Page 48 of A Wicked Business

Belinda considered his words, a sinking feeling in her heart. “He’s not going to like this, is he? You marrying me, I mean.”

Felix didn’t answer, which was answer enough, but after a while he turned, smiling at her.

“You are an extraordinary girl, and my father is no fool. He’ll see what I see, and all will be well. I promise you. You cannot be held responsible for your father’s actions, and it won’t take him long to admit that.”

Belinda knew he could promise nothing of the sort, but she believed he was sincere, and the knowledge was reassuring.

“Doris is a wonderful woman, but I wish her elsewhere,” he added, leaning down to whisper against her ear.

Belinda shivered, her heart giving an excited little thud behind her ribs. She gazed up at him as he lowered his mouth, pressing it to hers. Her breath caught, the flare of delighted wonder just as strong and exhilarating as before, and regret coursed through her as he pulled back.

“Well, there’s a reason in favour of rushing to the altar,” he said with a grin before glancing out of the window. With a sigh, he ran an agitated hand through his hair. “We’re here.”

Belinda woke the still snoring Doris and took Felix’s hand as she stepped down from the carriage. Her heart was suddenly racing, her palms damp within her gloves as she realised she must face Lady Helena, and possibly Gabriel Knight too. Belinda had never considered herself a shrinking violet and prided herself on being able to navigate any social situation with calm dignity, but at that moment, she wanted to turn tail and scramble back into the carriage.

Gathering her courage, she pasted a smile to her face as Felix brought the knocker down on the front door with two loud strikes. He returned her smile and took her hand, his long fingers curving around hers, and suddenly she felt stronger, more able to confront whatever his parents threw at them.

“This is the easy bit, love. My mother is going to love you, don’t worry,” he predicted, giving her hand a squeeze as the door swung open.

They were shown into a large, elegant hallway where the butler took Belinda and Doris’ cloaks and bonnets.

“There’s no need to announce me,” Felix told the butler, who nodded. “But perhaps you might take Miss Bodrott to the kitchens and make her comfortable whilst she waits for her mistress.”

“Certainly, sir,” the butler said, gesturing for Doris to follow him.

Doris sent Belinda an encouraging smile and held up her hands, showing crossed fingers.

Belinda smiled and watched Doris disappear downstairs before Felix took her hand once more.

“Come along,” he said.

Belinda followed him, gazing around at an enormous property that was every bit as grand as her father’s, but somehow felt entirely different. This was a home, not just a showpiece for the owner’s wealth. Oh, there were just as many priceless artworks, paintings and sculptures and rugs, but they had been displayed with care and were clearly meant to be enjoyed, to be a part of the warmth and welcome the house provided, not merely exhibits to impress.

As Felix led her to a large oak door and swung it open, they heard a woman’s soft laugh, and then a louder bark of laughter as they entered the room.

Though it was August, the thunderstorm of the previous day was still rumbling around, and rain fell from a leaden sky. The temperature had plummeted, and Belinda was hardly surprised to see the fire flickering in the grate taking the chill off the large room and making it warm and cosy.

Lady Helena was sitting by the fire in a large wingback armchair, her shoes kicked off and her legs tucked up under her skirts. To Belinda’s mingled delight and consternation, she held the latest chapter of His Grace and Disfavour in one hand, and a cup of tea in the other.

The lady gave another cackle of laughter and then looked up in surprise.

“Felix! You wicked boy, why did you not tell me you were coming?” she asked, setting her cup and the book down and swinging her legs to the floor. Her keen eyes, the same extraordinary green as her son’s, took them in, resting briefly on their clasped hands.

“Well, come in, my dears. I shall call for a fresh pot of tea and some cake. It’s such a dismal day and cake always makes things better, don’t you think?” She came over to Belinda and held out her hand. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Lady Belinda. I have often thought it a great bit of nonsense that you live just across the square from us and yet we have never met. I’m glad to remedy the situation.”

“As am I, my lady,” Belinda said, relieved by the warmth of her welcome and a little awed by Lady Helena, who in her mid-fifties was still a stunning and wonderfully elegant woman, even having been caught unawares by her son.

“Please sit down,” Helena said, ushering them to a comfortable-looking settee before sitting down herself. She perched on the edge of her seat, her green eyes alight with curiosity as she looked expectantly at her son. “Do hurry up, Felix. Tell me everything, before I burst.”

Felix laughed and raised the hand that held Belinda’s, resting it upon his knee. “We’re engaged, Mama.”

“Oh!” She surged to her feet and rushed over to Felix, who stood as she hugged him tightly. “I knew it! I knew there was someone. Didn’t I say so?”

“You did,” Felix replied ruefully. “As ever, you know far more about me than I do myself.”

“Well, of course I do, I’m your mama! Now, Belinda, my dear—may I call you Belinda? — come here. Let me look at you properly.”

Belinda nodded and laughed, allowing Lady Helena to turn her in a circle. “Goodness, what a beauty. Well done, Felix! And I know you are not one of those silly chits who agree with every daft thing a man says, for I have heard tell you are a forthright young woman.”