Page 67 of A Wicked Business

Chapter 18

Dearest Belinda,

We have been reading the shocking story of your abduction. Whilst I know better than to believe anything written in a scandal sheet, friends just arrived from town insist it is all true. It sounds utterly terrifying and, sadly, all too plausible. Mr Flint always made my skin creep. Please write back at once and reassure me.

Further to this, a little bird tells me you are to marry Felix! You wicked creature! Was this your plan from the beginning? I am in awe of your scheming. Well done, my friend!

――Excerpt of a letter from The Most Hon’ble Catherine ‘Cat’ St Just, Lady Kilbane (daughter of The Most Hon’ble Lucian and Matilda Montagu, the Marquess and Marchioness of Montagu) to The Lady Belinda Madox-Brown.

14th August 1850, Keston House, Grosvenor Square, London.

“How the devil did Lady Helena arrange such a grand affair in the time?” Papa grumbled as she took his arm and they got their first glimpse of the ballroom at Keston House, packed with people.

“She’s a marvel, and a law unto herself,” Belinda said happily, almost bursting with excitement.

“Hmph. Like someone else I know,” he said, turning to look at his only daughter. A crease formed between his brows as he gazed down at her, his expression solemn. “You are certain?”

Belinda smiled up at him. “As certain as anyone can be when taking such a step, Papa. He’s a good man, and one who won’t crush my spirit or think me nothing but a pretty ornament. But he won’t let me rule him, either. He’s strong enough to stand up to me when I’m being awful.”

Her father laughed at that and shook his head. “I have missed out on so much, your entire life it seems, and now when it is too late, I find I regret it. I would do it all again if I could and do it differently.”

Belinda felt tears prickle at her eyes. “Oh, Papa, don’t make me cry now, drat you!” she exclaimed. “But it is not too late. Not in the least. You shall see me all the time if you wish to, and your grandchildren too, when they come. I expect you to be a doting grandpapa, you know.”

“I should like that,” he said, a wistful gleam in his eyes.

“Well, then, you had best hurry and give me away,” Belinda told him sternly, getting a rueful smile in return.

Belinda was not entirely convinced that this humble, regretful Papa would endure. She feared in time work and ambition would take his attention and perhaps he would drift back into his old ways, but then, perhaps not. He seemed entirely sincere, and she was certainly ready to give him the benefit of the doubt. For now, his acceptance of her marriage to Felix and the joy of being able to celebrate with his approval and support, was everything she had ever dreamed of.

When she saw Felix waiting for her, dressed formally in a beautifully tailored dark blue tailcoat with buff trousers and waistcoat, her heart leapt with eager delight. A black tie completed the ensemble and, as Belinda gazed at him, an oddly thrilling sensation thrummed under her skin, a dizzying mixture of anticipation and excitement.

He smiled as he saw her, a possessive light in his eyes which did nothing to diminish the nervous energy buzzing inside her. His gaze travelled over her, and she shivered as though his hands had taken the same path.

Somehow, Lady Helena had wrought a miracle with her wedding gown. Her new mother-in-law’s own modiste had supplied a stunning dress of ivory, heavily embroidered at the bottom of the skirts with flowers and vines, whilst bees and butterflies flitted further up and over the bodice. It was the most beautiful gown Belinda had ever seen and, combined with a diamond parure including a magnificent tiara that had belonged to her mother, she felt like a princess.

“He does not deserve you, my child,” her father whispered, just before he handed her over to her husband-to-be.

Belinda’s smile faltered, hoping he would not spoil things at the last moment, but he only smiled and pressed her hand between his.

“No man ever could,” he told her softly, before raising her fingers to his lips and kissing them.

Belinda blinked, touched by his words, before going and standing beside Felix, waiting with impatience for the ceremony to begin. Suddenly she was glad, glad things had happened at such speed, glad they had not had to tolerate months of well-chaperoned courtship. She did not think she could have endured it when her longing for him seemed to burn inside her and grow with the speed of a wildfire.

The ceremony seemed to go on forever, and Belinda did her best to attend to the words, to speak her vows and mean them… well, except for the obeying bit. She had slanted a meaningful glance at Felix when saying that part and he had struggled to keep his countenance, knowing as well as she did it was a forlorn hope.

Finally, it was over, and the groom was given leave to kiss his bride. Belinda raised her face, expecting a soft press of his lips, and was startled to be taken in her husband’s arms and the job done thoroughly, to mingled exclamations of laughter and encouragement, and a few gasps of shock.

Belinda blushed a fiery red as he released her. He looked smug, a wicked light dancing in his eyes.

“I shall get you for that,” she promised him under her breath, wondering how on earth she would face her father—or anyone!

“Be my guest,” he replied, winking at her.

Belinda bit her lip. She had spent the past days wondering exactly what it would be like to be married to this man and now she thought it might be a good deal of fun.

Well-wishers engulfed them as the guests swarmed and Belinda was suddenly caught up in an enthusiastic hug, as a delightful floral scent and rustling skirts enveloped her.

“Cat!” she laughed, as her friend kissed her cheek.