by Sofia Daniel
When we reached the door leading to the tower, all I could say was, “Thanks for letting me know.”
The next morning, a hush fell across the dining room when I stepped inside. Everyone stared at me. I wasn’t sure why because nothing had changed apart from gaining a piece to the puzzle that was my life. I walked over to the table I shared with Gideon and lowered myself into the seat.
He gave me a warm smile. “Sorry for not going to see you last night. My phone wouldn’t stop ringing.”
“Anyone I know?”
“Actually—”
“Hancock, Adewale,” Kendrick stood at our table. “May I join you?”
“We’re having a private conversation,” I snapped.
Gideon’s brows drew together. “What brings you to our table? You’ve never shown an interest in sitting with anyone else apart from Miss Liddell.”
Kendrick’s gaze slid to the middle table. “Elizabeth and I are no longer acquainted.”
“What does that mean?” I glanced in the direction he was looking. Elizabeth sat alone, her face a livid purple. Hopefully, this meant that her fancy father, the lord and archbishop had given her a dressing-down for yesterday’s bitchy display.
Up at the head table, Mr. Burgh stood. “Everybody, settle down. I have an important announcement.”
Without another word, Kendrick slipped into the seat next to mine, and we all turned to look at the headmaster.
“I’ve heard from several sources that a revelation was made last night about the parentage of Miss Hancock.”
Chatter filled the dining room. Everyone on the head table, including Mrs. Campbell, glowered at Elizabeth, who shrank into her seat. I sat straighter.
Elizabeth had taken her malice too far. If she had announced that I had been born in prison and that my stepfather was banged up for dealing cocaine, I’d be the one squirming right now. But she had done me a favor by dragging Mr. Burgh into the mix.
Elizabeth had proven that I was just as well-bred as anyone in this room. Who else would have gotten a girl in boarding school pregnant but one of the other boys? And if anyone wanted to fault me for the circumstances of my birth, they would just prove themselves assholes.
“I hoped to be able to share that news with Miss Hancock when she turned eighteen, but now that the information is out, let me formally welcome my beloved granddaughter, Lilah Hancock, to Templar Academy.”
Applause filled the dining room, and heat rose to my cheeks. I curled my toes, wondering what the fuck I was doing, blushing like a first year. The only thing better than being introduced as the granddaughter of Mr. Burgh would be the knowledge of my real surname.
“Congratulations,” said Kendrick.
“Thanks,” I replied. The high of being formally introduced by Mr. Burgh made the next words float out of my mouth. “And I’m sorry about Orlando and Maxwell.”
He gave me a solemn nod. “As I said yesterday, you weren’t to know someone would monitor the network.” He reached across the table and took a slice of toast off the rack. “Would you accompany me to church this Sunday?”
I was about to tell him that I had a dress to tailor when Elizabeth shot me the most hateful glower. The stupid cow blamed me for her plans backfiring. A smile stretched across my lips. With two of her knights suspended and the third defected, I wanted her to choke on regret.
“Why not?” I said. “I haven’t seen the academy’s chapel yet.”
From that moment, things changed. People called me Hancock or Burgh, which was a thousand steps up from handjob and all the other dumb nicknames.
Elizabeth kept a tight group of female sycophants, including Myra with the witchy features and the tawny hair, but most people agreed that Elizabeth had been out of line for exposing my parentage before the headmaster had a chance to share the information with me.
The days whizzed by, a blur of intelligent dinner conversation, schoolwork, and slaving over the sewing machine. By Saturday evening, I had tailored a camel dress in merino wool that would look great with a pashmina I borrowed from Miss Martin’s stores.
I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom, admiring the garment. Its neckline sat on my collarbones, and I’d cut the pattern so that it flattered my figure without making the dress appear slutty. It flared a little at the hips, and its hem sat above my knees.
Gideon gave me a gentle round of applause. “You’ve outdone yourself.”
“Miss Martin helped with the advanced tailoring.” I twisted around to get a better view of my behind. The fabric skimmed my curves, giving a tantalizing hint of ass.
“Are you sure about Kendrick?,” said Gideon. “I don’t buy his sudden interest in you. He’s spent years at Elizabeth’s side.”
“Neither do I, but I’m more interested in depriving Lizard Breath of her men.” I turned around and arranged my hair demurely on my shoulders.
It didn’t matter how much Kendrick differed from Orlando and Maxwell. He had stood by while I was the academy’s whipping girl and sided with the other knights in that sex-tape business.
He frowned. “Be careful.”
A knock sounded on my door. I snatched up the pashmina and wrapped it around my shoulders. “What time’s Lachlan driving down?”
Gideon glanced down at the screen of his smartphone. “He’s half an hour away.”
“Have fun!” I opened the door and froze.
Kendrick stood in the hallway in his church finery. A black blazer that accentuated his broad shoulders and a gray, cashmere sweater that clung to his prominent pecs. Moisture flooded my mouth, and slickness gathered between my legs. His thigh muscles bulged out from slim-fitting pants, making me wonder if he played football like Orlando.
Up until now, I thought I went for the bad boys — the ones who looked rough and ready to fuck. But there was something to be said about a clean-cut man. Especially one with an identical face and body to Maxwell’s.
His mahogany hair curled around his brow, highlighting prominent cheekbones, and giving him the air of a romantic hero in an English period drama.
The dirty girl in me wondered if Kendrick would suck my tits with the same enthusiasm as his brother, but I gave her a slap and reminded her we were going to church. Church, where respectable people like my grandfather would sit. Church, where a girl would be struck down for entertaining such wicked thoughts.
Kendrick raised a hand in an are-you-awake wave.
But as my gaze lingered on his piercing gray eyes, kissable lips, and fingers large and thick enough to pump me to a satisfying climax, I knew this church date would be a disaster before it even began.
Chapter 17
Kendrick gave me a gallant bow and offered me his arm. “I thought we might take the scenic route to the chapel.”
I took the proffered arm, enjoying the closeness while it lasted. Kendrick smelled like the ocean, a breezy scent of seawater with a hint of rosemary and bergamot. It was the complete opposite of the fiery scent of Maxwell.
“Deloraine,” said a stern voice from behind. Gideon stood at the doorway, his arms folded over his chest. “Lilah is a dear friend. If you are planning anything nefarious, there will be consequences.”
“We’re going to church,” replied Kendrick. “I’ll return Lilah to the dining room in time for Sunday lunch.”
I gave Gideon a smile. In an hour, he’d be too busy with Lachlan to worry about me. “See you later.”
Kendrick led me through the hallway. A few other students wore their Sunday best, and some donned their uniforms, which he explained was deemed appropriate for church.
I’d expected more people to make double-takes at the sight of me walking on Kendrick’s arm, but he had sat out our table every mealtime since Elizabeth had told everyone my familial background.
Maybe they expected Kendrick to stick with me now. Perhaps Elizabeth wasn’t as well-liked as I had initially thought.
Everyone headed down the hallway toward a heavy, wooden exit, which let in a cold, rose-sc
ented breeze. I stole a glance at Kendrick. He glanced down at me and gave me a rare smile.
My heart jumped into the back of my throat. What the holy hell was he planning?
As we stepped out of the side doors and walked down the stone steps, Kendrick said, “Adewale is rather protective.”
“He’s my only friend here.”
“I can’t imagine you two having much in common.”
“Elocution lessons,” I replied, not wanting to go into detail about how we had become close.
We continued down a gravel path that meandered around a stone pool. Oak trees stretched out overhead, sheltering us from the last vestiges of the autumn sun. Water lilies covered the pool’s surface, their pads housing little, brown frogs. Their croaks mingled with the rustling of the golden leaves overhead.
“Really?” he asked. “I quite liked the way you spoke before. It made you stand out from the other girls.”
“I’m surprised you noticed me with all that mooning you did over Elizabeth.”
He let out a long sigh. “We weren’t dating each other.”
“It looked like that to me.” My insides cringed with embarrassment. I hadn’t meant to sound so possessive.
“Elizabeth likes to keep an entourage of admirers. Suitors if you like.” He chuckled. “She’s styled herself after her namesake.”
My brows furrowed. “Who?”
“Queen Elizabeth the First, the virgin queen. She loved the male attention but never wanted to commit herself to a single suitor. Whoever married her would become the king and relegate her to the position of an obedient wife.”
“What about Elizabeth the Second?” I asked. “Everyone knows she’s the ruler. Same with Queen Victoria.”
“Things were very different back in the Tudor times.”
As we left the pool, I thought back about a documentary I’d seen about Queen Elizabeth I’s father, Henry VIII.
The king broke away from the Catholic church just because he wanted to marry his mistress, Anne Boleyn. And he ended up executing her on trumped-up charges when she couldn’t bear him a son. Four of his six marriages ended in divorce or execution. Not too different from modern days, the way some blokes discarded their women like used condoms.
We continued toward a wall of tall hedges with an arched entryway. The wind changed, carrying with it the sound of barking. I stiffened, and my throat dried.
“Anything the matter?” asked Kendrick.
“Where are we going?”
“To the chapel, of course.”
“Via the kennels?”
“We pass the kennel master’s domain. Don’t you like dogs?”
A shudder ran down my spine as the memory of strong arms dangling me over snapping, snarling, slathering German shepherds and Rottweilers. I pushed it to the recesses of my mind, but the sounds of barking made them creep back.
Forcing a laugh, I said, “Not since a dog barked at me the wrong way when I was little.”
“Really?” he said, disbelief dripping from his voice.
“Maybe there was more than one dog, and maybe they did more than just bark.”
He patted my arm. “I’m sorry to hear that. The hounds here are well-behaved. Just like the bloodhounds on our estate.”
“Your family hunts?” My mind conjured up an image of Maxwell dressed in hunting gear, his tattoos, and silver piercings scaring away all the pheasants.
“Father goes shooting with his friends most weekends to relax, but Mother is a breeder. She always taught us that there’s no such thing as a bad dog. It’s the person training them who’s at fault.”
“True,” I muttered.
Billy Hancock had trained his dogs to intimidate and attack. The massive brutes were well fed with meat brought in from a specialty butcher and a veterinarian on call.
Those dogs were his silent business partners, more intimidating and more trustworthy than any of his lieutenants. And they didn’t tip off the police with the whereabouts of his shipment of cocaine.
I thought about how he would terrorize people in the streets, walking them four at a time. He would even sic them on those he felt had slighted his fragile ego. What an utter bastard. I hoped prison had been hard on him.
The kennels turned out to be a stone building in the distance, set within a paved courtyard. A relieved breath slid from my lips at having avoided a panic attack. One or two dogs were fine, but for reasons I couldn’t fathom, they liked to gather around me in parks and bark their heads off. It never failed to terrify.
“Just a little further.” Kendrick pointed at another tall hedge.
It led to a pond beyond which stood a one-story, stone chapel with an arched window in the front and a matching entranceway. Its gable roof reminded me of the letter ‘A’ except splayed out to create a vast overhang on both sides of the building.
“That’s pretty,” I said.
“Would you believe Lord Liddell used to sermonize here when he was a young vicar? Elizabeth says she’s going to have it rebuilt to match the academy’s architecture as soon as she becomes the lady of the manor.”
I didn’t comment. From what I knew of the girl, she seemed preoccupied with outward appearances. We had that in common, I supposed, but I would never try to make someone feel bad for not looking like me.
The chapel’s interior consisted of rows of wooden pews separated by a wide aisle, with windows running down the length of the building.
Among pews occupied by staff, students, and faculty, I found Elizabeth in the front with three younger boys who I guessed were her new knights. She turned around and chatted with Myra and a few other girls I recognized from the common room.
My gaze skipped over her to the other side of the chapel, where Mr. Burgh sat with Mrs. Campbell, Mr. McGarr, and the other red-haired man who was probably his brother.
“Do you want to sit with your grandfather?” whispered Kendrick.
Butterflies took flight in my stomach at the reminder of having a grandparent, and warmth filled my chest. We would have dinner tonight in his private quarters, and I couldn’t wait.
With a shake of my head, I murmured, “Let’s stay at the back.”
As we took our seats, an elegantly dressed woman wearing a long, black coat strode past in a cloud of Coco Chanel. Each step of her Manolo Blahniks echoed through the church hall, making everyone turn around. Her hair was cut in a layered pixie style with chestnut highlights that looked as high maintenance as her outfit. She continued down the aisle, gave Mr. Burgh a nod of acknowledgment, and took a seat next to Elizabeth.
The vicar wore an outfit that could have been stolen from the Matrix, except with a clerical collar. I smiled, wondering what he would say.
After we sang, He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands, the vicar launched into a round of prayers and started his sermon. “Now, we’ve all heard the Parable of the Prodigal Son, but what does it actually mean?”
My stomach hardened. We all sat through Religious Education the first three years of secondary school. I hoped this sermon wasn’t going where I suspected.
The priest explained the story where the youngest of two sons demanded an early inheritance to make his way in the world, but he squandered it and returned destitute. Despite the original slight, the father welcomed him with open arms, a fine suit of clothes, and a huge party, much to the annoyance of the older brother who had stayed behind to work hard.
The vicar explained as much then added, “Not all prodigals are sons. Some daughters leave home to fall from grace, and some fall under the noses of their very fathers.”
Every ounce of blood fled my face and rushed through my speeding heart. The priest was talking about Mother. Or me. I turned my gaze to the front right, where Mr. Burgh and Mrs. Campbell leaned into each other, seeming to have a whispered disagreement.
From the way she wagged her finger under his nose, she was warning him against some rash action.
If my grandfather was anything like me, he wanted to drop-kick th
e judgmental, shade-throwing vicar.
“Remember One-Corinthians, chapter six, verse eighteen: ‘Flee from sexual immorality. All other sins a person commits are outside the body, but whoever sins sexually, sins against their own body.’”
Blood raced through my veins and surged through my ears. My hands curled into fists. If I rushed at the vicar and punched him in the face, I’d embarrass Mr. Burgh and confirm that the sermon was about Mother and me.
“As it is said in Leviticus twenty-one verse nine, ‘If a priest’s daughter defiles herself by becoming a prostitute, she disgraces her father; she must be burned in the fire.’”
A few of the younger girls whimpered. I glowered at Kendrick, who stared straight ahead, stony-faced. Of all the places we could have gone together on Sunday, it had to be where Elizabeth could humiliate me a second time.
Up at the front, Elizabeth leaned into her mother and whispered something. The woman turned around and raised her head, presumably looking for this daughter who had fallen into prostitution.
As soon as Lady Liddell turned back to the front, I rose from my seat, opened the door, and walked out of the chapel. That was even lower than Elizabeth’s after-dinner presentation on Monday. I wondered what the bible said about using its texts to help wealthy people settle scores.
The wind blew through my hair, cleansing me of the vicar’s toxic words. I sucked in a deep breath and strode back toward the hedges that led to the academy. If Kendrick dared to approach me, I would slam my fist into his face.
“Lilah, wait!” he shouted.
I picked up my pace and readied my fist.
As soon as he grabbed my arm, I whirled around and hit him in the face.
“Ouch!” His head snapped back, and he cupped his nose with both hands. Hopefully, I had made it bleed.
“Why?”
I shoved him hard in his chest, but he didn’t flinch. “Thanks for walking me into an ambush. Now that you’ve got what you want, you can bugger off back to Elizabeth!”
Chapter 18