Page 19 of A Wicked Business

Chapter 6

Dearest Bonnie,

Evie has had another little girl! Apparently, she is as beautiful as her father – Evie’s words, not mine – but if true, we may need to employ an armed guard by the time she is old enough for her come out! I am so excited to see the little darling. We are packing now and plan to leave first thing in the morning. I am a little cross Evie did not wait for we were due to visit next week in anticipation of the happy event, but little Sophronia was too impatient to make her grand entrance into the world, it seems.

Besides, I shall be happy to escape from town. It’s nasty and smelly and too hot and I would have left weeks ago, but Gabe had business that could not be avoided, and he gets so difficult when we are apart, biting everyone’s head off. I decided it would be best for everyone if I stayed. Besides which, I hate being away from him even after all these years.

Have you heard any more about that Norbury woman? I pray Felix cuts his ties there before she gets her claws into him. I saw her flirting wildly with Lord Keston last week, which just goes to show how awful she is. He was dreadfully rude to me, you know, at Harriet’s ball in the spring. I never told Gabe, for it would only have caused a scene, but the horrid man implied I was a traitor to my heritage for marrying out of my class! I very nearly slapped him. I feel so sorry for his daughter, though I do not know what to make of her. Some of the young bucks seem to find her rather terrifying. She certainly seems very strong willed from the little I have seen of her. Perhaps she takes after the earl and shares his opinions? But nevermind that.

I have another granddaughter!!! Huzzah!

―Excerpt of a letter from The Lady Helena Knight to her friend Mrs Bonnie Cadogan.

8th July 1850, Regent Street, London.

Belinda crossed the road in a lather of confusion. Her emotions seemed to have spun around and around, lurching from irritation to indignation to amusement to affront and… and she did not know what she was feeling from one moment to the next. It seemed as though every time she looked at Mr Knight it was like striking two flints together and the sparks flew in all directions. She was not usually so easily riled, but there was something about him that made her temper flare and, from what he had just said, he was experiencing a similar reaction. How odd.

She glanced up at him as he guided her carefully across the street, avoiding refuse and oncoming traffic with diligent attention. If she had been asked, she would have said his hair was a middling shade of brown, but now, with the light shining on it, she saw bronze and gold and a dozen different shades that defied brown as a description. His jawline was strong, and she suspected he was a pigheaded soul, or at least tenacious. Like his father, she supposed, for a man could not make such a climb from poverty to wealth without a strength of will that must be nigh on unbendable. He turned his head, checking the way was clear, and she gazed at his green eyes, an odd sensation uncoiling in her stomach. The arm beneath her fingers seemed to resonate strength and gave her the feeling of being entirely safe, though when he noticed her regard and their eyes met, that feeling dissipated. The look in his eyes then was not safe at all and her pulse thundered.

Belinda dragged her attention back to the road just in time to notice the kerb and stepped up instead of falling on her face as she might have. She slanted another look up at Mr Knight, who was looking amused, and she cursed herself for ogling him so openly. She was as bad as Doris. Worse, for at least Doris hadn’t been caught staring.

“I do miss the colonnades, don’t you?” she remarked, desperate to ease the tension she felt stirring between them once more. If she did not do something, they would end up arguing again.

Mr Knight glanced towards the southern end of Regent Street where, until two years ago, the street had been graced by an elegant curving colonnade that gave shoppers a dry walkway to avoid the often-inclement British weather.

“It is certainly less elegant,” Mr Knight admitted. “But far safer. Better to walk in the safety of daylight than wonder if a pickpocket or cutthroat is lurking behind each pillar. I’m afraid it enticed a good deal of criminal activity, especially at night. It also made the shops very dark,” he added practically. “I believe business has picked up markedly since that graceful façade was removed.”

“That’s the sort of detail you think about, isn’t it?” she said, struck by his words.

“Making money?” he asked, a sardonic twist to his lips.

“No!” Belinda retorted, stung, before rethinking her reaction. “Well, yes, in part, I suppose, though I meant no implied criticism by it, but I meant more that you think about the practical aspect of things. At least, if I have understood correctly from Catherine, that is part of your work.”

The rather hard expression eased, and he nodded. “Yes, that’s part of my job, making sure that the grand plans my father imagines actually work, pointing out the flaws and problems before too much investment has been made and it’s too late to resolve them.”

Belinda smiled ruefully. “That must be why you’re so very critical of my every deficiency.”

He looked surprised by her words, which heartened her a little. “I am not the least bit critical.”

This, however, was too much. Belinda spluttered, so outraged she could hardly speak. “What a plumper!” she exclaimed finally. “I spend every moment in your presence horribly aware of how much you disapprove of me.”

“I—” Mr Knight began and then stopped. He shook his head and his expression became serious. “My lady, if I have given you such an impression, then I am most grievously sorry. I cannot imagine how dreadful my manners must have been to have put such thoughts into your head. Indeed, I find it hard to believe when the truth is I find a great deal to admire in you.”

Belinda stared at him and then blushed, disconcerted by the sincerity of his words.

“Thank you,” she said, hardly knowing what to say. “And I would like you to know too, Mr Knight, that I find a great deal to admire in you, and in your father. I know you are tremendously proud of him and… and I envy you the ability to feel such pride in him more than I can say.”

8th July 1850, Regent Street, London.

Felix stared after Lady Belinda in surprise, so startled by her words that it took a moment for him to realise she had entered the silversmith’s without him. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he turned to see Charles guiding Lady Kilbane and Miss Bodrott across the road and lifted his hand, pointing at the shop before following Lady Belinda inside.

She was gazing down at a glass-topped cabinet and, in the few seconds Felix had been absent, she had attracted two male shop assistants who were clearly vying for her attention.

“What about a silver bracelet, miss?” one of the young men said. “It would look lovely against those pretty yellow gloves you’re wearing.”

He could be no more than two and twenty and was gazing at Belinda with the look of a man in the presence of a goddess. Felix found he could not entirely blame the poor fool.

“That’s my lady,” he told the fellow, giving him a stern glance that told him to mind his manners.