Kings of Mercia Academy 1-4: The Complete Bully Romance

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Kings of Mercia Academy 1-4: The Complete Bully Romance Page 51

by Sofia Daniel


  “Thanks.”

  She paused at the door, and her gaze flickered from my face to the carpeted floor.

  My brows drew together. “Was there anything else?”

  “The abduction made the front page of the papers.” Before I could react, she added, “Your name wasn’t mentioned, but the article said that Mr. Carbuncle was caught sexually assaulting a girl in Mercia Academy, whose parents are pressing charges. And other girls are coming forward with complaints.”

  “Oh.” I stared into her dark eyes.

  “I brought the morning-after pill and an STD test kit. It won’t take—”

  “H-he didn’t go that far,” I said. “I mean, he groped me over my clothes and threatened to rape me, but the other man stopped it.”

  Her gaze dropped to a spot on the end of the bed. “But you were unconscious for some time in your abductors’ presence…”

  Revulsion shuddered through my belly. Surely, I would have noticed something. Both times I had slept with Edward, I’d felt a pleasant ache afterward. If Mr. Carbuncle had done something to me while I’d been knocked out, I would definitely have felt something. Or he would have gloated about it, at least.

  “I didn’t feel strange down there when I woke up.”

  Nurse Priya drew back. “Very well. Everything is healing as it should. I will return tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.”

  As the door clicked shut, a mantle of unease settled over my shoulder and seeped into my skin, casting the explanation I’d given the nurse into doubt. Charlotte’s brother had been the one to drag me to the apartment. He didn’t seem the type to violate a woman while she was unconscious or to allow a man to do it in his presence, but what the hell did I know about him?

  I would have to call Jackie to see if she or her interns had noticed anything untoward in the footage.

  Chapter 19

  Later that evening, I insisted that the boys return to the academy. Three pairs of eyes on my hideous face, combined with Henry oscillating between shock and fury, Edward scheming about how to get even with Charlotte and Carbuncle, and Blake’s over-attentiveness was too much for me in my current state. The painkillers dulled my senses, and after the shower, the bruises had hardened, making it difficult to speak. Henry and Edward left, promising to call every day, while Blake remained. It was his bedroom, after all.

  We spent Monday in silk pajamas, sitting on his chaise lounge with my back leaned against his chest and my head resting on his shoulder. Blake wrapped his arms around me and read stanzas from the poem Don Juan, by Lord Byron. With his perfect, British pronunciation, he brought the work to life, making me giggle at the naughty parts.

  I twisted around and gazed into his chocolate-brown eyes, noticing for the first time their flecks of golden brown. “You’re a bit like Lord Byron.”

  His dark brows rose, and a smile curved his full lips. “How so?”

  “Mad, bad, and dangerous to know.”

  Blake’s low, deep chuckle vibrated against my back, and he ran a hand down the silk fabric covering my hip. “Don’t you think Edward’s more byronic than me?”

  “Byronic, yes. When I first met him, he was mysterious and moody.” I smirked. “You both have Lord Byron qualities.”

  He placed a kiss on the tip of my nose. “I’ll consider that the ultimate compliment. Especially since he had a proclivity for getting ladies into trouble.”

  I dipped my head and laughed so hard, my ribs ached. Then Blake put down his copy of Don Juan and changed the subject. It turned out that we had more in common than I’d originally thought. Both our fathers had been addicts who had disgraced themselves in the papers, and both our mothers had been models who had married rich. We’d both had our childhoods blighted by divorce, and neither of us had a place we considered home.

  During a lull in the conversation, I told Blake what Nurse Priya had said.

  His face clouded. “You have to call Tom or Tola and ask to see the footage.”

  “I don’t think I can relive that just yet.” I glanced down at my hands. The rope marks on my wrists had already faded into dull streaks of pink.

  Blake wrapped his arms around me and pressed a kiss on my temple. “Sorry, I didn’t think. If the story has already hit the news, maybe one of those interns has already seen all the footage. Who do you normally speak to at the newspaper?”

  I got hold of Jackie, who confirmed that neither man had taken off my clothes or sexually assaulted me while I had been unconscious. She sounded a little distant, and I wasn’t sure if it was because she felt bad about what had happened to me or disappointed because Blake had rescued me before the abduction could progress into a more sensational story. She didn’t mention Rudolph, and I didn’t ask. As far as I was concerned, I was done with the Saturday Correspondent.

  On Wednesday, Nurse Priya uncovered my bandages to find that the bruises had healed a lot quicker than she had anticipated, and later that evening, Dr. Chumley-Stokes visited to give me a final check up.

  He drew back from my ribcage and smiled. “Ah, the benefits of youth!”

  My cheeks warmed as the nurse replaced my bandages. “I also started using Mrs. Simpson-West’s bruise salve yesterday.”

  He grunted his approval. “Marvelous stuff. Well, I’m delighted with your progress. Continue taking the pain-killers every four hours, but refrain from sports or any strenuous activity until you obtain the approval of the academy doctor.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The doctor stood and opened the door.

  Blake stepped into the room. “What’s the verdict?”

  “Miss Hobson is well enough to return to the academy.” He clapped Blake on the shoulder and left with the nurse.

  On Thursday morning, I lay in the back of his mother’s Rolls Royce, stretched out on the seat with my head on Blake’s lap. I smiled into Blake’s adoring gaze, my heart warm and giddy that he was now looking me full in the face. Most of the swelling on the left side of my mouth had faded, and my gaze flickered down to Blake’s lips.

  He curled his fingers into my hair and let out a happy sigh. “You’re almost like your old self.”

  I smiled back. “Thanks to you. Who knows what might have happened if you hadn’t found me in time?”

  “It doesn’t bear thinking about.” His hand stilled. “Carbuncle is out there somewhere. If he has any sense, he would leave the country, but I think he might return to Mercia.”

  The lining of my stomach rumbled with dread. “Would he be that stupid?”

  “He’s that greedy,” replied Blake. “If Peter Underwood placed an idea in his head that you’re worth a million in ransom, he might seek you out and try again.” He reached down and intertwined his fingers with mine. “Each of us has classes with you. We’ll make sure you’re never alone.”

  I nodded, caught in his hard gaze. The leather seat beneath me creaked, the sound adding to my trepidation.

  “No more sneaking off to be on your own.”

  My throat dried, and I gulped. “I-I’ll be careful.”

  “At night, you’ll sleep in Edward’s room. He’s the only one of us with a double bed.”

  “Y-yes.” My chest tightened at the thought of Mr. Carbuncle lurking in the grounds, waiting for the right time to catch me unawares. Blake must have been thinking the same as his eyes turned bright, and he swept a shaking hand across his forehead. My chest tightened, and my stomach twisted into several noisy knots.

  His brows drew together. “You’re hungry.”

  I placed my hand on my stomach. “But I ate breakfast.”

  “Not enough, clearly.” Blake told the driver to take the next exit out of the freeway and head toward Lake Wessex. “The servants always pack a little hamper when I return to school. We can find a quiet spot and eat there.”

  Lake Wessex turned out to be a huge body of water surrounding a small island with castle ruins. Brown, marbled ducks swam in the water among black swans with red bills. A group of men swam in the dista
nce, their wet heads glistening in the sunlight. Blake explained this was also a natural swimming pool.

  We sat beneath a weeping willow on a woolen picnic blanket with a red tartan pattern interlaced with green and blue, which Blake explained came from his father’s ancestors, the Simpson clan in Scotland.

  “This used to be one of my favorite spots when I was younger.” A wistful smile touched his lips, and his eyes unfocused. “It would be just Father and me. He would row me to that island and tell me stories of the adventures he had with his chums while at Mercia Academy.”

  I leaned into his shoulder and raised our laced hands, enjoying how the sun streamed dappled light onto our skin. “Was he there at the same time as Edward’s dad?”

  “Father was five years older than the duke.” He beckoned over a thin boy about our age, dressed in green fishing waders that stretched up to his chest and rubber boots that reached his thighs. “By then, he was already in Elder House so didn’t mix with many of the lower year pupils.”

  The boy rushed over and stood by the edge of the blanket, bouncing on the balls of his feet and making his rubber boots squeak. Blake reached into the inside pocket of his navy jacket, pulled out his wallet, and extracted a twenty-pound note. The boy gave him a jaunty salute and scurried away.

  Pushing aside thoughts of how it must feel to see his step-grandmother each time he used money, I asked, “What are you doing?”

  Blake drew back and grinned. “Taking you to Penda Castle, of course.”

  I glanced across the lake at the ruins and sucked on the right side of my lip. “Isn’t that a special place for you and your dad?”

  Blake stood and held out his hand. With eyes that shone with sincerity and seemed to stare into my soul, he said, “This is the first time I’ve been here since before Mercia Academy, actually.” I took it, and he pulled me up. Nurse Priya’s dressings were so tight, the movement hardly hurt. “Lake Wessex reminds me of empty promises and lost hope. Father should have been able to move on from Mother’s betrayal, but he spiraled into despair, and despite numerous interventions, he succumbed to his demons. Whenever I think of this place, it makes me sad. But now I’d like to make some happy memories.”

  A flock of butterflies fluttered their wings. Something in the tone of his voice told me that he intended for us to be together for a very long time, if not forever. The intensity of his chocolate-brown gaze made my heart quicken, and I turned to the water and watched it ripple over the reflection of the ruins.

  Forever was a long time, but after spending days alone with Blake and finally getting to see the real person beneath the mask of humor and flirtation, I found someone I could trust with my heart.

  The boy pushed a rowboat around the lake’s perimeter and waved us over.

  Blake took my hand and led me out from under the willow tree, across a short lawn and to the bank of the lake.

  My throat dried. I’d never been in a rowboat before, but Blake was a member of the academy’s boat club and had occasionally mentioned wanting to follow his father’s footsteps and row for Balliol College in Oxford.

  As we reached the boat, I asked, “Have you ever had to worry about kidnapping threats?”

  “I have.” He stopped a few feet away from the boat and cupped the right side of my face in his hand. “But when the reporters told me you’d been taken, it was the most frightening time of my life.”

  “I’m sorry for not listening to you,” I whispered.

  He smoothed the hair off my left temple and tucked it behind my ear. “How were you to know that going to a party in London would result in an abduction?”

  My throat thickened, and I swallowed hard. “I should have been more suspicious. This new version of Charlotte is even worse than ever.”

  “She was always nasty,” he replied. “When the tabloids published photos of Mother and the prince while she was still married, she was the first to rally the others to call her a trollop.”

  The sun disappeared behind a thick cloud, and a cool breeze blew through the cashmere sweaters Blake had lent me for the journey back to the academy. Based on what I had seen of Charlotte in my first term, I would never have guessed that there had been an acrimonious history between her and Blake. “What made her change her attitude?”

  “Edward and Henry being on my side, and Mother becoming the Duchess of Surrey by marriage.” He continued stroking my hair. “But I never forgot the trouble she started for me.”

  My lips curved into a half smile, and I placed my hand over his heart. Its slow, steady rhythm quickened. “Is that why you had her suck you off in exchange for getting closer to Henry?”

  “Henry would never have been interested in someone so simple-minded. And yes, I wanted her to feel a little of how she and her friends had made me feel during one of the worst times of my life.”

  I squeezed his hand. “It can’t be easy seeing your Mother displayed in the paper like that.”

  “She was the least of my worries. It was father who kept me up at night.”

  Something in the background disturbed a flock of ducks, which took flight with noisy quacks. I spotted them flying away in the corner of my eye and turned my gaze back to Blake. Pained lines etched the skin around his eyes, making my heart twist in empathy. “You couldn’t sleep because of his drinking?”

  He dipped his head. “Not knowing where he was or what he was doing. Strange phone calls late at night, saying goodbye and thanking me for being a good son.” A tiny shudder shook his shoulders. “It was terrifying. Mother had washed her hands of him after the divorce because of his violent rages, so he only had me.”

  I gulped. “That’s why she knew so much about bruises?”

  “That’s part of it. Yes.”

  I bit down on my lip, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, I asked, “Is she still being—”

  “It’s not something I can handle right now.” Blake blurted the words so quickly, they took a moment for my brain to parse. “I can’t persuade her to leave. She loves the attention of being married into the royal family, and nothing will make her let go of that.”

  “My mom’s like that with Rudolph, I think.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “She hasn’t replied to any of my messages since I left the country.”

  He stilled, and his gaze dropped to the side, as though he didn’t know where to look. I couldn’t blame him. At least his mother hadn’t shoved him out of the palace to cozy up with the prince. And she’d sort of stood by him during the scandals, even if her methods of support had been twisted and sick. Mom had just ghosted me, and if I hadn’t had so much shit to deal with at the academy, I might have succumbed to the loss.

  “I’m… sorry.” He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and gave me a gentle hug. “Did she do the same the last time she married?”

  My eyes fluttered closed, and I lost my self in his cedar scent. “No, but that guy was a corporate real estate investor and didn’t have the fame or vast fortune of Rudolph Trommel.” I shook my head. If Mom wanted to upgrade her life and leave her daughter behind, there was little I could do to change that. “It hurts less each day. Knowing that you and Edward are here for me is enough to negate the effect she’s had on my life.”

  “And Henry,” he added in an admonishing tone.

  We continued across the lawn and to the lake, where the boy waited for us with an impatient frown. Blake helped me onto the plank at the pointed end of the rowboat, which acted as a seat. Then he took off his jacket, got onto the boat, and the boy pushed it into the water until it was waist deep.

  As Blake rowed, he said, “Henry was devastated when Edward told us you were the leak. Last term, he thought you’d settled your differences. It was a huge blow to him to discover you hadn’t forgiven him.”

  I pursed my lips and gazed at his shoulder muscles rippling under his fitted sweatshirt. Right now, Henry was the biggest mystery of the trio. Sometimes the most loving and the one I felt the deepes
t connection with, and other times, a dismissive lout only interested in sex. “We couldn’t agree over getting him to clear my name.”

  “He had his reasons. If you give him a chance, he’ll explain himself.”

  I shrugged.

  Without missing a stroke, Blake fixed me with a hard stare. “Just promise me that you’ll stay with one of us at all times, even if it’s Henry.”

  I nodded. “Even if it’s Henry.”

  He continued rowing across the lake until we reached the little island. Up close, the ruins were more intricate than from the other end of the bank. Instead of an empty, stone shell, there were room partitions, indoor arches, and even a staircase that protruded out from the internal walls.

  Blake helped me out of the boat, stepped off, and placed a hesitant hand on my waist. His gaze wavered from my eyes to my lips, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. It was as though he wanted to kiss me but was afraid I would reject him.

  His hand dropped from my waist and wrapped around his chest. “You were right.” He gulped. “I did it on purpose.”

  “What?” I stared into his lowered eyelids.

  “Didn’t convince you hard enough not to call the police.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It was selfish. Edward had told us both to back off and give you space, and I was sick of all the dance lessons with Yelverton and her friend acting as chaperones. I wanted you to come back the next day and the day after that to talk about the kidnappers.”

  I blinked a few times. Blake hadn’t told me anything new, but I hadn’t expected he had wanted us to become closer. “You didn’t guess I would call the police, then?”

  “I didn’t think you would be so decisive, no.” He held his body stiff like a person waiting for the blow to strike.

  My heart melted. After that extraordinary rescue and the loving care he’d administered over the past days, how could he doubt that I would forgive him? When his eyes flickered to mine, realization slotted into place. Our past, the pranks he had committed against me, were holding him back. Or rather, the guilt he carried for having hurt me so much.

 

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