Page 59 of Deposed

I lifted my head and peered out at the space beyond Blake, half expecting to find a larger body wrapped around him, but there was no sign of Henry. Instead, orange streams of sunlight shone through the chink in the curtain and highlighted his empty spot.

A pang of regret struck my heart and filled my chest with a dull ache. This entire arrangement had started with Henry. Without that time alone in that dingy room, I would never have gotten to know Henry without Edward’s hostility getting in the way or without my mixed feelings about Blake’s involvement in Charlotte’s pranks.

Last night, I had fallen asleep minutes after settling onto Blake’s chest, and I hadn’t noticed Edward’s arrival. Had Henry also entered the room? After I had told him to go to hell the day we visited his parents, he probably didn’t think he would be welcome.

After giving me a gentle, morning kiss, Blake went downstairs to get dressed, while Edward offered me the first use of his bathroom. I stood in front of his mirror and scowled at my swollen face. Green now edged the bruises instead of the usual purple-black. Underneath the bandages, the bruises were still a livid purple. Even the passage of time and Mrs. Simpson-West’s bruise salves couldn’t work miracles.

Edward stepped into the bathroom, froze, and hissed like an angry cat. He fisted his hand over the towel around his waist and breathed hard.

I grimaced at the fading, hand-shaped bruises on my breasts. “You should have seen them a few days ago.”

“I’ll kill him,” he said in a voice as cold as the eyes roving my tapestry of scabs and bruises.

“Not if I get to him first.” He opened his mouth to protest, but I spoke first. “But I’ll be with one of you and not on my own.”

“Yes, you will,” he said with a bite in his voice. He raised his gaze, revealing a face etched with worry. “How on earth are you coping with the pain?”

I slipped off my panties, but Edward’s gaze didn’t waver from my eyes. Damn. I was glad he hadn’t seen my body while the bruises had been worse. “The painkillers are great, even though they make me drowsy.”

He stepped forward. “Are you sure you should be showering alone?”

My heart skipped a beat. “I could always use a helping hand.”

His brows drew together. “This is serious, Emilia.”

I gave him a quick peck on the lips and pulled him into the shower. Unfortunately, the shock of my bruises reawakened his gentlemanly instincts, and he washed my body with the professionalism and precision of a surgeon.

After we dressed, we walked hand-in-hand to the dining room, where Henry sat at a table in the middle of the room with Blake.

Sunlight filtered in through the high windows, making the ends of Henry’s hair shine like candle flames. As soon as our gazes caught, he rose to his feet and stared at me with widened eyes that traveled around my face, down my neck, and lingered on the fading rope marks on my wrists.

His nostrils flared so quickly, I thought I’d imagined the expression, then he asked, “How are you feeling?”

I sat at his side and placed a hand on his clenched fist. Throughout my assurances, his face tightened into a false mask of calm, and his breathing quickened. I gave his hand a squeeze. “You don’t have to do that stiff upper lip thing. You can tell me if you’re mad.”

“The only person I’m angry with are those two bastards,” he said through clenched teeth.

“And that bloody bitch,” added Blake. “Who else would have left that fake invitation in your hallway?”

Edward poured me a glass of orange juice for my pain tablet, and I tried to drown out their plans to deal with Charlotte. Somehow, she had worked out that I had been behind the leaks, and she probably now blamed me for exposing her brother’s gambling addiction, her father’s fall from grace and impending jail sentence, and the resulting sharp decline in her family fortunes. I’d taken my revenge against her too far, and she had retaliated in kind. It didn’t mean I wouldn’t smash her in the face as soon as I could swing a punch.

Coates and three other boys from the rugby team carried a pair of empty tables and chairs to the podium, getting the space ready for Charlotte’s grand entrance. The matron rushed up to admonish them for moving the furniture, but they walked around her like she didn’t exist. I rolled my eyes and stirred my porridge.

“They’re slipping,” muttered Edward. “Last week, they would have had that table ready before anyone arrived.”

Blake shook his head. “She probably can’t satisfy four rugby boys.”

I leaned forward, eyes wide. “You think she’s in a relationship with Coates and his friends?”

Henry barked a laugh. “That’s what she thinks. You should hear what they say about her in the changing rooms.”

“Coates wouldn’t cow-tow to someone he didn’t respect.” Edward cast a disapproving glare on the large boys who had laid the table cloth and were now setting the table with fine china and silverware they’d produced from a box. “What does Charlotte have on him?”

“She’s bribing them,” I said.

Blake shook his head. “I doubt it. They wouldn’t need the money—” His face split into a grin. “Oh, you mean with sex? Coates is a virgin, so…”

Henry snickered. I glanced at Coates, wondering why the triumvirate disliked him. According to Edward, Blake had once put hair remover cream in his sunblock, which seemed like a nasty prank to pull on someone who regularly changed in front of other boys. Maybe Coates was helping Charlotte because he was happy to see the triumvirate dethroned and someone who had hurt him less on the throne.