán is there with Papa so it’s quite safe.

Belinda smiled at that understatement. Anyone thinking of importuning either of them with the Marquess of Montagu and the Marquess of Kilbane standing guard must be mad indeed.

“Ah, you found the poor girl then,” Montagu said, nodding to Lady Belinda as Cat dragged her outside. The air was still far too warm and muggy, but it was glorious compared to the stuffy heat of the theatre.

“Here, Catherine.”

Cat looked around as her husband handed her a glass of champagne. She took it and sent a wicked grin towards Belinda. “Well, I couldn’t help it. I was hoping to keep him from that dreadful woman he’s seeing at the moment.”