Page 84 of Cruel Hearts

Mr. Burgh shook his head. “That might be so, but the Liddell family has always favored a male child over a female, regardless of legitimacy.”

“And Father Neapolitan is older, so he should inherit the estate—”

“Do you see why you can’t repeat this?”

“No.”

“If what your mother is saying about the identity of your father is correct, you would be second in line to the Liddell fortune after Father Neapolitan. Even if he had made an arrangement with the family to relinquish his claim on the title in exchange for residence in the estate’s vicarage, you didn’t.”

Now, my eyes bulged. “Bloody hell.”

“Indeed.”

My tongue darted out to lick my lips. “That’s why she kept rambling on about Esau. Shit.”

“Language.”

“Sorry.” A laugh huffed out of my chest.

Mr. Burgh cupped my face with both hands. “How many other people did you tell?”

“Maxwell, but he doesn’t know I suspect Father Neapolitan of being the next Lord Liddell.”

“As soon as Kendrick confines in his brother about your suspicions of the archbishop being your grandfather...” He squeezed his eyes shut. “You must implore them not to discuss this information with anyone. There’s no telling how far Lady Liddell will stoop to secure Elizabeth’s inheritance.”

Chapter 30

I rushed back to the academy, my surroundings a blur. Biting-cold wind rushed through my hair, and thoughts of that disgusting Father Neapolitan whirled through my mind. What did he know about me? I’d always thought he despised me because he resented Mother for rejecting him. I tripped up the academy’s half-staircase, and a hysterical laugh bubbled up in the back of my throat.

My arms flew out, and my palms landed on the steps, breaking my fall. I blinked away the tears blurring my vision. What kind of person raped a girl, stalked her, and then held her prisoner until she gave in to his sexual demands?

The Liddells had swept the first rape under the table once. Then the second time he attacked her, they had gotten her thrown in jail. What if she hadn’t stolen anything after all, and those charges were trumped up to ensure her silence?

I picked myself up, rubbed by freezing palms on the wool of my blazer, and stepped through the double doors. The warmth of the entrance hall was nothing compared to the chill of learning that the Liddells could be that ruthless.

How could Mother stand to see me every day, a reminder of what Father Neapolitan did to her? Was this why she drank and took drugs? Anguish thickened my throat, and my steps faltered at the foot of the half-staircase.

It was all because of me.

“Are you alright?” asked a voice from the top of the stairs.

I raised my head to find Gideon descending toward me, his brow furrowed.

“No,” I croaked.

“Is this anything to do with why you weren’t at dinner and breakfast?” he placed a hand on my arm.

“Yes.” I blew out a breath. “No.” I shook my head. “It’s complicated.”

He offered me a gentlemanly arm. “Then we’d better sit somewhere private and have a cup of tea. The guest rooms have larger kettles. Shall we go to yours?”

Gideon and I walked in silence through the chiming of the clock tower and then through the crowds of boisterous students rushing from one class to another. I was supposed to be in Art and Design right now, but I wouldn’t be able to hold a piece of charcoal, much less a conversation. I couldn’t get the injustice of what happened to Mother out of my mind.

Thoughts of her suffering at their hands seeped into the pit of my belly, fueling anger and resentment I’d already held for Elizabeth and built it into an inferno. That family had hurt ours for long enough. They had used their influence to turn Mother from a well-brought-up girl to a neurotic jailbird with a drug habit.

And now they were trying to do the same to me.

Gideon squeezed my hand. “Whatever it is,” he said through the din of the rushing students, “we can get through this together.”