Page 56 of A Wicked Business

The colour drained slowly from Mr Flint’s face. “No,” he said, shaking his head as if he could deny the truth.

“Oh, I’m afraid, yes, sir. I have bought them, every last one, and if you dare to open your mouth and a whisper of this affair gets out, I shall call them all in and ruin you.”

Her father looked far too pleased with himself at the prospect of ruining another human being’s life but, in the circumstances, Belinda could only be glad for his Machiavellian ways. He must have known from the start that Mr Flint was untrustworthy and taken precautions. The thought made her shiver.

“I think we have said everything we need to say, Mr Flint. I believe you know the way out,” the earl said crisply.

Mr Flint looked purple with rage now, his colour having gone from that of a cold milk pudding to one where an apoplexy might be imminent. “You’ve not heard the last of me,” he spat, before stalking out of the study and slamming the door behind him.

Belinda stood still, too stunned to move as she tried to comprehend everything that had just happened. Silence reigned for a long moment until her father spoke.

“I want you to know, Belinda, I never intended for you to marry that man,” he said, his expression grave.

“I am glad to hear it,” Belinda replied faintly.

He nodded. “Run along now, child. I am weary after such a disagreeable scene. We will speak more about this print shop of yours, for you must realise that cannot continue.”

“But Papa—” Belinda protested, but her father held up his hand to silence her.

“Go. Now, Belinda. We will speak again in the morning.”

Knowing better than to press him when he had given a direct command, Belinda left the room.