by Sofia Daniel
I frowned throughout the explanation, wondering what on earth Mr. Burgh thought about the lifestyle Mother and I had led. And what would he say when he discovered that I had framed Orlando and Maxwell to look like they were having a gay clinch and gotten them suspended?
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I have a confession to make.”
He leaned forward. “What is it?”
“Kendrick Deloraine told me why his brother was suspended.”
His brows furrowed. “The boys should never have conducted the physical part of their relationship in the academy, let alone broadcasted it on the internet.”
“I did that.”
“What?” He dropped his fork into the chicken and dumpling stew. “You were in the room with them?”
I explained everything, starting with meeting them in a nightclub and overhearing their plans to lure me into Orlando’s room to film a sex tape. Mr. Burgh scowled throughout my story but didn’t interrupt.
At the part where I tricked the boys into allowing me to handcuff them, he rolled his eyes.
By the time I finished, his entire posture sagged. “Delilah,” he said with a long sigh. “Have you done anything like this before?”
“Of course not.”
He massaged his temples. “It wouldn’t be the first time that video clips of female students in compromising positions have done the rounds at the academy. I now suspect those boys were the culprits.”
Egged on by Elizabeth. I didn’t voice that suspicion. Right now, half the school was still disgusted with the way she had outed me, which was enough. And I didn’t want to make accusations before I had any concrete evidence.
Mr. Burgh placed his hand on mine and fixed me with a stern gaze. “I don’t want you to end up like your—”
“I’m nothing like her.” I pulled back my arm and wrapped it around my middle. “Maybe that’s how it looks on the surface with us both living with dealers, but I have dreams. I want to be more than someone’s woman.”
He frowned. “You’re not going to become a dress designer by messing about with boys.”
“I knew what I was doing that night. I still do.”
“You had better,” he said. “Now that everyone knows our connection, I won’t be able to protect you from accusations of lewd conduct.”
“I know.” I placed my hand on his. “In the future, I’ll keep my lewd conduct to Glasgow weekends.”
His eyes hardened. “It’s no laughing matter.”
My shoulders slumped with a mixture of exhaustion and defeat. I’d never had anyone look out for me, and it was strange but not unappreciated. At the same time, he was right to warn me.
Mr. Burgh had taken a risk in bringing me here, exposing himself to someone dredging up a scandal that would have been upsetting to him and his late wife. I wasn’t about to repay his generosity by getting myself pregnant or getting caught in Orlando and Maxwell’s games.
“Sorry,” I murmured. “This is the last time I’ll ever disappoint you.”
The smile he gave me was wry. It was the expression I’d seen on police officers who had heard similar heartfelt promises, only to know they’d be broken at the next opportunity.
“What will you do about Orlando and Maxwell?” I asked.
“I’ll speak to the Board of Governors and see if it makes a difference that they didn’t upload the video to the internet.”
I gulped. “What will you say about me?”
“I’ll keep your name out of the discussion.”
“Thanks.”
The following Sunday, Mr. Burgh paraded me around the village like a trophy, introducing me to everyone as his granddaughter. It had been odd at first, as people immediately remembered Mother and what she had done, but after the initial shock wore off, they were friendly and curious about where I had lived.
Later, I discovered from Kendrick that the board had cut down Orlando and Maxwell’s suspension to just a month, and they would return to the academy for the last few weeks of term. Hopefully, my intervention had softened their thirst for vengeance, but I had severe doubts.
Chapter 20
The next Saturday afternoon, I sat in Miss Martin’s classroom, trying to get the neckline right for a backless catsuit I needed to complete in time for the next Glasgow weekend. The whirring of sewing machines on my left and right filled my ear, drowning out the chatter of younger girls making a basic circle skirt.
Miss Martin wore charcoal-and-black tartan pants with a matching halter neck waistcoat, her hair piled on her head, secured with long hairpins. The only color in her ensemble came from her electric blue lipstick. The first and second years crowded around her, demanding help.
I shook my head, left my machine, and walked over to one of the tables to finish the neckline by hand. Students of all years were welcome in tailoring club, but it meant that the younger ones took up the teacher’s time with their constant questions.
“What’s that?” Maeve, the red-haired girl, took the seat next to mine.
I held it up. “Another clubbing outfit.”
“But you finished that asymmetrical dress. Aren’t you going to wear that?”
A smile crossed my lips. Gideon had loved his outfit, but I wasn’t about to tell her I hadn’t made it for myself. “A girl can never have too many clothes.”
She shook her head. “The way you sew, you could sit your exams now and get an A.”
With a laugh, I reached across the table and grabbed a box containing spools of thread. “Then I’d miss out on the chance to make new clothes.”
By the time I turned back to my catsuit, it was gone. A giggle from behind made me whirl around in my seat.
Elizabeth stood over me, holding my garment in one hand and a pair of sewing shears in another. My heart jumped into my throat, and I surged up to snatch at the catsuit.
She jumped back and cut a hole around its middle. “How clumsy of me!”
“You did that on purpose,” I snarled.
She widened her eyes. “I was looking for scrap fabric to make a pincushion.” Dropping my catsuit to the ground, she held up the cut fabric like it was a trophy. “Perfect.”
Blood roared in my ears, demanding that I do something now to teach her never to mess with a Hancock. But a small voice in the back of my head reminded me of what I had to lose by acting rashly. A home. A promising career. A grandparent. My nostrils flared, and I balled my hands into fists.
Maeve rushed over with Miss Martin, who picked up my catsuit and examined the damage. Elizabeth raised her head and smirked as though she was untouchable. It was the kind of expression I itched to slap off her pasty face.
Miss Martin shook her head. “If you spent more time improving your skills, you wouldn’t need to destroy the work of others.”
“That’s true.” Maeve placed her hands on her hips. “Everyone knows Lilah’s the best dressmaker in the academy.”
Other girls murmured their agreement.
Elizabeth’s jaw dropped. She glanced from side to side, her mouth flapping but not forming any words. I would have felt vindicated if I hadn’t already spent a week making that catsuit. If I started again, there’d be no time to finish it in time for the next Wank.
“Shut up!” Elizabeth stamped her foot. “I’m just as talented as anyone in this room.”
“What have you ever produced?” I snapped. “Pincushions?”
She forced her features into a smirk. “Unlike you, I’ll inherit the kind of wealth that means I won’t ever have to work. If you’re lucky, I might hire you to make my servants’ uniforms.”
I shook my head. “Are you too pathetic to take care of yourself now? You need an army of women to wipe your ass?”
Giggles filled the classroom. Elizabeth glanced from left to right, her cheeks turning pink. “You’re the one who can’t sew to save your life.”
“Enough,” shouted Miss Martin. “If you want to battle Miss Hancock, do so at the end of term Christmas charity a
uction in Glasgow. Everyone is allowed to enter a hand-made item. The one that earns the most for their creation will be the winner.”
Elizabeth stuck her nose in the air. “That’s hardly a challenge. I already consider myself Hand-Cock’s superior.”
“And I’ve never been so insecure as to see another girl as competition,” I snapped. “All these jabs you’ve made at me since I’ve joined, it’s like you’re desperate for me to notice you. What the hell do you want? A date?”
Her face paled. “What are you implying?”
“I don’t know. You surround yourself with the best-looking guys in the school, but you keep them at arm’s length.”
“That’s true,” said Maeve, the red-haired girl.
Myra, the witch-faced ass-licker, wrapped an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulder and murmured into her ear. “Ignore those jealous cows.”
“I’m saving myself for marriage.” Elizabeth picked up a box of pins.
“Put those down.” Miss Martin stepped between Elizabeth and me, forming a barrier.
My heart thrummed in my chest. The crazy bitch had better not throw them. Everyone, including Myra, backed away.
All the sounds of sewing stopped, replaced by shocked silence. A few of the younger students sensibly fled the room. I took several steps back, taking myself out of throwing range of the pins.
“We can’t all be whores like your mother.” Elizabeth pulled out a chair and stood on its seat, negating Miss Martin’s body shield. “I don’t want to end up pregnant and married to a drug dealer.”
I clenched her teeth. “Getting pregnant doesn’t make a woman a whore, but marrying for money might.”
Her face dropped. “Are you insinuating that Mama—”
“You’re the one slapping that label on other women!”
She flung the box in an arc, showering Miss Martin and one half of the classroom with pins. Screams filled the air. I jogged backward, my stomach dropping at the thought of Miss Martin getting hurt. The teacher curled forward, her hands over her face.
Some of the older students rushed toward Miss Martin, who had gotten the brunt of the flying pins. Elizabeth walked the length of the table to where I stood and jumped down, her red face twisted into a snarl. “What are you going to do now?”
“You’re deranged.” I balled my fists. The crazy bitch wanted me to lash out and get myself expelled. It wasn’t going to happen.
Elizabeth jabbed me in the chest. “Violent criminals don’t deserve to be here.”
“Then leave.” I swiped out my arm, but she snatched her hand away before I could connect my strike.
A peal of laughter slipped from her lips, and she pointed at a pair of sewing shears on the table. “There’s your weapon. Stab me through the gut and throw me down the stairs, just like you did to your pedophile boyfriend!”
Fury surged through my veins, taking hold of my senses. How the fuck did she know about Sammy? I raised my hand to punch her across the face. Elizabeth’s arm shot out as fast as a cobra, and before I knew it, she twisted me around into a painful arm-lock.
“Did you see that, everyone?” Elizabeth snarled. “She tried to stab me!”
Pain burned around the socket of my arm. It stretched up my shoulder, down my side, forcing me to double over to release the pressure of her hold.
“Miss Liddell,” shouted the fashion teacher. “You are hereby banned from tailoring club. Release Miss Hancock at once!”
“Watch your mouth,” she snapped. “If my father discovers you’re protecting violent whores, you’ll be back in the garrets of Paris, shooting heroin.”
Loud gasps filled the air. Despite the agony, a shocked breath escaped my lungs. Had she made that up? I clenched my teeth, my eyes. My fighting instincts urged me to kick out at Elizabeth, to flip her over, but I knew enough about dislocated shoulders not to risk it.
“Stop it!” cried Maeve. “What if you break her arm?”
Elizabeth gave my arm an excruciating yank. “Shut up, you ginger-haired trollop! I’m not letting go until Hand-Cock agrees to leave the academy.”
“I’m. Not. Leaving,” I snarled. The time for higher ground and turning the other cheek was over. As soon as she released my arm, I would make her regret ever having fucked with me.
“That’s it,” Miss Martin snapped. “I’m calling the headmaster.”
Elizabeth gave my arm another painful twist and booted me hard in the backside. I stumbled forward and crashed into a table, knocking down a box. Spools and bobbins spilled all over the floor.
I righted myself and spun around, just as the wretched cow upturned a table and raced out of the classroom. With a snarl, I lurched forward, but Miss Martin stepped in my path with her arms raised.
“Don’t go after her.” Pins protruded from the woman’s jet-black hair.
“If I let her get away with—”
Miss Martin placed her gnarled hands on my shoulders and gave me a shake. “Listen to me!”
I blinked up at the older woman, confusion cooling my fury. My pulse slowed, and I exhaled long breaths.
Before I could ask what she was doing, Miss Martin spoke. “I’ll report Miss Liddell’s behavior to both the headmaster and the Board of Governors. If anyone would like to write a witness statement, outlining the impact today’s behavior has had on your ability to feel safe at the academy, it will be much appreciated.”
My shoulders sagged. Rushing after Elizabeth would probably get me suspended or expelled. She had come at me deliberately and likely had a plan of action. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wanted to lead me into a trap.
Miss Martin closed down tailoring club early, and we all helped her pack up. As everyone left the room, she beckoned me over and asked me to sit on one of the tables.
“You mustn’t let a girl like Elizabeth Liddell distract you from a bright future in fashion.”
“I can’t let her continue to attack me.”
“She won’t be allowed into any classroom of mine, and I will recommend that the faculty ban her from rooms where she can turn the equipment into weapons.”
I ran a hand through my platinum locks and sighed. “Why does Elizabeth even bother?”
“This pattern of behavior happens all the time.” The teacher stretched my catsuit across a cutting table and drew a chalk shape around the hole. “Elizabeth Liddell has had everything a girl could want for. Beauty, intelligence, and a great start in life, yet she can’t distinguish herself among the other students.”
Wincing, I rubbed my throbbing shoulder. “Acting like a bitch isn’t going to make her grades any better.”
“But it might discourage the other girls from standing out.” She created another shape around the bust area. “Then you come along with your rough edges and raw talent, and it’s infuriating for a girl like her.”
“You think she’s jealous?”
“Darling, I’ve worked among bitches that make her look like Mary Poppins.” Miss Martin made a few snips in the fabric, creating the beginnings of a sexy keyhole. “Now, I’m going to show you how to turn this disaster into something devastatingly edgy.”
Chapter 21
Rumors spread around the academy about Elizabeth’s ‘breakdown,’ which were exacerbated by sightings of her mother sitting between Mr. Burgh and Mrs. Campbell the following day at lunchtime.
The scent of roasted chicken, sage and onion stuffing filled the dining room, which buzzed with chatter and speculations.
According to Kendrick, who continued to sit with us despite my refusal to date him, Elizabeth hadn’t been at church. My mind conjured up an image of her in a silken straight jacket thrashing in the back of a padded van rushing to an institution.
Lady Liddell glowered at our table. I met her green-eyed gaze, not allowing the older woman to intimidate me.
“Lilah,” Gideon’s voice snapped me out of the staring contest.
I turned around to meet his concerned, ebony eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Do
n’t agitate the Liddells,” he said. “They run the Board of Governors and can overrule the headmaster whenever they want. I’m not sure what Elizabeth has against you, but it runs deeper than schoolgirl rivalry.”
“I think Lady Liddell was glowering at me,” said Kendrick.
“Why?” I asked.
“Our parents really wanted things to work out between Elizabeth and one of us.”
Gideon leaned forward. “I thought the Liddells wanted to join forces with the Nevis brewery empire.”
Kendrick smiled. “Orlando lost interest in her last year around the same time as Maxwell. With me gone, I think her parents will want to match her up with one of the younger boys.”
“What does your family do?” I asked.
A server ladled us potions of broccoli and cheddar soup, which made my mouth water.
Kendrick raised a shoulder. “Nothing apart from managing the land we inherited.”
Gideon snorted. “The Deloraine family controls about ten percent of all the farmland in Scotland.”
My mouth fell open, and I turned to Kendrick, who gave me a sheepish smile. “Thirteen percent. But never mind me. I can’t believe Elizabeth screamed at you to stab her.”
I dipped my head, not wanting him to bring up what she had said about Sammy. She’d made him sound like he had lured me into the life we had led when I’d been the one to lie about my age.
“Let’s not talk about her anymore,” I said.
“Are you looking forward to next week?” Kendrick asked.
My gaze slid to Gideon’s sparkling eyes. Lachlan had invited us to have lunch and get changed at his city center apartment. We shared wide grins. “Might be.”
“Maxwell says he can’t wait.”
My brows creased. “What’s he got to do with anything?”
“Don’t you remember?” Kendrick asked. “He and Orlando are returning from being suspended.”
A groan slipped from my lips. I had no doubt the perverted pair would plan something nasty and humiliating in revenge for getting them into so much trouble.
