Page 50 of Revenge

Most of the students turned back to their conversations and meals, as though the matter was resolved and now old news.

I glanced around the room, breathing hard, and holding my features steady to hide my reaction. Was that it? A few drawled words and a mild shunning? I hadn’t expected them to make her do a walk of penance, but I thought she would get a taste of what it was like to be blamed for something she didn’t do. Now that the attention had left her, Charlotte’s posture sagged, and she walked out of the dining room.

I blew out a long sigh. It looked like Charlotte might come out of this scandal unscathed.

Blake tried to make conversation with Edward, who seemed preoccupied. I peered at him through the corner of my eye. Color hadn’t yet returned to his face, and the hand that held his teacup trembled.

I was about to ask if anything was the matter, when Mr. Carbuncle walked into the dining room, holding a giant box. I sat up. All mail was delivered to the entrance hall with packages placed on the table. For him to make a huge show of the boxes, it had to be one of Charlotte’s mysterious gifts.

“Package for Hobson,” he announced in a loud clear voice.

The chatter and clink of silverware on plates halted, plunging the room once again into silence. My brows drew together. Jackie was the only person likely to send me packages, but she wouldn’t be so indiscreet as to have something delivered to Elder House.

“Are you sure it’s for me?” I asked.

“Unless there’s another Emilia Hobson here in the house,” he snapped.

“Carbuncle, you overstep your place!” Edward’s words were sharp.

The janitor dipped his head. “Begging your pardon, Miss Hobson. Yes, I’m sure it’s for you.”

Henry snickered. “I know what it is. Take it to her room, so she can go through them in her own time.”

Mr. Carbuncle inclined his head and walked out of the dining room with the package. A sea of cold faces turned to me, their eyes demanding an explanation. I bristled and held my orange juice to my lips. They hadn’t been so hostile to Charlotte, whose father had been caught stealing from the government, yet they shot me accusing stares because the janitor brought a simple package to stir up shit?

I leaned into Henry. “What is it?”

His grin widened. “Coats.”

A pulse shot through my core, and my cheeks warmed. I could still feel the press of his thumbs on my inner thighs, and that relentless tongue on my nub. That encounter behind the oak tree had been incredible. The only thing hotter would to make Henry do it again after he had cleared my name.

Blake leaned forward. “What’s the story behind this package? Anything I need to know?”

“Probably not,” I muttered.

Gawkers still stared, and I clenched my teeth, longing to yell at them all to get screwed.

“I’m sure we’ll hear about it when we don’t have so much of an audience.” Edward set down his teacup. “What’s everyone doing tonight?”

* * *

Edward’s mood remained low for the rest of the day, and he returned to his family home for the weekend, needing to be alone to sort out a few things. I cornered him in his study on Monday night after dinner and asked what was on his mind.

He sat on the end of the leather Chesterfield with his elbow on the armrest. The light of the fire flickered across the room, softening his features. At that moment, Edward seemed younger and more vulnerable. I sat next to him and laced my fingers through his. My heart ached for him, even though I was still bitter from Henry’s refusal to discuss the fake kidnapping plot.

A brandy-scented sigh escaped his lips. “More complaints about International House keep popping up on the Mercia-Net. How soon before students start posting them to a public forum like Facebook?”

“Do you think they would?” I made a mental note to check online to see if Mercia Academy had a Facebook group or an unofficial students or alumni page.

“If nothing gets done about the international students, yes.”

I gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Whatever happens, I’ll be at your side.”

He drew back and rubbed at his brow. “You think the information will leak outside the school?”

“I’m just going by what you’ve said.” Scooting closer to him, I rested my head on his shoulder. “But you can’t deny that the situation is escalating to a point that’s worrying.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I don’t want to end up like Mr. Underwood, the subject of an official inquiry.”