by Sofia Daniel
“Yes.”
“This is something we’ve wanted to do since we were thirteen and fourteen, but until you arrived, we’d never agreed on a fourth.”
My breath caught. “Are you—?”
“That’s a subject best left to the privacy of my home, don’t you think?” He inclined his head. “Good night, Miss Hobson.”
“Emilia.”
A smile broke out across his face that made my heart melt. I’d seen him laugh, smirk, and even bare his teeth, but never anything so radiant. In a low, silky voice that made my toes curl, he said, “Good night, Emilia.”
The next few weeks were a blur of classes, prep, and sexual frustration. I ate with the triumvirate each mealtime, sat with them in classes, but received nothing from them except the chastest of kisses on the knuckles or cheek. Even dance practices were proper and respectable, held in the school ballroom with Rita and three other scholarship students as chaperones.
Most nights, I went to bed, thinking about that champagne-fueled Sunday evening, where we’d nearly lost control. Memories of the boys’ hands over my body, their erections grinding into my ass, and their lips on mine haunted my fantasies and morphed into dreams of the boys pleasuring me on Edward’s velvet sofa.
They were either waiting for me to approach them or biding their time until the Christmas ball.
One morning after breakfast, we stood in the reception hall checking our mailboxes, when Henry dropped his satchel with a thud. He stared at a piece of paper which hung loosely from his fingers.
“What’s wrong?” I tilted my head to read its contents.
Someone had printed out a photo of him shirtless and tied up. Beneath the picture was a scrawled note demanding twenty-five thousand pounds in cash to be deposited in the nearest phone box… or else.
My heart shuddered to a stop, and I gasped out, “The kidnappers.”
A muscle in his jaw flexed, and his hand closed around the paper. “Yes,” he said, his voice tight. “It looks like they’ve already spent the ransom money.”
“What are you going to do?”
He shrugged. “Track down Father for money, I suppose. And stay within the academy grounds.”
I clenched my teeth. If he gave in to their threats, they would never leave him alone. The words I had etched into my brain tumbled to the forefront of my mind. It was time to call the police and tell them what had happened.
At first break, I rushed back from the main teaching block to Elder house and bumped into Blake in the reception hall. He grabbed onto my arms. “Emilia, are you alright? You look troubled.”
I glanced over his shoulder. A group of students were approaching through the hallway. “Can we talk somewhere else?”
“Of course.” He swung his arm out toward the open door.
I stepped out of Elder House, and Blake gestured to the right. “There’s a quiet spot between here and the tuck shop.”
“Right.” I glanced in the direction of a one story building at the end of a long pathway that edged the lawn. A few buildings stood to the right of the path, but they weren’t crowded with students. “Thanks.”
Blake and I walked in silence, our feet crunching on the gravel. I folded my arms over my chest, holding down the anticipation thrumming in my heart. Maybe Blake would have a better idea of how to deal with the kidnappers. He had links to royalty, and had probably been briefed on what to do if under threat.
When we reached a building similar to Elder House, he stopped and gestured at a wooden bench opposite. “What’s on your mind?”
“It’s Henry.” I lowered myself onto the seat and stared into my lap. “The kidnappers sent him a letter. They want twenty-five thousand pounds or they’ll take him away again.”
“I see…”
My head snapped up, and I stared into Blake’s unconcerned, chocolate-brown eyes. “They have an inside man at the academy.”
He nodded.
“Well?”
“It’s a rather tricky subject.” He tilted his head to the side. “Did they say anything else?”
My head jerked back and I blinked hard. “Isn’t that enough?”
“You’re right.” He gave me a side-long look. “Maybe the four of us need to spend a little more time hidden away. Edward has a cozy, little study—”
“I have to call the police.”
Blake winced. “I’m sure that will enrage the kidnappers.”
I shot to my feet and paced up to the empty building. “They need to be behind bars where they can’t hurt anyone else!”
“Come back.” He patted the seat. “Emilia, you’re over reacting.”
“They’re desperate and dangerous. I can’t just do nothing while they’re out there, circling the academy.”
“You’re underestimating Henry. He’s the captain of the rugby team and tougher than any boy in our year. If a pair of kidnappers come close, he’d fight them off and raise the alarm.” Blake grinned. “There’s no need to call the police. Henry can take care of himself.”
A frustrated breath pushed its way out of my nostrils. How could Blake be so stupidly optimistic? Henry had been all of those things during the school trip, and the kidnappers had managed to abduct him then. Now that these people had a sure way to extort money, they probably wouldn’t leave Henry alone until they had accidentally overdosed him with those drugs.
Blake stood, placed his hands on my shoulders, and gazed in the direction of the main teaching block. “I’m glad you’re calmer. It’s time for class.”
“I’m going back to Elder House.”
“See you later.” He gave me an absent smile and strolled away.
I stared at his retreating back. Even though Blake had said I shouldn’t call the police, the reasons he gave me indicated that I should. Henry was in danger, and I wouldn’t let him spend another day in captivity with those hippie assholes. I pulled out my smartphone and googled the number of the local police.
The sooner they arrested the kidnappers, the sooner Henry would be able to get on with his life and forget that the ordeal had ever happened.
Chapter 19
Early on the Monday morning after I had called the police, Mr. Carbuncle knocked on my door, saying the headmaster wanted to see me urgently. I dressed as quickly as I could, threw on a coat, and hurried across the frost-covered campus with the janitor at my heels. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out the sounds of frozen twigs breaking underfoot. Had Mom and Rudolph finally arrived in England to complain about the school’s negligence? The headmaster hadn’t even visited Elder House to ask if Henry and I had recovered from our ordeal. I expected Mom would be livid when she heard about this.
We rushed into the main teaching block, up the stairs, and down the hallway. Mr. Chaloner’s door was ajar, so I knocked and stepped inside. Instead of Mom and Rudolph, two men I’d never seen before sat in the seats opposite the desk, leaving me nowhere to sit. They didn’t seem the academic types, so I focused my attention on the headmaster.
Mr. Chaloner stood. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Miss Hobson. May I introduce you to Chief Inspector Faust and Sergeant Sullivan, both Mercia Academy alumni.”
Neither of the men stood, but the older one, who wore a black undertaker’s suit that contrasted with his startling white hair and pencil mustache, gave me a nod of acknowledgment.
I sucked in a sharp breath. “Is this about the kidnapping? Did you catch the culprits?”
The headmaster crossed the room and pulled up a stool. “Do take a seat, Miss Hobson.”
“Thanks,” I kept my voice flat. I still hadn’t forgiven him for trying to confiscate my phone.
When I settled onto the stool, Chief Inspector Faust spoke. “Let me get straight to the point, Miss Hobson. We used the information you gave us to track down the people you said abducted you and Mr. Bourneville.”
I bristled at the tone of his voice. It implied that he doubted we’d been kidnapped at all. “Did you arrest them? I told you they’d threatene
d Henry and will strike again if he doesn’t give in to their demands.”
“We found a house full of squatters who confirm that you and Mr. Bourneville stayed with them, but as guests.” He remained silent and folded his arms across his chest.
I stared into his gray eyes, wondering what he wanted me to say. That the kidnappers were liars? Anyone with an ounce of sense would know that criminals would say anything to get out of trouble. The silence continued like one of those whistling kettles where the pressure built and built until the sound became deafening. My heart thrummed with a painful mix of anticipation and dread, pulling every nerve in my body taut.
My head pounded in memory of what I had suffered at those people’s hands. “What did they say happened, then? Why would any sane person leave a school trip to stay in that filthy, attic room?”
“They claim that you arranged to abduct Henry Bourneville in revenge for an altercation you had during a camping trip.”
I shook my head. “They’re lying. I’ve never argued with Henry, and even if I did, I wouldn’t retaliate with a kidnapping.
Inspector Faust pursed his lips. “That might be the case, but the five-hundred thousand pounds they helped you to extort from Mr. Bourneville the elder gives you a strong motivation for arranging your classmate’s abduction.”
My breath caught. “But I didn’t—”
“We found nearly ten thousand pounds in cash at the squat,” said the sergeant, a red-haired man with thick brows that matched his trimmed beard. “What did you do with the rest?”
“Me?” I gasped out. “How could I arrange something as complicated as a kidnapping when I haven’t spent more than half a day away from the academy since I came to England?”
“You tell me,” he replied.
I spluttered. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t even know we’d be going to the Peak District until Mr. Jenkins announced the trip!”
Sergeant Sullivan folded his arms across his chest. “Why would the kidnappers identify you as their accomplice?”
“Revenge,” I said.
His brow rose. “I beg your pardon?”
“They were pissed because they tried to get a ransom out of my stepfather, but he kept negotiating them down.”
The look the inspector gave me was part boredom and part disgust. “All the evidence is stacked against you. The staff we interviewed told us of a campaign of bullying and harassment conducted against you by Mr. Bourneville and his friends. Your motivation for his abduction is financial gain and revenge.”
I turned to the headmaster, hoping he would step in and tell these bungling policemen they were being ridiculous, but the man stood in the corner of the room, folding his arms as though this was no problem of his. My jaws gnashed together. The bastard had washed his hands of me, and I was on my own.
“Why would I report my so-called accomplices and incriminate myself?” I asked.
“They told me there was a dispute about money,” replied Inspector Faust. “When they demanded a larger share for the efforts they had made, you threatened to have them arrested. It looks like you carried out that threat.”
“No.” I shot to my feet, letting the stool clatter on the floor. My heart pounded against my ribcage urging me to say something to convince them of my innocence. “Ask Henry what happened. He’ll tell you I didn’t do it.”
Chief Inspector Faust also stood. “We spoke to Mr. Bourneville on Friday.”
“What did he say?” My voice shook.
The sergeant flipped his notebook open. “He was shocked at the suggestion that you were involved but had to admit that the evidence against you is overwhelming.”
All the blood drained from my face, and my heartbeat slowed to a dull, heavy thud. I’d seen him yesterday, the day before, and the day before that, but he’d never mentioned anything about being interviewed by the police. Had they told him to keep quiet while they finished their investigation? How could Henry have believed the kidnappers over me?
My insides trembled, and nausea crawled up the back of my throat. “Does he believe I was behind the kidnapping?”
“Let’s continue this conversation after the arrest,” said the inspector.
“Right,” replied the sergeant.
The edges of my vision blurred, and the walls spun like I was stuck in the middle of a merry-go-round. Pressing my clammy palms to my temples, I squeezed my eyes shut to stop myself from falling. This couldn’t be happening. I had contacted the police to protect Henry from the kidnappers’ demands, not to have suspicion fall on me. I needed a lawyer. Mom. Anyone who could talk sense into these cops and explain that I could never have orchestrated the abduction of a classmate.
The headmaster stepped out of his corner, and relief washed over my fevered body. He was going to remind them I was underage, and to take the matter up with Mom.
He straightened the jacket of his pinstriped suit and said, “The academy can’t afford a scandal. Miss Hobson only enrolled a little over two months ago.” A nervous laugh warbled in his throat. “She isn’t really one of us, and her indiscretions shouldn’t tarnish the academy.”
After the shock of all the other revelations, I wasn’t surprised the headmaster wanted to throw me under the bus to save his school’s precious reputation.
“What do you suggest, Headmaster?” Chief Inspector Faust scraped his chair back as though readying himself to pounce on me.
“Let me expel her before releasing her into your custody.” He drummed his fingers on a cabinet by the wall.
“But I’m innocent,” I gasped out.
The officers didn’t even spare me a glance. Inspector Faust rubbed his chin as though considering the request. “How soon can you get her parents to come down and accompany her to the station?”
My knees knocked together, threatening to give way and have me crashing onto the silk rug. I rested my palms on the headmaster’s desk, lowered my head, and breathed hard. The whoosh of blood rushing through my eardrums and the pulse reverberating in my skull muffled out their conversation. I could make out the headmaster explaining that my parents were in the USA, and the police refusing to take me without a guardian and demanding the identity of my housemaster. The conversation went back and forth until the headmaster agreed to keep me in a solitary room until Mom or Rudolph could come and get me.
Both officers left, and Mr. Carbuncle came in. After a short exchange with the headmaster, the janitor marched me out of the main teaching block. The journey across the lawn and under the skeletal trees felt like walking on cotton wool, I was that numb. This had to be a nightmare because there was no way anyone would believe me over a bunch of kidnapping hippies. As we passed through the wooden doors of Elder House, a little voice in the back of my head told me to go to the dining room and confront Henry. But I couldn’t face him if he thought I’d arranged the kidnapping.
Mr. Carbuncle guided me down a staircase that lead to the basement and through a humid hallway. The matron and her staff bustled from room to room, oblivious of my predicament. I wanted to cry out. Ask for help, but I couldn’t break through my wall of numb shock.
“I knew you were trouble the minute I laid eyes on you.” The janitor stared into my face, his expression expectant.
I stared through him. If he wanted a bribe, he was out of luck.
He unhooked his giant ring of keys, fumbled about with its contents, and unlocked a door at the end of the hallway that consisted of a narrow cot. “In you go.” He gave me a gentle shove on the back. “This is where you’ll stay until your mum and stepdad come for you.”
As soon as I stepped through the threshold, the door slammed shut, and the key turned in the lock.
My heart ached. It overflowed with bitter grief that filled my chest, caught in my throat, and spilled from my eyes in a torrent of tears. I was confined. Again. And this time, Henry wasn’t there to keep me sane. He was upstairs, sitting at the head table, hating me for orchestrating his kidnapping. Charlotte was probably holding his hand, expl
aining that a trollop like me would take any desperate measures to access the Bourneville fortune and its heir.
I walked across the creaking floorboards, lowered myself onto the cot, and slumped. The mattress springs squeaked under my weight. What would Edward think? That I was a calculating whore who had worked out a way to infiltrate the triumvirate? And Blake? I couldn’t even imagine his reaction to my impending arrest. I doubled over, resting my knees on the bed, pressed the heels of my hands into my temples, and dug my nails into my scalp.
Mom would disassociate herself from me if she hadn’t done so already. Once they could arrest me, it would be all over the news that the daughter of Veronica Hobson had kidnapped a British aristocrat. Rudolph might divorce her for the scandal, and she’d have to find a new husband. I blew out a breath. Somehow, I needed to fix things.
In the bare, white room, each interval between the bells felt like days. I almost missed the musty attic room with its piles of broken furniture and curtain-like cobwebs. At least I hadn’t been alone there. A few minutes into second break, the key turned in the lock. I leaped off the bed and rushed to the door.
Henry stepped in, flanked by Edward and Blake, each wearing stony expressions.
A sob formed in my throat, and I rushed to Henry and grabbed his biceps. “You’ve got to believe me, I didn’t even know the kidnappers, let alone arrange for them to abduct you!”
He peeled my hands off his arms and held me at arm’s length. “I told you not to call the police.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “But they were threatening to take you again. I couldn’t let that happen!”
He glanced at Edward, who shook his head. “She doesn’t get it.”
“Get what?” I asked.
Blake wrapped a hand around my arm, guided me across the room, and pulled me down to sit. Then he stepped back and said, “You meddled, and now you’re paying the price.”
“But I was trying to help.” My voice broke.
Edward leaned against the wall. “We had it under control. The kidnappers were never a threat.”
