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

by Sofia Daniel

  “I would never have even spoken to him if I knew he was capable of all these things.” With hands that shook so hard the glass clanked against her rings, Mom brought her water glass to her lips and sipped.

  “Then your guilt is misplaced,” added Edward.

  “Rudolph will pay for what he did to you,” Mom snarled.

  I exchanged nervous glances with Edward and Blake, wondering if they were thinking along the same lines as me. We’d all contributed to this sorry situation. The triumvirate had framed me for Henry’s abduction, which had attracted Rudolph’s wrath. Then I had negotiated to work with the Saturday Correspondent to exact my revenge, inciting Rudolph’s greed. The articles had been lucrative and had ruined the lives of many, and when I had wanted to stop, I supposed Rudolph had used Philippe’s connection with Charlotte to hurt me.

  Blake leaned forward. “What if this Philippe was acting without Rudolph’s authority?”

  Edward frowned. “Then why did Philippe engineer the booze cruise? It looks like he wanted to produce material for the paper.”

  “I’m certain he was working under Rudolph’s instruction,” said Mom. “Some of his assistants carry out unpleasant tasks. He once arranged a vehicle accident for a manager who had embezzled funds from one of his companies.” She pressed her lips together as though she’d already said too much.

  We sat in silence, picking at our breakfasts. Mom ordered a bloody Mary with extra vodka and breathed hard through her nostrils. “The police need to know.”

  I slumped in my seat and stared at the remnants of tomato juice in her empty glass. “He’ll only bribe them.”

  “So far, everyone under his protection has evaded prosecution,” said Edward.

  I raised a shoulder. “Deep pockets go a long way in escaping justice.”

  Henry arrived at the table, also dressed in a blazer and slacks. He took one look at our downcast expressions and frowned. “Am I interrupting?”

  I shook my head. “Sorry, Mom. Let me introduce you to everyone again.”

  This time, I gave a little background on each of the boys. Mom had met Blake’s mother at a few social events, and she seemed impressed that Edward’s father was the Duke of Mercia. She also recognized Henry’s last name from the department store. “Henry’s just returned from visiting the girls who drank the doctored cocktails at the booze cruise.”

  “How are they?” Mom asked in a voice that sounded hoarse with unshed tears.

  “Some have already been discharged. Mr. Jenkins was there.” Henry turned to Mom. “He’s our housemaster. He and the house matron took most of the girls back to the academy, but a few others are still being kept for observation.”

  We all blew out collective breaths of relief. Mom called over and ordered another bloody Mary and whatever else we wanted. Henry ordered a full English breakfast.

  I sipped from my glass of orange juice. The sweet liquid coated my bitter tongue and moistened my dry throat. “What about the others who had to stay?”

  “From what I heard, those are the ones who drank the most. They’re being kept back for observation, as the drugs haven’t left their systems.”

  “They overdosed,” I snarled.

  Mom shook her head. “I can’t stay married to that monster.”

  “Can you wait a little longer?” I asked.

  “Why?”

  “He’ll ask why you’re divorcing him.” My hands clenched into fists. “If you tell Rudolph it’s because he was behind my abduction, he’ll become cautious. I want to make him suffer for everyone he hurt.”

  Her gaze darted around the table. “He’s dangerous. I don’t want you to provoke—”

  “Mom, please. Just give us some time. If we can’t work out a way to make him pay without attracting his attention, I’ll drop it.”

  “He’s already gone after Emilia once,” said Blake. “Delaying divorce proceedings a little longer will give us the chance to stop him.”

  Mom twisted her napkin. She seemed to be mulling over our proposal, but the way she blinked too quickly and the confused twist of her lips told me she couldn’t decide whether to give me the chance to exact some revenge against Rudolph.

  Edward cleared his throat. “Mrs. Trommel—”

  “Call me Melinda,” she said.

  Edward inclined his head. “If it seems like Emilia’s actions will attract negative attention from Rudolph or his agents, I will personally put an end to proceedings for her own protection.”

  Mom swallowed. “How long do you need?”

  I glanced from Henry to Edward, to Blake, asking them a silent question. The conversation stopped while the waiter brought a large plate laden with poached eggs, sausages, bacon, black pudding, tomatoes, and grilled mushrooms.

  After the waiter deposited a jug of orange juice on our table, Edward spoke. “Term ends in two weeks. After that, Charlotte will leave Mercia, and we won’t see her until the start of the next academic year.”

  I turned to Mom. “Can you hold off until then?”

  She pursed her lips. “He’s expecting me back in New York next week, but I suppose I can tell him I want to go to Casablanca for a fashion expo.”

  “Don’t tell anyone you saw me,” I said.

  A tiny smile broke across her lips. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise when he finally gets what he deserves.”

  Mom changed the subject from Rudolph and asked a bunch of questions about what life was really like at Mercia Academy. The impostor had given her the impression that the faculty provided weekly excursions to London for shopping and trips to the theater. Skipping over the bullying and the prejudice and the scandals, I told her about the beautiful buildings and the quaint village outside the academy.

  Later, we walked back to the black-and-white tiled lobby. Mom needed time to check in for her flight which was in two hours, and we needed to work out a way to make Rudolph hurt.

  After the boys hugged Mom goodbye, she held me back and whispered, “Is Henry…?”

  “I’m dating him, too.”

  “Be careful.” Mom glanced at where the triumvirate stood by the Dorchester’s revolving door. “They all seem to love you. Make your choice soon before you break the other boys’ hearts.”

  I stared up into Mom’s gray eyes. How could I say this without her freaking out in the middle of the hotel lobby? “We’re all together.”

  She gave me the oddest look. It was one-part wonder, two-parts concerned, and three-parts scandalized. “You’re sleeping with them all?”

  “Not yet.”

  Her nostrils flared. “Emilia Faye Hobson,” she whisper-shouted. “What did I tell you about safe sex?”

  “Shhh!” I glanced around the lobby. No one was listening, but the conversation was embarrassing enough. “We’re being careful.”

  Her expression pinched, and she brushed off a piece of imaginary lint on my shoulder, storm clouds forming in her eyes in an expression that I recognized as her building into a rant. “I should hope so—”

  “Mom,” I snapped. “If it wasn’t for them, I would never have survived the past few weeks. They’ve done so much for me.”

  She jerked her head to one side as though slapped. Then she sighed. “More than I have.”

  “Don’t blame yourself.” I squeezed her hand. “I thought you were ignoring me, too.”

  Her chest deflated with a sigh. “But I’m your Mother…”

  “Is there anything you can tell me about Rudolph that might help us get our revenge? Something personal?”

  “Hardly.” She made a soft snort. “We haven’t even consummated our marriage. After we announced our engagement, his pre-marriage blood test was positive for syphilis. I wanted to break things off, but he persuaded me not to make him lose face.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Persuaded or threatened?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine as long as I keep the confidentiality clause in our prenup.”

  “But you’ve just told
me.”

  “And you won’t tell anyone else.”

  I shook my head. The wounds Mr. Carbuncle had inflicted were reminder enough of the brutality of Rudolph and his agents. “What does the prenup say?”

  Mom raised a shoulder. “I get nothing if I file for divorce in the first year and a sizable chunk of his fortune if he’s unfaithful. But to hell with Rudolph and his dirty money. I’ll file for divorce the moment you get your revenge.”

  A plan hatched in the back of my mind. “Is there any way you can hang on until the end of August?”

  “Emilia!” She stepped back.

  My hand closed around hers. “Don’t leave yourself empty-handed. If we work things out, you might get that sizable chunk.”

  After bidding Mom a tearful goodbye, Henry insisted that we cross the road and walk through Hyde Park to clear our heads. We stepped out of the Dorchester, crossed the busy street, and entered an expanse of green that reminded me of Central Park. Long paths meandered around a lawn dotted with huge oak trees, and the scent of roses filled my nostrils. People sat on blankets, jackets, directly on the grass, either having picnics or enjoying the sunshine.

  The boys took off their blazers, and I strolled between Henry and Edward toward a body of water in the distance.

  “At least this is one place we know isn’t bugged,” muttered Henry. “Rudolph seems to have tentacles everywhere.”

  I shook my head. “He must have planned to turn against me from the start if he’d gotten his assistant to seduce Charlotte.”

  “He’s always steps ahead of us. How do we get back at him?”

  “We can start by sweeping the academy for surveillance devices,” said Blake.

  “I have Carbuncle’s map of cameras,” added Edward.

  “How?” asked Henry.

  “It was in his filing cabinet.” Edward slipped his hands in his pockets and offered me his elbow. “I placed magnets on as many of the cameras as I could find to block the signals.”

  “You didn’t tell us that,” said Blake.

  “I wasn’t really thinking straight during the Easter break,” he said.

  The sadness in Edward’s voice squeezed at my heart. That had been at the height of my betrayal, and I still cringed every time I thought of my actions. “Edward, I’m—”

  “Don’t. We’ve had this conversation countless times. You’ve forgiven us, and we’ve forgiven you. Let’s not rehash it.”

  Without meaning to, my gaze traveled to Henry, and I met his verdant, green eyes. Unease settled in my stomach like a flock of butterflies flailing in a flood of guilt. I’d had the chance to speak with Edward and Blake about our first two terms, but every time Henry and I were alone, either lust or resentment took the forefront, and we never got the chance to open our hearts. He gave me the saddest of smiles, and my heart sank into the abyss of drowning butterflies.

  At some point, I would need to get him alone to resolve our differences.

  Up ahead, a group of boys around our age played five-a-side football. I smiled at the laughter and boisterous cheers of the scoring team. So close to the end of term, we should be having fun in the sun, not scheming ways to protect and avenge ourselves from my psychotic stepfather.

  “Who thinks Charlotte knows Philippe works for Rudolph?” Blake raised his hand.

  “She told me her boyfriend had the power to make my life miserable.” I stared into a group of swans swimming close to the edge of the water. “The way she said it implied that this man had some kind of power over me.”

  “Like access to a stepfather,” said Edward.

  “I think she’s sleeping with them both,” said Blake.

  Henry chuckled. “You’d go to any length to disparage that girl.”

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

  A shudder of disgust rippled through my gut. It was bad enough thinking of Mom kissing that old reptile. But I couldn’t see someone my age, not even Charlotte, going anywhere near Rudolph turtle-face Trommel.

  “I’d rather not think about that girl’s nocturnal activities,” said Edward, his voice clipped.

  I dipped my head to hide my smile. Whatever fumble he had shared with Charlotte when he was thirteen must have been disastrous. A group of cyclists sped past on the nearest path, blowing whistles. One of the riders had the same mousy ponytail Charlotte used to sport before she changed her hair color.

  “We already know how to get back at Charlotte,” said Henry. “The girls will destroy her when they return from the hospital.”

  “But Rudolph and Philippe will be a challenge.”

  “A sex scandal,” I said. “If we can tie Charlotte and Rudolph together—”

  “What’s the age of consent in New York?” asked Blake.

  “Seventeen,” I said. “Why?”

  His shoulders sagged. “It’s sixteen over here. I was hoping we could prove that one or both of them seduced an underage girl to get her to entrap another underage girl into a violent abduction.”

  “What if they took her somewhere with a higher age of consent?” I asked.

  Henry barked out a laugh. “There’s no way we can convince Charlotte to fuck an old man in England, let alone a place where it’s illegal for her to have sex.”

  “She’s already sleeping with Philippe,” I said. “She’s upset enough that he’s allowing her to take the fall for spiking the girls’ cocktails. We just have to get her to lure him overseas.”

  “It’s fifteen in France,” muttered Blake.

  “Fourteen in Italy,” added Henry.

  “Eighteen in California,” I said.

  All three of the triumvirate turned to stare at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  Edward sighed. “If we had a year to cajole Charlotte and the stomach to encourage such a liaison, it might be a workable idea. But we don’t. Let’s not waste any more time on this line of thinking.”

  As we continued toward the lake, the people lying on the grass wore fewer clothes, and at the banks, they sat on towels and wore swimsuits. Henry explained that this part of the lake was a natural swimming pool, and the entire body of water was built during the reign of King George II.

  I pulled my gaze away from the bathers and tried to think up ways to get even with Rudolph. We threw out ideas, ranging from recording Rudolph’s gloating confession to outright poisoning him, each as ridiculous as the other.

  Edward ran his fingers through his mahogany hair. “Regardless of what we decide, Carbuncle is still at large and still being hidden by Philippe or Rudolph. At any time, our enemies can use him as a weapon against you.”

  His warning sent a chill through my bones that not even the midday sun could warm.

  Chapter 4

  The only way I could describe Monday morning was desolate. Thick clouds covered the sky, so no natural sunlight streamed into the dining room’s tall windows. That, combined with the ten-foot-tall mahogany panels and lack of burning fireplaces made the room appear dull. It didn’t help that a quarter of the girls were missing, reminding me of the darkness that had permeated the academy.

  Many of the boys I had seen leaving the booze cruise sat together as though giving each other moral support. Coates, Bierson, and a few of the rugby boys gathered around a table at the back, leaving the dais bare.

  “Have you noticed all the sex party wankers sitting together?” Blake glowered at Henry’s former rugby teammates.

  Henry grunted. “They’re probably ashamed of themselves.”

  Edward poured himself a cup of earl grey from a china teapot, releasing the fragrant scent of bergamot. “Hopefully, they realize the danger of paying for access to unwitting girls.”

  “Let’s hope so.” I shot Patterson-Bourke a filthy look. He was the stout rugby boy with no talent for the sport who had implied to a fifth-year girl that she would warm to him at Charlotte’s party. His words and tone of voice had indicated that he knew exactly what would happen.

  The chatter dulled to a tense
silence, and I glanced around to see what had caused everyone to stop talking.

  Charlotte stood at the doorway with a crutch under one arm and the other in a loose sling. I sucked in a breath through my teeth. The wretched cow fought me with the strength of a bull last night when I had tackled her to the ground. This had to be one of her sympathy-getting tactics. I straightened, ready to call her out on her deception, but Edward placed a hand on my forearm.

  “Don’t distract the rest of the house from their grievance,” he whispered. “If you speak up against her, some might take her side over yours and forget her transgressions.”

  I gave him a sharp nod and turned back to my spinach and cheese omelet. “Will you reclaim the head table?”

  Edward shook his head, the faintest of smiles curving his full lips. “There’s no need for such an ostentatious display. Thanks to the three of you, I have everything I need.”

  “Hear, hear.” Blake nodded. “The most damning of our secrets are out, and we’ve survived unscathed. His Grace has the best care money can buy, Chaloner has disappeared to hell and taken his mobsters with him, and we have a beautiful bedwarmer who suits all our tastes.”

  My head snapped up. “Did you just compare me to a hot water bottle?”

  “She’s more like a koala,” said Edward.

  “Or a limpet,” added Blake.

  Suppressing a smile, I said, “If that’s how you feel about my snuggling, I won’t bother.”

  My eyes caught Henry’s, who dropped his gaze to his scrambled eggs and kippers. A twinge struck my heart, making me snatch my gaze away and grab a piece of toast from the rack.

  Anyone could tell he felt left out. It wasn’t like I had told him he wasn’t welcome in Edward’s room, but seeing me battered and bruised at the palace had shaken him.

  Blake had apologized for his role in my framing and subsequent detention, saying that he now realized that it had driven me to seek revenge and led me into even more trouble. Henry, however, hadn’t yet spoken with me about that incident.

  I turned my attention back to Charlotte, who still stood at the doorway, making her best impression of Charles Dickens’ Tiny Tim. My lips turned downward. It was an effort to not say something scathing. What was she waiting for, an invitation?