by Sofia Daniel
Gideon shook his head and sighed.
“What?” I snapped.
“Anything you do against Elizabeth in her own territory will backfire. Half of the Board of Governors consists of her family and the other half are those loyal to either the archbishop or sycophants of Lady Liddell.”
“What are you saying? That I should lie back and take whatever Elizabeth dishes out?”
“Excel in your studies, develop your talents as a fashion designer, and don’t give her any ammunition to use against you.”
“No.” I stuck my fork in my shepherd’s pie.
Gideon frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Elizabeth dug into my background, exposed my secrets to the school, and brought my worst enemies up to Glasgow. Then she got me arrested for possession with intent to supply.” I shook my head. “If I turn the other cheek, she’ll come after me again with worse.”
“How do you intend to avenge yourself without it backfiring? You have neither her resources nor her network of support.”
“I’ll think of something.”
He brought his teacup to his lips. “Meanwhile, you’ve just ejected your best potential ally.”
I clenched my teeth. Gideon was right. “I might have said no, but those assholes will try to recruit me again. If I infiltrate their gang, I can take them down from the inside.”
Gideon might have made another weary sigh, but I wasn’t listening. I could still get good grades, learn everything I could about fashion from Miss Martin, and get revenge on Elizabeth and those bastards.
Chapter 9
On Monday morning, the chiming of the clock tower woke me at seven. I snapped my eyes open and stared at the ceiling. Thanks to Elizabeth and her bloody knights, I would miss the last week of term and lose out on an opportunity to observe my enemies at work.
After swinging my legs out of bed, I stood at the window and stared at the academy building. From a distance, it looked like a fairytale castle with its pretty balconies and tall towers, but up close, it was just part of a vast estate owned by a powerful lord and lady who overindulged their spoiled daughter.
If half the gangsters in Richley didn’t want to skin me alive, I might have considered returning home. A cloud drifted over the sun, making my heart sink. But that would mean leaving Mr. Burgh, and he’d already taken up a large space within my heart.
The bell rang.
My heart did a couple of jumping jacks. It was probably Orlando, begging me to reconsider. I shouldered on a dressing gown and bolted out of the room. The landscape paintings in the upstairs hallways blurred as I raced toward the grand staircase. This time, I would make him get down on his knees and kiss my feet.
At the bottom of the stairs, I slowed, straightened out my hair, and winced at the dry strands. With all this stress about the arrest, I’d forgotten my Sunday-morning deep conditioning treatment.
The bell rang again, and excitement fizzled through my chest and gathered between my legs. Orlando was an eager fucker. After kissing my feet, I’d make him suck my clit.
With all the dignity I could muster, I opened the door, letting in a gust of cool air.
Miss Martin stood at the doorway, clad in a black, wool coat that looked like it had been inspired by a straight jacket. She pursed her lips and breathed hard through her nostrils as though out of breath. “Good morning, Miss Hancock. May I come in?”
“Um… Yes.” My gaze traveled down to the suitcase she’d placed on her right side. Next to it was a plastic sewing-machine case. I bent down and reached for the cases. “Let me help you with your things.”
“Thank you.” She stepped inside and glanced around the foyer. “I pulled these together the moment I heard about your suspension.”
Hefting the cases over the threshold, I asked, “What’s in this case?”
“Pattern books and handwritten notes from my time at Dior.”
My jaw dropped. “For me?”
Her lips quirked into a smile. “They’re not the originals.”
“But still…” We stood in the hallway, staring at each other. A rush of gratitude swelled through my chest and made my heart soar. Words weren’t enough to express my appreciation. It wasn’t like I had access to Gideon’s mental thesaurus. “Thank you, Miss. I really appreciate it.”
“Thank me by becoming a brilliant designer. Regardless of what kind of trouble that girl tries, no one can take away your talent.”
“She’s trying to get me expelled.”
With a soft snort, Miss Martin tossed her head. “Let her.”
“What?”
“There are other places in Scotland where you can finish your A-Levels, but very few institutions that will accept a girl who constantly gets into trouble with the police.” She fixed me with a stern look. “Think about your long-term goals.”
My shoulders rose around my ears. She was right. At some point in the future, I wanted to sit on a pile of cash, Scrooge McDuck-style, raking in all the money I earned from my fashion label. But I’d never get the experience or industry contacts from a jail cell.
“Think about what I’ve said.” Miss Martin placed a gnarled hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“I will, Miss.”
With a sad smile, she turned on her heel and let herself out of the door.
I sat on the tartan chair and stared at the sewing machine case. Hadn’t Gideon said something similar the day before? There was enough time to enroll in a nearby school or sixth-form college for the spring term. Elizabeth might crow over her supposed victory over me but that was better than whatever she had planned to get rid of me next.
A bolt of anger shot through my chest. Since when did I let the likes of Elizabeth Liddell push me around? The fashion world, like all competitive fields, was full of backstabbers. If I ran away at the first sign of a more powerful opponent, I’d be running my entire career.
Straightening, I turned toward the kitchen, only for the bell to ring again. I spun around and answered the door.
A red-headed girl stood on the doorstep, her head bowed, and her arms wrapped around her body.
“Maeve?”
She raised her head. “Adewale told me you were back from prison. What happened?”
“You haven’t heard?”
“There’s all sorts of rumors flying about.” She glanced in the direction of the academy and frowned. “Can I come in? This place is out of bounds, and if I get caught—”
“Sure.” I stepped aside to let her in, then we walked to the living room together.
Maeve turned around in a circle, taking in the gorgeous, chandelier-lit living room with its crackling fireplace and champagne-colored sofas. “Mr. Burgh lives here?”
“It’s the headmaster’s quarters,” I said. “But he spends most of his time at the academy like everyone else.”
“Of course.” She lowered herself into the armchair closest to the fire and hugged herself. “I-I heard you wanted to know about the last girl who got expelled.”
“Are you alright?”
“What?” Maeve’s teeth chattered.
I took a few steps toward Maeve, making her stiffen in her seat. “You seem cold, but it was only a short walk from the academy to here.”
“Oh.” She wiped a shaky hand through her brow. “Maybe I’m coming down with the flu.”
“Do you have low blood sugar?” I stood, remembering how one of the girls at my old school used to get the shakes because she was on insulin. The only thing that helped her was chocolate or a glucose tablet. “I can make you—”
“No.” She bolted up to her feet. “I’m fine.”
“If you say so.” I lowered myself onto the sofa and stared at her trembling fingers.
Maeve shoved her hands in the pockets of her blazer and sat back in the armchair. “What happened?”
I took a good look at my classmate. From the way she sweated and trembled, it was hard to tell if she was freezing cold or burning with a fever. Maeve shrank into her s
eat, looking as though she couldn’t bear my scrutiny, so I turned my head and viewed her from the corner of my eye.
“Some dickhead thought they’d be clever and sneak a large quantity of flour into my room wrapped up to look like drugs,” I said.
Her eyes bulged. “But the sniffer dogs—”
“They must have sprinkled trace amounts of cocaine on top of the bag, so the dogs knew where to look.”
Maeve straightened. “I knew you weren’t dealing.”
“Is that what they’re all saying?”
“Adewale’s telling everyone you’re the victim of a vicious prank, but they’re all saying he’s biased because you’re…” Clenching the arms of her chair, she lowered her gaze to her knees. “You know.”
“Giving him hand jobs?” I asked.
Maeve didn’t say anything for a several moments, letting the crack and pop of the fire fill the silence. “Blow jobs, actually.”
I snorted. “Right.”
“Is it true?”
“What are you talking about? I just told you—”
“No, I meant you and Adewale?”
“We’re best friends. That’s all.”
Maeve stiffened into one of those flinching shudders people usually blamed on others walking over their graves. She pulled her hands out of her pockets and rubbed the back of her neck.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked.
“It’s just a chill.” She stood and headed toward the door.
I followed her out. “Leaving already? I wanted to ask you about the last girl Elizabeth got expelled.”
“She won’t get rid of you. Mr. Burgh wouldn’t allow it.” After sprinting to the door, she fumbled over the latch and pulled it open. A gust of cold wind blew into the hallway, making her stagger back. “Oh!”
“What’s wrong?” My brows drew together. The flu made people lethargic, not jittery.
Maeve dipped her head and ducked around a large figure. Kendrick stood at the doorstep. The real one. And judging from the scowl marring his handsome features, he probably blamed me for what happened to his brother’s face.
My shoulders dropped. So much for getting Orlando on his knees sucking my clit.
“What do you want?” I snapped.
“You owe us.” He stepped through the threshold like he owned the place and pulled the door shut.
Despite the recent blast of cold air, the entrance hall suddenly became too warm, and the cotton fabric of my long nightgown too scratchy. I adjusted the neckline of my dressing gown and straightened.
Rolling my shoulders, I glared into his gray eyes. “You three owe me, not the other way around.”
“Because of you, Maxwell has been suspended. Again.”
I tilted my head to the side. “But it was you who went away, wasn’t it?” His nostrils flared, and triumph flared across my insides. I pulled my shoulders back and smirked. “What would the Board of Governors say about one twin taking the other’s punishment?”
“Shut your mouth,” he snarled. “Or I’ll—”
“What? Have me thrown to the dogs? In jail? You fuckers already tried that, and it didn’t work.”
“It’s that kind of foul language that got you into trouble,” he snarled.
A laugh huffed out of my chest. “Really?” This guy was so ridiculously uptight. “I thought a petty aristocrat gone mad with inbreeding had gotten us both arrested. Or is your tongue so far up Elizabeth’s ass that you forgot what she screeched to the police on Friday night?”
His lips tightened. “That’s why I’m here. Orlando says you’re not joining forces with us.”
“That’s right.”
“Elizabeth won’t stop persecuting you until you fight back.”
“What does she have against me?”
He sniffed. “You’re an affront to everything great about Templar Academy.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “You believe Elizabeth’s bullshit?”
His face dropped. “What are you talking about?”
“She’s brainwashed you into thinking everyone who isn’t her is somehow unworthy. Apart from being born into the right family, what’s Elizabeth Liddell ever done to earn anyone’s respect?”
Kendrick’s face tightened. I wanted to think it was because he had come to his senses and realized how much time he had wasted on a backstabbing viper, but I didn’t know the guy. However, watching every expression play out on his face gave me a thrill of satisfaction.
He said, “You’ll need us if you’re going to survive the next two years at Templar Academy.”
I glanced at my imaginary watch and stifled a yawn. “Send your asshole brother and best friend over to grovel. They might be irritating wankers but at least they’re not boring.”
He drew in a sharp breath through his teeth, and I gave myself a mental high-five. Kendrick might act high and mighty, but he’d been an instrumental part of Friday’s catastrophe. Without another retort, he strode to the door and turned the latch.
“One more thing.” Kendrick’s voice shook with restraint. “If you decide to join us, keep your hands off my brother. We both know you fell in love with his depiction of me.”
My eyes bulged. Did I just hallucinate that arrogant declaration? I balled my fists. “I prefer men who’ve experienced more than just their right hands.”
“Recent events prove that you enjoy divesting boys of their virginities.” With a satisfied smirk, he pulled the door open, letting in a swirl of snowflakes.
A shocked gasp escaped my lips. He made me sound like some perverted virginity thief. Kendrick straightened his red, tartan tie and strolled down the steps, leaving the door open for me to watch his back.
No way.
There was no way I would let him have the last word. I rushed to the door and yelled at his retreating back. “If you’re as identical to Maxwell as I’ve observed, I’ve already had your cock.”
Kendrick stopped at the foot of the entrance steps, his shoulders stiffening.
Triumph surged through my veins, making me add,“And let me tell you, I’ve had bigger, better, and a whole lot more satisfying.”
He bounded back up the stairs and glowered down at me, baring his straight white teeth. “Elizabeth was right about you—”
“Right about having your brother thrown in prison and beaten up by my ex?” I placed both hands on his chest, reveling in the frantic beat of his heart against my palms. Even though he acted like a frigid dick, I was getting under his skin. “Get out.”
He stepped through the threshold, his chest heaving with fury. “This is desperate even for you. If you wanted a grope, you should have asked.”
I gave him my hardest shove, but the arrogant fucker stood as steady as a boulder. He grabbed me by the wrists, still keeping my palms on his chest.
Malice glinted in his eyes. “Savor this because it’s the last time I’ll let you touch me.”
“Says the twit keeping me attached to his pecs.” I slammed my knee into his balls.
The hands encasing my wrists loosened, and his face twisted. “You—”
I ducked out of grabbing range, flung open the door and shoved him out into the cold. Kendrick stumbled onto the doorstep, moaning something unintelligible.
“You’re even more pathetic than your brother. At least he has a bit of charm to cover up for his tiny, limp dick. What do you have? Nothing.”
Kendrick snarled. “I’ll tell them you’re not coming.”
I snorted. “Meet me here after classes. I’ll decide what to do after I’ve heard your groveling apologies.”
Chapter 10
I stood at the doorstep, watching Kendrick walk down the entrance steps and across the gravel courtyard with his perfect nose in the air. My hands curled into fists, itching to make him look as busted-up as his brother.
Clearly, I’d only grazed his balls instead of squelching them to mush. How dare he suggest I had feelings for him? Up until now, we had only exchanged one conversation, and that
had even been unpleasant.
An icy breeze seeped through my dressing gown, reminding me to put on some clothes. I shut the door and rushed through the hallway and into the living room to the crack and pop and warmth of the fireplace.
“What a dickhead,” I muttered into the flames.
They danced and swayed in response.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Too light to belong to Mr. Burgh, who had left ages ago for breakfast. My hackles rose. If this was Elizabeth—I reached into the poker stand, wrapped my hand around a pair of long tongs, and crept to the door.
A young woman with chestnut hair emerged in the doorway, wearing the black and white uniform of the academy’s domestic staff
“Oh!” She jumped back, clapping her hand over her chest. “You frightened me.”
“What are you doing here?”
Her brows creased. “I’m here to clean.”
I lowered the poker. “Sorry.”
Her gaze lingered on my dressing gown. “Are you unwell?”
“I’ve been suspended.”
“Why?”
My shoulders drooped, and I walked back into the living room and placed the poker back into its stand. “Someone dressed up flour to look like cocaine and put it in my room with enough of the drugs to attract sniffer dogs.”
“Was it Myra Barnes?” she asked.
An image of the tawny-haired witch and her cold gazpacho flashed before my eyes. I whirled around. “Why do you ask?”
“Her mother used to be the housekeeper. When she died, her daughter said she couldn’t find a set of skeleton keys that opened all the doors.”
“Myra was part of the group of people standing outside to gloat when I got arrested.”
The girl nodded. “No one could ever prove she kept the keys.”
“Can’t they change the locks?” I asked.
“There are hundreds of rooms in the castle. It’s too expensive.” She raised a shoulder. “Anyway, Mrs. Campbell asked me to bring your school bag and laptop. Was there anything else you wanted from your room?”
I shook my head, thanked her, and spent the rest of the morning setting up my new bedroom into a study-sewing space. Bringing Elizabeth down was going to be difficult, especially with wankers like Kendrick who acted like he was irresistible. I sent Gideon an email, asking him to visit after classes. He might be able to give me some insights into the knights—my next target after I’d dealt with Elizabeth.
