Page 11 of Cruel Hearts

Mr. Burgh opened the door, letting in a gust of freezing air. He placed a hand on the small of my back and guided me out of the mansion. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

I descended the stone steps and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“They brought sniffer dogs to your room, presumably not beagles.”

A shudder ran down my spine, and I stared into the driveway beyond the iron gates that surrounded the courtyard. “German shepherds. That was a nasty shock.”

He gave me a comforting pat on the back. “Do you need to talk about it?”

“I’ll be alright as long as I don’t have to confront a dog any time soon.”

Mr. Burgh guided me through the courtyard. “It might not be much, but I won’t let Elizabeth go unpunished.”

I stared up into his face. “What are you going to do?”

“That’s for the Board of Governors to discuss. We have rules against bullying, disorderly conduct, and disturbing the academy’s peace.”

“How about respecting the privacy of others?” I muttered as we crossed the gates.

Mr. Burgh hummed his agreement but didn’t respond. I wondered if he wanted to avoid a discussion about how Elizabeth hadn’t been punished for dredging up facts about my past. I walked alongside him down the driveway that led away from the academy building and turned left down a single-lane track that ran parallel to the gardens.

“Is this part of the academy?” he asked.

“This is the Laird’s estate.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a Scottish term used to describe a land-owner. The academy is only a small part of Lord Liddell’s estate.”

“Is the chapel part of the academy?”

Mr. Burgh shook his head.

We walked in silence alongside a tall hedgerow of mixed plants. On the other side was a meadow and then fenced paddocks. A figure in the distance clad in black rode a pale, white horse over increasingly tall jumps. I glanced at Mr. Burgh to see if he had noticed the rider, but he stared straight ahead.

Dogs barked in the distance, but the sound didn’t set my teeth on edge to my surprise. A monstrous hound crushing a girl’s lungs tended to put a few things in perspective. The dogs locked up in those kennels couldn’t hurt me. I wrapped the shawl tighter around my shoulders, hoping that neither of the twins had told Elizabeth of my phobia. If they had, I could look forward to a fuck-load of ferocious dogs running through the academy.

Several minutes later, we rounded a corner and approached the chapel from the back. A black, Lincoln Continental from the 1960’s was parked close to its door, alongside a silver Bentley. Mr. Burgh frowned at the vehicles but didn’t comment.

“Isn’t that the car from the Matrix?” I asked.

He smiled and opened the back door. “Those films were before your time.”

“My friend from home was obsessed with the trilogy.” I stepped through into a warm, white hallway with pristine pine floors, not bothering to tell him that this Matrix fan was Sammy.

At the end of the hallway was a heavy wooden door that led to the main part of the chapel. Excited chatter filled the air. This was probably everyone’s first sighting of me since I’d been dragged half-naked out of the academy by police and sniffer dogs. I tamped down the flutter of nausea in the pit of my belly and raised my chin.

“Are you alright?” asked Mr. Burgh.

I offered him what I hoped was a confident smile. “They’re acting like they’ve never seen me before.”

He grinned. “Let’s take a pew.”

Mrs. Campbell sat in the front next to the two Mr. McGarrs, with space on her left for Mr. Burgh and me. Elizabeth and her mother sat on the other side. My muscles clenched, and I snatched my gaze away from the malevolent pair. Didn’t Lady Liddell have her own church, or were she and her wretched daughter joined at the teat?

I sat on the bench between Mr. Burgh and Mrs. Campbell, clenching and unclenching my fists. And dredging up memories of Religious Education class to remember if the bible had any stories about girls getting caught naked with a stash of blow. It didn’t matter that the police had discovered it was fake. People like Father Neapolitan tended to be selective with the facts.

“Miss Hancock,” whispered Mrs. Campbell. “I hope you have a bloody good explanation for recent events.”