Page 53 of Revenge

We all sat together in English Literature while Miss Oakley stood in the front of the class talking about the great novels in literature. One of her examples was A Tale of Two Cities.

The old woman’s black academic robes trailed on the ground as she paced the room. “Which themes do you think makes a book stand the test of time?”

I raised my hand. This was a great opportunity to place an idea into Henry’s head. “Sacrifice, Miss.”

She smiled. “Explain, dear girl.”

“In A Tale of Two Cities, Carton sacrificed his life so Lucie could be happy with Darnay. And in Bleak House, John Jarndyce gave up on pursuing Esther because she loved Mr. Woodcourt. People who love others are prepared to make sacrifices, even if things work out to their detriment.”

She pressed her hand on her chest. “An astute observation, and probably the most romantic gesture one person can make for another.”

Henry gave me a nudge. “You’re quite the expert on love.”

“I have three guys,” I whispered. “It’s bound to give me a few insights.”

He grinned and squeezed my thigh.

After English Lit, Henry and I both had free periods, so we walked back to Elder House together and settled in the triumvirate’s common room sofa. Flames crackled and popped within the roaring fireplace, providing much-needed warmth and a cozy atmosphere to hold our conversation.

I threaded my fingers through his and stared into his earnest, green eyes. “I’ve been thinking a lot about love recently.”

Henry grinned. “Anyone in particular?”

Lowering my lashes into what I hoped was a vulnerable expression, I said, “I’m not sure I can commit to a man who would let me take the blame for something as serious as a kidnapping.”

“It wasn’t just me,” he replied.

“I know, but it was you they supposedly abducted, and your parents who paid the ransom. If Blake or Edward went to the police telling them I was innocent, they would dismiss their claim.” I squeezed his hand. “That’s why I need your help.”

His brows drew together. “But my parents…”

“If they could drop the charges for me at Rudolph’s request, they would forgive their only son.”

He jerked his head away, breaking eye contact. “You don’t know what they’re like… they’re always threatening me with disinheritance if I don’t do exactly what they say.”

I pressed my lips together, holding back the rage and disgust simmering in my belly. What an entitled prick. Not only did he think it was alright to trick his parents out of five-hundred thousand pounds, but he didn’t want to jeopardize his claim to the Bourneville fortune by telling the truth. Did the wretched boy have no ambition other than to inherit the fruits of someone else’s labors? I closed my eyes and exhaled my frustration, hoping my feelings wouldn’t show in my voice. “Would it be so bad to be like the rest of us?”

“I’ll tell you what.” He cupped my face in both hands. “Break off your engagement with Bachmann and show us your commitment, and I’ll take care of everything.”

“You’d tell your parents it wasn’t me?”

He nodded.

“Thank you!” I threw my hands around his neck, knocking him onto his back. Perhaps he wasn’t so bad after all. “I’ll speak to him tonight and tell you about it tomorrow.”

* * *

The next day after lunch, I stood in Edward’s study in front of the triumvirate, who sat on the leather Chesterfield sofa like a panel of sexy judges. Butterfly wings tickled the lining of my stomach, making me wrap my hands around my belly. The Persian rug lay between us, not quite a barrier, but a marker of our positions on two sides of an unspoken war. The clock struck a quarter to one, giving me fifteen minutes until the next bell, and me an excuse to escape… just in case.

“What do you have to say?” Edward asked from the middle seat with Blake at his left and Henry at his right. All three of their faces were grim, as though they had spoken about me earlier and were dreading the worst.

Twisting a cheap ring I’d bought online on my finger, I walked past the desk to the fireplace, glancing at the boys from beneath my lashes. Each of their gazes locked onto the ring, a symbol that I didn’t fully trust them with my heart.

“I-I’m ready to commit.” I pulled off the ring and threw it into the fireplace. “Sergei and I spoke last night. He’s upset—”

Henry rushed out of his seat and wrapped me in a tight hug. “I’ve been waiting all term for you to say those words.”

I hugged back. “Sorry that it took so long.”