Page 36 of Revenge

“Get it off your chest.” I let a thimbleful bubble onto my tongue. “It’s clearly bothering you.”

The faint sound of a foghorn caught my attention, and I glanced down into the Thames. A cruise boat, lit up by hundreds of multi-colored lightbulbs, made its slow journey through the river. It was probably filled with party-goers.

After a moment, Edward sighed. “My father has a condition which is worsening, and we’re having trouble with round-the-clock care.”

I held my breath. Henry had mentioned the duke’s decline while we were in that dingy room, but so much had happened since then, I wasn’t sure if I correctly remembered the details. “Your butler?”

“Gregson is too old, and Father has young-onset dementia. He needs a carer young and strong enough to keep up with him.”

“Oh.” I tried to picture Dad in that situation, but the image was too painful. With his mother deceased, the pressure on Edward had to be tremendous. I took a swig of champagne and handed it back. “I’m so sorry.”

“So am I.” He backed away, leaned against one of the balcony rails and drank a few gulps. Compared to the others, he was relatively sober. I wondered if he’d drunk enough of that absinthe.

“Is he in an institution?”

Edward raised his head, giving me the strangest look as though I’d said something ridiculous. I went over what I had asked. Since Edward was sixteen or seventeen and in full-time education with only an elderly butler at home, it made sense that the Duke of Mercia might go to a facility that could give him the treatment he needed.

After several moments, he said, “We’re taking care of him at home.”

“You and Gregson?”

“And a male nurse Henry was kind enough to hire.” He gulped down several mouthfuls.

I gasped, just as a cold breeze blew across the balcony, sending a chill running down my back. “Wait! That’s what you did with the ransom money?”

Edward let out a long, weary sigh. “We’re in a similar situation to the Underwoods. Father made some very poor business decisions before his diagnosis. The accountant is picking through the ledgers and trying to decipher what exactly Father has done, but it’s taking time.”

Without meaning to, my gaze flickered to the direction of the camera, and I pulled it back to my lap. All this time, I had thought the boys wanted a bit of spending money. But they had staged the kidnapping to help the ailing duke. My heart twisted, and a tight band of panic wrapped around my chest. If I had known… I squeezed my eyes shut. Things might have been different.

A little voice in the back of my head, the one that cried out for vengeance, whispered that it still didn’t explain why they had framed me when I would have kept their secret. My chest loosened, and I exhaled a long breath.

“That’s terrible.” I wrapped the blanket over my shoulders. “Is there a business manager?”

“Just the full-time accountant, Gregson, and me. We’d love to bring in an expert on estate management, but Father’s going to live a long life, and that ransom money might only stretch a decade.”

My brows drew together. “Can the school help?”

Edward placed the bottle to his mouth, tilted his head back and drank an unholy amount of champagne. I jerked forward to grab the bottle, but by the time I reached him, he had already straightened and pulled it off his lips. He turned his gaze to the tiled floor. “If it was just the troubles of the estate, I wouldn’t mind to much, but the headmaster is my biggest source of stress.”

“Isn’t he paying for the use of the land?”

“The academy treasurer takes care of that.” Edward sighed. “Mr. Chaloner approached me with the proposal of an expensive international summer school that would take in quality students who wanted a British education.”

My breathing quickened, and I tried not to turn around to check on the camera Tom had placed on the wall behind me. This was exactly what Jackie had wanted me to uncover. I dared not speak for fear of derailing his train of thought, but when he continued staring at the balcony floor, I said, “Is that how International House started?”

“The bastard brought his plans forward to January,” he said between clenched teeth.

I gulped. “Is International House part of Mercia Academy?”

“It’s affiliated with the Duchy of Mercia, not the academy. The headmaster capitalized on most people not knowing the difference.” Bitterness laced his voice.

I slipped a hand over my mouth. This was fraud… Sort of. While the Duchy owned the estate, the academy was run by a charitable trust that paid the Duchy for the use of the land. The headmaster’s international school was a completely different venture not associated with the academy but using the Mercia name to make the international students believe they’d get the same level of education as the British students.

“International House is bringing down the academy,” said Edward. “None of the staff will teach there, the younger students are frightened out of their wits at some of the residents, and the headmaster has to bring in substandard personnel to attend to the students.”

I shook my head. “I can’t believe he would do that to the school. Who are these students, anyway?”

Edward placed the bottle on the tiled floor and stared down into the Thames. The party boat had disappeared into the distance, and a calmness settled over our stretch of the water. “He assured me they would be children of diplomats, politicians, and international executives who wanted the prestige of a British education, but having seen some of them, I’m not sure.”