Page 55 of A Wicked Business

“If you have something to say, you’d best come in and say it,” the earl said, sounding impatient as gestured for Belinda to precede him into the room. Rather to her surprise, he placed himself between her and Mr Flint, a protective stance she found touching from a man who had never shown her a mite of affection.

“You asked me to discover who is writing and publishing the story about Sefton,” Flint said, eyeing Belinda with a smirk that made her stomach drop. “Well, I found the print shop right enough, and whilst I do not know who the author of the piece is, I did come across a rather tasty little morsel that will make your lovely daughter here nigh on unmarriageable, should it become public knowledge.”

“Damn you, spit it out, you vile piece of work,” the earl said in outrage. “But if you think I’m going to be blackmailed by the likes of you, you’ll find yourself much mistaken.”

Flint’s face hardened. The earl had clearly manipulated him, dangling the carrot of Belinda’s hand in marriage before the man as bait, but never intending to follow through. If Mr Flint hadn’t been so thoroughly unlikeable, or about to reveal a secret she had hoped would remain hidden, Belinda might have felt sorry for him.

“Very well, my lord,” Mr Flint said coldly. “Well, we’ll just see about that, for the owner of that print shop and the person who bought and arranged for publication of His Grace and Disfavour is none other than your precious daughter.”

The earl gaped at him, then snorted. “Don’t be a fool.”

“Oh, I shan’t be. Never again,” Mr Flint said, glaring at the earl with a murderous look in his eyes. “But I am not mistaken. It was clever of you to set up a company to buy the shop on your behalf, Belinda, but with a little encouragement, Miss Ludlow was very forthcoming about the arrangement… once we had come to an understanding.”

“No!” Belinda exclaimed, her hands flying to her face in horror. “Oh, you brute, what did you do? If you’ve hurt her—”

Her father moved closer to her, glaring at Flint as the man carried on speaking, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Settle your feathers, my love. She’s come to no harm, I only explained what would happen should she not be as useful as I wished. Lucky for me, I found her when she was all alone, with no one to hear her call for help.”

“You devil! And you will speak to Lady Belinda with respect, blackguard. She’s no lightskirt to be referred to in such a way,” the earl said with outrage.

Belinda’s heart thudded as she considered Miss Ludlow and what she might have gone through. “What did you do to her?” she asked again, her rage giving her the courage to stand up to the vile man. “For if you have laid a hand on her, I swear upon everything I have, I shall see you punished for it.”

“Come, come, Belinda,” Flint said, his voice soothing now he believed he had power over her and the situation. “There is no need for that. I am a gentleman, after all. I did not touch her, you have my word upon it. I only threatened to hurt her, but more than that was not required.”

“Oh, very gentlemanly,” Belinda replied, scathing, pleased to see him flush at her words.

“Well, as it appears I am forced into dishonourable actions by your duplicitous father, we may as well have the truth with the bark on it. I will ruin you if you do not marry me. If, however, you are willing to be sensible, I shall keep your secret, and no one will be any the wiser. Of course, I will take over the print shop. It is unseemly for a woman to be involved in such a sordid world.”

“You will do no such thing!” she retorted, incensed.

“Then I shall have no choice but to have a private word with Ashburton,” he said, looking so self-satisfied that he had won, Belinda could not wait to wipe the look from his despicable face.

“Ashburton already knows,” she told him triumphantly, smirking at the way he stared at her in shock, the wind taken out of his sails.

There was a sudden bark of laughter and Belinda turned to see her father staring at her with amusement.

“Did you really buy a print shop and publish that wicked story?”

Belinda swallowed but felt a little encouraged by the gleam in his eyes. He didn’t appear to be furious with her. “Yes, Papa,” she admitted.

“You little minx!” Her father exclaimed and then burst out laughing. “And you say Ashburton knows?”

“He does,” Belinda said, staring at her father in shock. She had never, ever seen him laugh before.

“Well, well, when I think of Sefton here, under this very roof, threatening murder and libel and you, cool as anything, sending for my lawyer!” he chortled, wiping his eyes. “Ah, you have spirit, my girl, I’ll give you that. Just like your mama.”

Despite the situation, Belinda felt her throat tighten. This was her father as she had never seen him before, looking almost human and… and proud of her? Surely not!

“Like Mama?” she repeated, astonished.

His eyes softened, a wistful expression on his usually austere face. “Yes, indeed. She loved to stir things up.”

“Well, this is all very charming, but it changes nothing,” Mr Flint said, his tone curt and businesslike. “Lady Belinda will marry me, Keston, or I shall tell the world about her vile little scheme. At the very least Sefton will want to murder her. He’ll certainly believe you were behind it, and she will be ruined in the eyes of society.”

Belinda gasped, hurrying to her father’s side and taking his arm. “Papa?” she said faintly, wondering if he would agree to such a thing to save the family’s reputation.

“There, there, child,” her father said, with surprising gentleness. “Flint, you really are a fool, but sadly for you, I am not. Why do you not think a little about your tenuous financial situation? Do you perhaps remember all those vowels you wrote out? All those ill-considered gambling debts which have put you in such a difficult position you must marry an heiress to save your estate?”