Page 12 of Cruel Games

I pulled back my shoulders. The accent was a thousand times posher, but the body language was the same as any of the stupid cows in juvenile detention who tried to exert their dominance. Legs shoulder-width apart, hands on hips, and chin raised.

Instead of shoving a fist in the girl’s gut and establishing her place below me in the pecking order, I had to play nice. At least until I decided whether or not to stay here.

“Isn’t it polite to introduce yourself first?” I asked.

She stuck her nose in the air. “I expect the boys have already pointed me out.”

“Actually, they haven’t,” I lied. “Is there any reason why they should have?”

Her lips tightened, and her nostrils flared delicately. I bit down on the inside of my mouth, trying to stifle a laugh at her acting so ruffled.

“I’m Elizabeth Liddell, heir to this private academy.” She gave me an expectant stare.

I let my gaze travel down her slender form. We were about the same height, five-five, and with a similar build. If Mother had let me grow up with my birth father, I might have looked as polished as Elizabeth, assuming he was a step-up from Billy Hancock.

“Pleased to meet you. My name’s Lilah Hancock, and I prefer to boast about my own achievements instead of those I’m going to inherit.”

Maxwell choked into his soup.

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “I see you’ve become popular with my knights.”

I glanced around. “I didn’t see any men in armor on my way inside. Maybe you can point them out to me when you give me the grand tour.”

“You know what? I came here to warn you about what these two do to new girls, but I think you should discover on your own.” Elizabeth spun on her heel and stormed back to her table.

I didn’t watch her leave.

“Oh, dear,” said Orlando. “She’s not happy with you at all.”

“Should I be worried?” I asked in a voice that implied I couldn’t give a shit.

Maxwell shook his head. “She’s full of hot air.”

We exchanged grins and finished the rest of our meal in silence.

Maxwell tapped his foot at the side of mine in an attempt to make me play footsie with him, but I ignored his efforts.

No self-respecting girl would jump into bed with a complete stranger in an enclosed environment like a boarding school. Unless they wanted to be bullied and hounded by sanctimonious hypocrites for the rest of their days.

After a dinner of roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, and vegetables, Mrs. Campbell bustled down from the head table. “Come along and say goodnight to your new friends. Your room is ready.”

“Good night, Lilah,” Maxwell purred in a low voice that sent shivers down my spine.

Orlando winked. “Sleep well.”

Mrs. Campbell huffed about all the student rooms being occupied, which meant I had to take up a tower suite reserved for visitors.

I followed her through hallways lined with gorgeous, mountain landscapes and the occasional portrait of one of the many noblemen who had occupied the title of Lord Liddell over the centuries.

“Where did you say you were from, dear?” asked the deputy headmistress.

“London.” My gaze caught a portrait of a handsome blond man with the same honey-blond shade of hair as Elizabeth.

One day, her portrait would adorn these walls. If she had any sense, she would choose Kendrick as her husband. The other two were fun, but it was hard to take a guy seriously who jumped from one girl to the other.

“Your mother and father?” asked Mrs. Campbell.

A knot formed in my stomach. People asking that kind of question usually wanted to know what my parents did for a living.