Page 31 of Payback

“He works for Rudolph, doesn’t he?” I said. “Rudolph and Philippe could have set this up as another way to lash out, like the letter Rudolph wrote to Mr. Jenkins about withdrawing me from the academy.”

When the car stopped outside Elder House, Edward walked me to his study and poured us both a tumbler of brandy for the shock. Even though I knew I was safe in Elder House, my hands couldn’t stop shaking. Mr. Carbuncle had nearly taken me. If he had succeeded, there would be no Peter Underwood to stop him from doing precisely what he had threatened.

I sagged onto the leather Chesterfield, tears clouding my vision. I had ruined Mr. Carbuncle’s life by exposing what he had done with the sixth-form girls, and now, he wanted to ruin me. Edward sat at my side, rubbing comforting circles on my back and whispering words of reassurance, but the tremors wouldn’t stop. I’d developed a phobia of Mr. Carbuncle, and I wasn’t sure of the cure.

Two police officers arrived and interviewed us both in Mr. Jenkins’ dusty room. Our housemaster remained silent throughout the interview, his face paling at the mention of the gun. It might have been because he worried about Mr. Carbuncle’s wellbeing, but I no longer cared. Mr. Jenkins was firmly on the list of people I didn’t trust.

After the junior officer had taken my statement, he said, “We’ve already sent out warnings to local vets, General Practitioners, and hospitals with Carbuncle’s description. If he seeks medical attention for his shotgun wounds, they’ll inform us.”

Nodding, I swallowed hard. As much as I wanted to believe in the efforts of the police, Rudolph had helped people, myself included, escape justice with his money and influence.

I returned to Edward’s study and slumped on the leather sofa. All the adrenaline drained out from my system, leaving me hollowed out and raw. Even when the academy medic visited to give me a checkup, I couldn’t muster enough graciousness to offer him more than a muttered thanks.

Edward sat on my left, and Blake arrived later to sit on my right. I rested my head on Blake’s shoulder and stared straight ahead at the trees outside the window. Even his warm, comforting familiarity failed to snap me out of my overwhelmed state.

Henry stepped into the room, his face grave. “I heard what happened.” He held out his hand. “Come with me.”

Edward shot out of his seat. “I hardly think this is an appropriate time for a date.”

“A change of scenery.” He pulled me out off the sofa. “We’re going to London and staying at the apartment, behind guards more effective than campus security.”

* * *

Henry stroked my hair for the entire journey while I dozed on his chest. Somehow, his presence and the moving vehicle provided a level of security I hadn’t gotten from sitting in Edward’s study.

As the limo passed Marble Arch, Henry’s phone buzzed.

“What’s that?” I murmured.

“Hold on.” He shifted a bit and pulled his phone out of his blazer pocket. “It’s from Blake.”

I scanned the smartphone’s screen. Blake’s message read:

Mr. Underwood was arrested for trying to leave the country while on bail. Charlotte wants to sell her story to the tabloids. She has already secured an agent and two offers. Her copy of the video will be used as evidence.

Annoyance rippled through my insides. “Fuck.”

Henry’s lips thinned. “You can’t use Charlotte’s video to blackmail him anymore, but this will still lead to Rudolph’s ruin, and the adultery will give your mother grounds for divorce. Right now, you need to focus on yourself.”

We traveled through the public parking lot, through the underground passageway under the stores, and into the Bourneville private parking lot. The maze of hallways and security doors that led to the upstairs apartment didn’t seem as daunting as the first time I had visited.

When we stepped into the giant drawing room of black marble pillars, crystal chandeliers, and gold-embroidered furniture, Mrs. Bourneville stepped out from the far doors. She wore a maroon, snakeskin leather jacket with a camel-colored, bodycon dress. Golden hair, the exact shade of Henry’s, cascaded down to her shoulders, framing her delicate features to perfection.

“Henry? I didn’t expect to see you.”

He leaned into me and muttered, “Sorry. Mother told me she was in Milan.”

I wrapped my arm around his bicep. “It will be nice to catch up with your mom.”

Mrs. Bourneville crossed the room and yanked Henry down for a kiss. “We arrived a few hours ago.” She drew me into a tight hug. “It’s a wonderful surprise to see you both. Have you come for dinner?”

Henry turned to me and shrugged. “We can always eat at one of the restaurants downstairs if you’re not up for company.”

“Up here’s fine,” I replied.

Mrs. Bourneville beamed. “Well, food will be ready in an hour. Change out of your uniform and put something on.” She stared down at my empty hands. “Did you bring any clothes?”

I shook my head. In my desperation to leave Mercia Academy, I hadn’t really thought we would need to dress for dinner.