Page 36 of Cruel Shame

His eyes softened. “And you?”

Forcing a smile, I shook my head. “Not so good.”

The receptionist stepped in from a side room, asking if we wanted a room or a table at the restaurant. Kendrick asked for a table for two, and the receptionist guided us to the bar, saying there would be an hour’s wait for food. My stomach spasmed with hunger, but the scents of roasted meat wafting through the hallways promised that it would be worth a wait.

We settled by a crackling fireplace into a comfortable, two-seater sofa upholstered in purple velvet. It was more like a living room than a pub, with people sitting around low tables on matching sofas and armchairs. On the far left of the room stood a wooden bar that matched the paneled walls.

Kendrick passed me a menu, and one of the employees took our order for food and drinks. Right now, the thought of alcohol turned my stomach, and I ordered a hot chocolate to keep my hunger at bay. He ordered an Irish coffee, which was black and topped with thick, white cream.

When my hot chocolate arrived, it was a thick concoction covered with chocolate cream, dark chocolate sauce, and sprinkles. I took a sip, letting the rich, heady flavors of cacao, vanilla, and hazelnut mingle on my tongue. It was the thickest, most velvety thing I’d ever tasted, and I lost myself in the sensation, letting the bitterness of the afternoon fade to the barest aftertaste.

He exhaled a long breath and shook his head. “We had a great-grand aunt in the same situation as your mother.”

My throat dried, and I dropped my gaze to the chocolate the server had left on the table, wondering what on earth Kendrick had gathered from his encounter with Mother.

“She was a sought-after heiress in her youth but married a man who only wanted her dowry and the income that came with her estate.”

My brows drew together. That didn’t sound like Mother at all. “What happened to her?”

“The husband confined her to an attic room, while he acted as though the wealth he had married into was his own.” Kendrick took a long drag from his Irish coffee and licked the cream from his lips. “No matter what my grandfather said, she wouldn’t admit to needing help. Eventually, she stopped answering letters or allowing visitors. The last our family heard about her was an announcement of her husband’s remarriage.”

I slumped in my seat. “You think my mother’s life is at risk?”

“Your stepfather is as odious as he is dangerous.”

Kendrick was right. Billy Hancock wasn’t about to plot Mother’s murder but might bring about her death from drink and drugs and domestic violence. I wrapped my fingers around the warm mug, my mind swirling around the unsolvable dilemma that was my mother.

Sometimes, I didn’t know if I was fixating too much on Billy Hancock being the root of her addiction. Until recently I’d discovered that her problems started with Father Neapolitan, the Liddells, and the fallout from her getting pregnant with me.

A rush of guilt tightened my chest. I cleared my throat, pushed thoughts of being the product of rape to the back of my mind, and took another sip of the hot chocolate.

Kendrick set down his mug. “You must have a tremendously strong will to have escaped those people unscathed.”

I raised my shoulders. “Because of Billy Hancock, I’m terrified of dogs.”

He nodded, realization flickering across his eyes about the barbed comment the older man made about keeping the kennels shut. “I have a newfound respect for your resilience. If you can survive a man like Hancock, you can survive the Liddels.”

“But Mr. Burgh—”

“The plan you told your mother was sound. Even if she won’t raise a word in the headmaster’s defense, clinical evidence that Mr. Burgh is your maternal grandfather will disprove Elizabeth’s allegations.”

“I wish there was something I could do about her,” I muttered.

Kendrick tightened his lips but didn’t reply.

“What?” I said.

“Elizabeth is…” He rotated his eyes to the side.

Now it was my time to purse my lips. I hoped this wasn’t the part of the evening where he defended the honor of the girl who strung him along for years.

Kendrick met my gaze. “Elizabeth isn’t intelligent enough to have concocted everything by herself.” I opened my mouth to speak, but he raised a palm. “She’s vindictive, resourceful, and determined, but this plan to discredit Mr. Burgh must have come from her mother.”

I nodded. Everything he said so far made sense. The mere fact that Elizabeth decided to use the cocaine she’d received from her family instead of planting it in my room said she wasn’t the mastermind behind the plot to tear me down. “But what are you saying?”

“There might be a way to resolve this with Elizabeth’s help.”

I shook my head. “She’ll never side with me against her family. Besides, she’s crazy.”