by Sofia Daniel
I shook my head. “What happened to Mr. Weaver’s speech about tightening up discipline? She can’t be allowed to act out because her dad and brother are in jail.”
Edward rubbed the back of his neck. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she wasn’t connected to one or more of the Board of Governors.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if she wasn’t sleeping with one or more of them, either.”
He snorted a laugh. “Don’t let them hear you say that.”
“As if.”
Dr. Asgard stepped away from the group and bounded toward us with his hand outstretched. He pumped Edward’s hand and greeted him like an old friend. It was then I remembered that the doctor was also the duke’s physician. The doctor guided us through the trailer’s cool interior, which contained four beds. A nurse and six paramedics bustled about inside, getting ready for the arrival of the donors.
Charlotte stepped in behind us with Lady Seagrove. “I’m so glad Edward decided to implement my suggestion of a blood donation day. We need to contribute more to public health.”
Annoyance flared through my insides, and I clenched my fists. Edward wrapped an arm around my waist and squeezed. His signal for me to keep my cool. I gave him a subtle nod. There was no way I would make a scene in front of the Board of Governors, but there was also no way I would let Charlotte make herself look good by stealing our idea.
“Why don’t you be the first to donate?” I said.
Dr. Asgard swept his arm toward one of the beds. “It’s wonderful to see such enthusiasm in the young!”
Charlotte’s face paled. “You first.”
“Why don’t we all donate at the same time?” said Edward.
Charlotte glared at me as though I’d insulted her in front of the Board of Directors. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”
Before anyone could reply, she turned on her heel and hurried out of the trailer. I clenched my teeth, trying to keep my face neutral. Why didn’t that girl just do everyone a favor and fall down a ditch?
The doctor guided us through the blood donation process. Mr. Weaver volunteered to donate, and Lady Seagrove pursed her lips. After a few tense moments, she agreed to participate.
I lay back on the bed and smiled. If Charlotte hadn’t rushed out, the arrogant old aristocrat might not have felt under pressure to give her precious, blue blood.
Afterward, one of the paramedics set up an awning at the side of the trailer, along with tables and chairs. Edward and I stood in the shade, handing out leaflets on blood donation, welcoming donors into the trailer, and handing out drinks and snacks to everyone who had donated blood. At some point in the morning, Henry and Blake arrived to donate, but they disappeared soon after to get snacks.
Sports day turned out to be more of a village fete with the occasional game than a day dedicated to sports. Parents, staff, villagers, and the press wandered around the great lawn, sampling produce. Most gathered in the giant refreshments marquee set up at the far end, between the tuck shop and Elder House.
“Doctor!” shouted a shrill voice. Charlotte led a procession of two-dozen boys from the sixth and upper-sixth years across the lawn. “I’ve found some donors.”
Dr. Asgard rocked back on his heels. “Jolly good, Miss Underwood. With your proactivity, we may run out of blood bags!”
Raising her chin, she shot me a triumphant glare. “Yes. I’ve been working hard while some have been sitting in the sun handing out drinks.”
“Does that mean you’re ready to donate?” I folded my arms across my chest.
“She was waiting for us.” Coates slung an arm over her shoulder and guided her into the trailer.
Edward and I shared puzzled looks. Since when had Charlotte made up with all the boys she had scammed into that disastrous booze cruise?
As Charlotte’s entourage waited in line to donate, I turned my attention to the charity auction. Outside the main teaching block, Mr. Jenkins sounded more confident than usual on the stage, announcing items on the microphone which his wife held up for display.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said, voice breathy with excitement. “My next item is a six-person hamper containing bone-china crockery, stainless-steel cutlery, and a cashmere picnic rug. And of course, it comes with two bottles of vintage champagne, a vast selection of liqueurs, meats, patés, cheeses, and preserves. It comes with a weekend stay at the Mountbatten golf-course and spa, and is generously donated by Mr. Oscar Bourneville!”
As applause broke out across the lawn, both our heads turned to the outdoor auction.
I clapped my hand over my mouth. “Don’t tell me he’s here?”
“Over at the front,” Blake said from behind. “Turning around so everyone can see him.”
“Bloody hell,” Edward said under his breath.
“Why’s he here?” I turned to find Blake standing in front of our table of blood donation leaflets.
“Likely to show the world that he isn’t a heartless bastard.” Blake wrinkled his nose. “Because going to your son’s sports day makes up for informing him of his disinheritance via a one-page announcement in The Times.”
I shook my head. “Do you think he wants Henry to grovel for a piece of the Bourneville fortune?”
“Probably.”
The hamper ended up selling for five-thousand, four-hundred-and-fifty pounds. Mr. Bourneville walked onto the stage, clad in a cream boating blazer that showed off his broad frame and thick biceps. He handed the hamper to the winner and made a pompous-sounding announcement about an upcoming summer sale at his department store.
Afterward, he strolled around the lawn with Mrs. Bourneville on his arm. She wore a wide-legged pastel blue jumpsuit with a wrap-around top that showed off her golden hair and slim figure and she held a contrasting sienna-yellow clutch. Her face lit up as they approached.
“Of course,” muttered Mr. Bourneville. “My degenerate son’s lovers would have to be friends.”
“Mr. Bourneville, are you here to donate?” Edward gestured at the entrance of the blood donation trailer.
The older man narrowed his green eyes.
Blake stepped forward. “I was going to make a witty remark about getting blood out of a stone, but I was distracted by Mrs. Bourneville’s beauty.”
“How are you, dear?” Mrs. Bourneville exchanged air kisses with Blake.
“Better for seeing you.”
With a disgusted snort, Mr. Bourneville rolled his eyes. I pushed a leaflet into his hand, and I walked around the table to greet Henry’s mom.
“And Henry?” asked Mrs. Bourneville.
“Unburdened, I’d say.” Blake shot the older man a filthy look.
Henry’s mom exchanged hugs and kisses with Edward and me, while Mr. Bourneville cast impatient glances around the stalls. He probably didn’t want to admit he was looking for Henry.
I stepped back and gave him my sweetest smile. “Are you going to donate, sir? There’s a reporter inside, interviewing donors.”
With a grunt, he walked up the trailer stairs. I glared at his broad back. He obviously wanted something from Henry if he was flaunting his wealth at Mercia Academy. As far as I knew, Henry hadn’t asked for his inheritance back. Did Mr. Bourneville want his son to beg?
“Where’s Henry?” I asked.
“Getting the Pimms and lemonade.” Blake nodded in the direction of the refreshment tent, where Henry emerged with a large jug of fruit cup.
Mr. Bourneville stormed down the stairs and beckoned for Henry to meet him behind the trailer. Henry rolled his eyes, gave his mother a quick peck on the lips, and walked around to the back. Blake rushed after Henry to unburden him of his tray.
The older man cleared his throat. “The summer holiday starts next week. I’ve arranged a job for you on the shop floor of our Hong Kong branch. If you perform to my satisfaction, I may—”
“I’ve decided to pursue a career in professional rugby,” said Henry.
Mr. Bourneville snorted. “Nonsense. They kicked you
off the team.”
“And they’ve lost every match since. I’ll challenge Coates for my position at the start of next year.”
The egg-and-spoon race started, and cheers filled the lawn. I snuck around the trailer to get a view of proceedings. Mr. Bourneville’s face darkened as though he was building himself up to a rant. Henry turned around, seeming to have ended the conversation.
“Don’t walk away from me.” Mr. Bourneville grabbed Henry by the arm.
Henry spun and head-butted his father straight in the face, making the older man grunt and staggered back. My hand rose to my chest. I was pretty sure his mom wanted Henry to use words, rather than violence, to stand up to his father, but Mr. Bourneville seemed to have gotten the message.
Henry’s dad strode out from behind the trailer, clutching his hand over his bleeding nose. “Clara, we’re leaving.”
Mrs. Bourneville turned around and winked. “We’ll be between Tokyo and Hong Kong this summer. The London flat and European villas are at your disposal.”
“I hope you’re not upset—”
She rushed up at him and threw her arms around his neck. “I’ve been waiting years for you to knock that pompous ass on his behind. Things will be different the next time you meet.”
“Clara!” Mr. Bourneville hissed.
“Bye, boys. Bye, Emilia.” She spun on her heel and hurried down the magnolia path.
I stood on my tiptoes and gave Henry a kiss on the cheek. “Well done.”
Blake clapped him on the back. “You showed him.”
“Oh, fuck,” said Henry.
“What?” I glanced up into his paling face, and his wide, green eyes staring at a point beyond his retreating parents.
An even taller blonde clad in a white summer dress walked along the magnolia path. Her face was obscured by huge, black sunglasses, but her willowy figure could only belong to one person.
“Mom?”
Behind her walked four well-built men in suits, who were obviously bodyguards. But it wasn’t them who made the blood drain from my face. It was the decrepit old man who walked beside her.
Rudolph. Fucking. Trommel.
Chapter 17
The cheering from the egg-and-spoon race faded to a dull roar as every ounce of my concentration focussed on Rudolph. My pulse pounded in my ears to the beat of a war drum. What was he doing here… with Mom? Something terrible must have happened if she had left Casablanca. My mind jumped to Dad and the twins, but they were fine. I’d just seen a goofy photo he had taken the day before of the twins riding on his back.
Rudolph strode toward us with his head held high, jowls merging into a turkey neck that disappeared into a crisp, white shirt. Unlike all the other visitors who wore lightweight clothing, Rudolph wore a navy, pinstriped suit, indicating that he meant business. Even Mr. Bourneville pulled his wife behind him and stepped aside to let him pass.
My gaze darted to Mom, whose expression was as blank as a barbie doll’s, and her posture equally as stiff. A lump formed in my throat. Did he threaten her life… or mine? After everything I had learned about that reptile, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the bodyguards towering over her held a gun to her back.
“What the bloody fuck?” muttered Blake.
“Everybody, stay calm,” said Edward. “I doubt that Rudolph will make any moves in front of so many witnesses.”
“But his bodyguards might,” I muttered.
“They’re probably armed,” added Blake.
Henry stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the approaching procession of doom. “Don’t go with them, no matter what they say. Even if they threaten your mother’s life.”
My gaze flickered up his back. “Henry—”
“She wouldn’t want you to endanger yourself on her account.”
“Let’s not speculate until Rudolph has declared his intentions.” Despite his calm words, Edward’s voice strained with tension.
We didn’t speak while Rudolph took an eternity to close the distance. Neither of us handed out blood-donation brochures to passers-by.
Clearing my throat, I examined Mom’s expressionless features. This stoic act wasn’t like her at all, as she had the worst poker face ever. Scenarios whirred through my mind. Maybe Rudolph had drugged her into submission, or he’d gotten his guards to hit her where the bruises wouldn’t show.
Ignoring my rising panic, I croaked, “H-hi, Mom. What brings you to Mercia Academy?”
“Good afternoon to you,” said Rudolph.
I ignored him and continued staring at Mom, who pressed her lips together as though not wanting to give anything away. My throat dried. “M-mom?”
“Your mother has received a terrible shock, isn’t that right?” said Rudolph.
My hands balled into fists. If I had to look into his face, I would probably punch it. “What are you talking about?”
Rudolph turned his head toward the nearest bodyguard. “Axel—”
“Don’t do this.” Mom made a strangled noise in the back of her throat.
“I’ve tried to protect you from the worst of your daughter’s transgressions.” Rudolph gave Mom a pat on the arm. “This time, she has gone too far. She doesn’t care for my authority or yours. This picture is an incentive for her to come quietly… and without her three paramours. Now, Axel, please display the images.”
A stone ball of dread formed in my stomach, and I held my breath, bracing myself for digital versions of Mr. Carbuncle’s pictures.
Blake wrapped his hand around my bicep. “You can’t go with him.”
One of the bodyguards pulled out a large smartphone, tapped a few buttons, and showed pictures of a spacious, green park complete with its own pond. My brows drew together, and I squinted at the screen. The palm trees in the background indicated that it wasn’t Hyde Park or anywhere in London, and my gaze flickered up to Rudolph’s twinkling eyes.
Axel swiped at the screen, and another picture came up. My little brother and sister, Tony and Tamara.
I swallowed hard. “Why are you showing me this?”
“As I said to my devoted wife, it’s an incentive for you to listen to my proposal.”
“If anything happens to me, everyone in the academy will know you took me away.”
He inclined his head. “My men won’t stop your boyfriends from following at a distance.”
I walked the long way around the table and wrapped my arms around Edward and whispered, “I’ve got pepper spray in case things get ugly, and my phone is set to share my location.”
“Stay safe and stay quiet.” Edward drew back and cupped my face in his hands. “Listen to what he has to say, and don’t provoke him.”
With a nod, I broke away and walked at Mom’s side down the path to the main teaching block. The magnolia trees overhead provided shelter from the sun, but sweat beaded on my brow. Another guard stood at the doors to the main teaching block. He opened the doors, and we walked through the marble hallway. I tried turning around to see if the other guards allowed the boys to follow. Through the nearly solid barrier they formed, I caught a glimpse of Henry’s shoulder.
Another guard opened the door to the main entrance and guided us to a black limo that looked more like a hearse. He opened the door to reveal an L-shaped seat and a huge screen at one end of the vehicle’s interior. Playing on its screen were videos and pictures of the boys and me, mostly taken by someone outside the window of Edward’s study but some were the drunken kiss I shared with Blake and Henry at the Valentine’s ball.
Bile rose to the back of my throat. “Where did you get these?”
“A young lady at your academy was overjoyed to help me monitor your activities,” said Rudolph.
“Charlotte,” I said between clenched teeth.
Rudolph’s wrinkled face broke into a smile. “She speaks highly of you.”
Mom turned her head away from the images. “Rudolph, please, stop.”
“You have to see what kind of girl she’s become.” The old ma
n tried to turn her head back toward the screen but wasn’t strong enough to get Mom to move.
“Get off her.” I lurched forward, but one of the bodyguards blocked me with a meaty arm.
Rudolph beckoned at another guard, who forced Mom’s head up, making her cry out. I tried shoving my way to reach Mom, but the guard holding me back was as immovable as an oak.
The old reptile sat back and steepled his fingers. “As you see, my darling, your daughter has fallen into a disorder of compulsive and indiscriminate promiscuity.”
Whoever had set up this portfolio had made closeups of the boys, so it looked like I was with more than three partners. The editor had even mixed pictures of me hugging Sergei and Andreo or getting close to other people. There were also images of Tola, from the Saturday Correspondent, helping me into my corset dress.
“I’m not sleeping with all these people,” I snarled.
Rudolph widened his rheumy eyes. “Do you mean to suggest that’s a body double or clever CGI?”
My gaze flicked to a video of Edward taking me from behind while I tried to fit both Blake and Henry in my mouth. It was from a different angle to the others, likely taken from behind the door. Charlotte must have wedged the lens of her smartphone through the keyhole.
I glanced at Mom, who held her head in her hands. Her torso shook as though she was wracked in shame and misery. The sight of her crying was like a kick in the gut. I might have implied that I was having sex with the boys, but I had neglected to share that it was at the same time.
“You need help.” Rudolph leaned over and patted my knee. “There’s a specialist in Drochia, Moldova, who deals with precocious promiscuity, and he is willing to take you on in his clinic.”
Mom’s eyes bulged. “A mental hospital?”
“Indeed.” His thin lips broke into a wide grin that revealed teeth too white and too even to be anything but dentures.