Page 22 of Payback

Nausea seized my insides in its slimy grip, and I doubled over. Reading between the lines, it looked like Rudolph had planned to have Mr. Carbuncle murder me or leave me in a state close to death. I blew out a long, shuddering breath. “Why does he hate me so much?”

Blake rubbed my back. “He hates your mother for not sleeping with him.”

I bit down on my lip. What if Mom refused to go to bed with Rudolph long after he’d gotten a clean bill of health for syphilis? That should be grounds for divorce, not vengeance. It looked like Rudolph was trying to hurt her by isolating us both and having me killed in the most grisly manner.

“I-It was terrible,” said Charlotte. “He’s like an emaciated chicken with loose skin. If you saw how much Viagra he had to take—”

“I don’t need the details,” snapped Henry. “Where is he hiding Carbuncle?”

“He didn’t say,” Charlotte replied in a small voice.

Henry changed the subject, and they discussed options for getting her revenge on Rudolph. I could barely absorb the words as I kept thinking about Mom. Did she know how much Rudolph resented her for her refusal to sleep with him? From Mom’s carefree demeanor, I didn’t think she did.

Eventually, Henry and Charlotte concocted the idea of a honey trap, where Charlotte would go on Skype and entice Rudolph to say something incriminating, such as how he had instructed Philippe to recruit Mr. Carbuncle and Peter Underwood to abduct me.

I sank lower into my seat and watched the fields stretching through vast expanses of the Mercia estate. A dull ache settled at the bottom of my roiling stomach, adding to my nausea. “What kind of long, twisted game is he playing?”

Blake patted my thigh. “He wants to deliver his revenge at the right time.”

I bowed my head. “That’s how it looks to me, too.”

He squeezed my hand. “But we’ll stop him. He won’t hurt you or your mother.”

I stared at my phone. As soon as Charlotte finished talking, I would send the recording to Mom and tell her to watch her back.

Chapter 7

The limo driver drove around the block and pulled into the courtyard outside Elder House. The second the vehicle stopped, Henry opened the door and stepped outside. Charlotte remained in the back seat, presumably to adjust her skirt and button her shirt. Without waiting for Blake or me to exit, Henry bolted up the steps to Elder House and disappeared through the wooden double doors.

I thanked the driver then stepped out after Blake. He turned to me, his dark brows creased with concern. “Try not to worry about your mother. She’ll be out of Rudolph’s reach until she decides to return from Morocco.”

We walked up the stone steps, through the double doors, and into the reception hall. The stone construction of Elder House meant that its interior was cooler than the outside, which was great for summer. Blake walked to his mailbox on the far left, while I checked mine in the middle. A manilla envelope lay in my mailbox.

I pulled it out. “What’s this?”

“Does it say who it’s from?” Blake pulled out a thick envelope made of quality paper stock out of his own mailbox. He turned it around to reveal the calligraphy script. “No prizes for guessing who has written to complain about my conduct.”

My brows drew together. “But you haven’t done anything wrong.”

He flashed me a grin so wide, it made my heart flip-flop. Blake was such a handsome rascal. “Not yet.”

I shook my head, and we walked arm-in-arm through the hallway to Edward’s study. Henry paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, his face a mask of disgust. Edward sat at his desk and tapped on his laptop, doing his best to ignore Henry’s wordless ranting.

Blake smirked. “Take one for the team.”

“Easy for you to say,” Henry snarled. “She isn’t salivating all over you.”

“No, but she often salivated over my cock.”

“Blake,” all three of us snapped at the same time.

He waved us away and sat on the Chesterfield. “You all love it when I talk dirty.” Pulling me down onto his lap, he wrapped his arms around my waist and murmured, “Especially you.”

“Not when it’s about Charlotte Underwood.” I slapped his muscled chest.

“I concur,” muttered Edward, still staring at the screen of his laptop.

“Anyway,” I squirmed on Blake’s lap. “Henry won’t have to take one for the team because I’ll be there to chaperone.”