Page 32 of Payback

“We’ll go downstairs and find you something to wear. Who’s your favorite designer?” Before I could reply, she waved her manicured hand. “It doesn’t matter. We can try a selection and see which you like best.”

Mrs. Bourneville looped her arm through mine and walked us through the drawing-room to another elevator. I glanced over at Henry, who walked behind us, his lips quirked into a smile. I smiled back. At least he would be coming with us.

She placed her entire right hand on a scanner at the side of the elevator. It beeped, and she looked into a tiny reader that scanned her retina. After that, she tapped in a code and spoke into the intercom. “Yes… Clara Bourneville here with Emilia Hobson, a guest.”

“Henry?” said a voice from behind. “Did you come to discuss your inheritance?”

Mr. Bourneville stepped out of another door with Henry’s Aunt Idette in tow. They both wore identical navy blue trouser suits, but Aunt Idette wore a red pussy bow around her collar instead of a necktie.

Henry’s brows drew together. “I’m giving Emilia a change of scenery after an intruder nearly snatched her in Mercia Academy.”

Aunt Idette placed her hands on her hips. “Another kidnapping?” Contempt edged her voice. “What do you children need money for this time?”

I bristled. “It wasn’t faked.”

“Henry, we need to have words.”

“I’m escorting Mother and Emilia through the—”

“Do you think you can do a better job than our security staff?”

Henry scowled but didn’t reply.

His father turned to me. “Emilia, please be assured that a pair of armed bodyguards will escort you through the door when you step out of the lift.”

Mrs. Bourneville placed a hand on my arm. “There’s no need to be afraid. Henry brought you here because the security is world-class.”

I glanced around the opulent room. Henry hunched his shoulders, and a muscle in his clenched jaw flexed with annoyance. His mom gave him an encouraging smile, which he didn’t notice.

Mr. Bourneville kept his gaze steady, with only the drumming of his fingers an indication of his impatience. Aunt Idette’s narrowed eyes darted around the room, and her mouth puckered as though she’d tasted something sour.

A lead weight of guilt sank my heart into my stomach. If it wasn’t for me, Mr. Bourneville wouldn’t have disinherited Henry. If there was a chance for him to make amends with his father and regain his birthright, I couldn’t be selfish and insist he stayed at my side.

Giving Henry what I hoped would be a reassuring smile, I said, “I’ll be fine in the store.”

Mrs. Bourneville pressed the elevator button, and the doors opened. We both stepped in, and she selected the middle button, which wasn’t even labeled.

As the elevator descended, she said, “It’s wonderful to see you here with Henry, considering your rocky start.”

“We went through an awkward patch, but things are getting better.”

She shook her head. “I wish he had come to me for help with his friend’s father instead of getting you implicated in such a convoluted plot.”

Before I could answer, the doors opened into a short hallway. Two guards with body armor under their suits stepped forward. Guarding the entrance further on was a pair of regular security guards who wore black uniforms and matching caps with the Bourneville crests.

My throat dried. While their presence evaporated any fears I had about Mr. Carbuncle following me to London to finish the job he had started, I couldn’t help but wonder why Mrs. Bourneville needed a pair of bodyguards.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I walked alongside Henry’s mom though the doors and into the store. She took me to the designer concessions department, where I had shopped with the triumvirate for my gown.

Mrs. Bourneville stopped at Amanda Wakely and picked out a floor-length wrap dress in a luxurious, green silk that matched Henry’s eyes. “This would look divine on you.”

I gulped. It seemed more like the sort of gown Mom would wear. “Will it be a formal dinner?”

“Smart-casual for the men. Anything goes for the women.” She winked. “If you wear that, I’ll put on my Diane Von Furstenburg maxi.”

My stomach twisted. I loved dressing up, but after today, I was in the mood for something understated. At the end of the row of concessions stood on a mannequin wearing a knee-length, asymmetric dress in caramel satin.

I nodded in its direction. “What about that one?”