Page 56 of Deposed

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 Paul 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 distance, 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.