Page 55 of Cruel Games

The stew was one of those one-dish meals that seemed to contain all the major food groups. He cracked open a bottle of white wine and poured me a glass.

“Thanks,” I said. “Did you make it yourself?”

His cheeks reddened. “Mrs. Campbell might have helped.”

I sipped from my glass and hid a smile. If I was a gambler, I’d bet that she made the entire stew herself and even put it in the oven for him.

Mr. Burgh launched into his life story. He had been a student at Templar Academy in the seventies and had returned here to teach after university and teacher training college. He took over as headmaster at the turn of the century.

“Which subject did you teach?”

“Religious Studies.” He sipped his wine and explained that he had studied Theology at Edinburgh University, fully intending to become a priest, but he changed his mind after meeting his wife and decided to become a teacher.

I frowned throughout the explanation, wondering what on earth Mr. Burgh thought about the lifestyle Mother and I had led. And what would he say when he discovered that I had framed Orlando and Maxwell to look like they were having a gay clinch and gotten them suspended?

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I have a confession to make.”

He leaned forward. “What is it?”

“Kendrick Deloraine told me why his brother was suspended.”

His brows furrowed. “The boys should never have conducted the physical part of their relationship in the academy, let alone broadcasted it on the internet.”

“I did that.”

“What?” He dropped his fork into the chicken and dumpling stew. “You were in the room with them?”

I explained everything, starting with meeting them in a nightclub and overhearing their plans to lure me into Orlando’s room to film a sex tape. Mr. Burgh scowled throughout my story but didn’t interrupt.

At the part where I tricked the boys into allowing me to handcuff them, he rolled his eyes.

By the time I finished, his entire posture sagged. “Delilah,” he said with a long sigh. “Have you done anything like this before?”

“Of course not.”

He massaged his temples. “It wouldn’t be the first time that video clips of female students in compromising positions have done the rounds at the academy. I now suspect those boys were the culprits.”

Egged on by Elizabeth. I didn’t voice that suspicion. Right now, half the school was still disgusted with the way she had outed me, which was enough. And I didn’t want to make accusations before I had any concrete evidence.

Mr. Burgh placed his hand on mine and fixed me with a stern gaze. “I don’t want you to end up like your—”

“I’m nothing like her.” I pulled back my arm and wrapped it around my middle. “Maybe that’s how it looks on the surface with us both living with dealers, but I have dreams. I want to be more than someone’s woman.”

He frowned. “You’re not going to become a dress designer by messing about with boys.”

“I knew what I was doing that night. I still do.”

“You had better,” he said. “Now that everyone knows our connection, I won’t be able to protect you from accusations of lewd conduct.”

“I know.” I placed my hand on his. “In the future, I’ll keep my lewd conduct to Glasgow weekends.”

His eyes hardened. “It’s no laughing matter.”

My shoulders slumped with a mixture of exhaustion and defeat. I’d never had anyone look out for me, and it was strange but not unappreciated. At the same time, he was right to warn me.

Mr. Burgh had taken a risk in bringing me here, exposing himself to someone dredging up a scandal that would have been upsetting to him and his late wife. I wasn’t about to repay his generosity by getting myself pregnant or getting caught in Orlando and Maxwell’s games.