Page 4 of Deposed

Sergei might let me sleep on his sofa until my allowance arrived. It would mean going out with him in the evening as his beard, but by the time the triumvirate found pictures of me in the society pages, they would already hate me for being the leak.

Seconds after I reached the front of the line for the ticket machine, the buzzing of my phone gave me a jolt. My hand twitched toward my pocket. I had to know if there was an update about Edward’s dad. The poor man had to be frightened out of his wits to have been arrested. With his dementia, he probably didn’t even know why the police had taken him away.

I wrapped my hand around the phone and glanced at the screen. It was a long message from Rita, asking if I had boarded the plane yet. A breath of relief slid from my lungs. She seemed quite excited that I was leaving the country, as opposed to harassed that the triumvirate had stormed our room, demanding answers.

A sharp finger prodded me in the lower back. It belonged to a middle-aged man dressed in a charcoal, pin-striped suit. His sharp features were a younger version of Rudolph’s which reminded me of the unfair ultimatum.

His pale, blue eyes flashed. “Are you going to buy a ticket or send text messages?”

“My smartphone is a payment device.” I let my gaze flicker down his thin form. “We’ve moved on from money orders. And from poking girls in the ass.”

His cheeks turned red, and he spluttered, “I did no such thing!”

“Why poke a girl at all?”

Breathing hard, he glanced from left to right before storming to another ticket line. I turned around and bought an Oyster card. Since I planned on spending time in London, it made sense to save money buying an electronic, rechargeable ticket.

After paying, I stood at the wall between the ticket machines and sent Sergei a text. I’m stranded in London. Do you have a spare couch? :)

Seconds later, the phone buzzed. This is Andreo. Sergei is playing at the South Bank Center until 23h. Can you get to Sloane Square station?

Yes. I replied.

One of the guards will meet you outside and take you to our apartment.

The tightness around my neck and torso that I didn’t notice before melted away, and I leaned against the wall and exhaled a noisy breath of relief. Thank you! I’ll get there as soon as I can.

The sun had set by the time I stepped out into Sloane Square, and one of the bodyguards was already waiting. He gave me a nod of greeting and gestured at a street of Victorian mansion apartments overlooking the river. Street lights lit our way, and I breathed hard, trying to imagine which one of these buildings was Sergei’s.

Sergei’s apartment was a duplex with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a suspension bridge lit up by a thousand lightbulbs with views of a park on the other bank of the River Thames. It had an open-plan living area with a kitchen, diner and a bank of leather sofas with views of both a projector TV and of the magnificent vista. The bodyguard showed me to a room the size of my dorm, which he assured me in broken English was unoccupied.

I sat on the bed, pulled out my smartphone, and sent a message to Rita. My ticket to New York got canceled, and I’m staying with Sergei.

She replied with, What about the school in NY your stepfather promised??

A lump formed in my throat. If I’d allowed Rudolph to send me to military school, I wouldn’t be in this mess. He wants me to return to Mercia and spy.

They’ll kill you.

My heart sank. I know. Edward and Blake would restart their campaign of vicious pranks, and Henry would give me disapproving glares if he didn’t join them. But at least I have all of Easter break to work out a way to avoid going back.

Rita didn’t reply. Maybe because I was a lost cause. I stared at Edward’s last message. He hadn’t messaged again with news about his father, and I doubted that he would give me any updates. I had never meant for my actions to hurt a widower who required round-the-clock care for dementia. Edward had to know that.

I hope you’re proud that your machinations have brought both the school and the duchy into disrepute.

My heart spasmed. He had to be feeling as betrayed as I had during my captivity in that basement room. At first, I had been confused that anyone would think me capable of kidnapping Henry, but with Blake’s prompting, I had worked out that they had framed me. The pain of that treachery had been unbearable and still stung even today. This morning, I had convinced Edward that I wasn’t the leak, gotten a confession of love, then seduced him, only to disappear while he slept.

I had to be the world’s biggest bitch.

Rita texted later to say that she’d had to delete my messages because Blake knocked on the door and demanded to see her phone. Hours later, the apartment filled with the sounds of male voices. I stepped into the hallway, padded down the stairs, and hovered by the end of the banister.

Sergei walked through the doors, wearing a black tuxedo with a matching vest and a silver bowtie. His black hair had grown a few inches and hung past his collarbone. He furrowed his brows and stared at me with worried, aquamarine eyes. “Emilia?”

I rushed into his arms. “I’m sorry, but I had nowhere else to go!”

He guided me to the sofas and sat me down. “What happened?”

The entire, sorry tale blurted out. He already knew about the events of the end of my first term, but I told him how I’d gotten revenge on the boys and a few others by revealing their secrets to the Saturday Correspondent. Sergei listened without interruption or judgment, and when I finished by telling him that I’d lost my virginity earlier in the day, he wrapped his arms around me.