Page 8 of Cruel Hearts

Ignoring the twats leaning in to eavesdrop, I recounted the events of yesterday’s fashion show and how Elizabeth had smirked at me just before we had reached the row where my worst enemies had sat. “I’m sure Deloraine and Nevis can shed more light on this, as they were part of the plan.”

Orlando raised both hands. “I didn’t know anything about a drug bust.”

Kendrick stared down at his lap. Apparently, he wasn’t as adept at lying as his best friend and twin. But he had no qualms about allowing his asshole brother to use his identity to screw with someone’s mind.

“I’ll deal with you two, later.” Mr. Burgh turned furious eyes to Mother. “You could have at least told me to keep Delilah away from Glasgow.”

Her shoulders slumped. “I know that now.”

“This is very disappointing, Abigail,” he said.

Mother’s head snapped up to Mr. Burgh’s. “You don’t get to talk to me like I’m one of your students. I’ve done my best for this girl. I told you to hide her and what do you do? Let her gallivant to Glasgow on a school night!”

“It’s not his fault,” I said. “My textiles teacher took us all to an end-of-term fashion event.”

“You should have warned us that your husband would come to Scotland looking for Delilah,” added Mr. Burgh.

“I’m warning you now.” Mother folded her arms across her chest and straightened as though those words had set things right. “Billy asked me to wait here and find out where you’re staying. What should I tell him?”

“Does he know about the academy?” asked Mr. Burgh.

Mother shook her head. “Not a thing.”

“Tell him I take evening classes at the Edinburgh School of Fashion,” I said.

They had been in front of us in the fashion show, and I didn’t remember anyone announcing Templar Academy. Maybe it would work and the thugs from Richley would move onto another town.

Nobody spoke for a while. I turned around and found Mr. Burgh staring down at Mother for the longest time. It was as though he wanted to drink her in before she disappeared and never spoke to him again. I couldn’t blame the poor guy. This was probably the first time he had seen her since she had run away and gotten herself arrested in London.

She stared up at him with impatience in her eyes but didn’t speak. Maybe she was doing the same to him. I’d never had a father, and I couldn’t imagine any kind of a long-lost reunion.

Throughout this stand-off, I cast my gaze at Kendrick and Orlando, who gaped openly at my family drama. I clenched my teeth. Hadn’t either of them thought what kind of impact their actions would have on Mr. Burgh?

Orlando caught me watching him and frowned. I scowled at the asshole, wishing I could burn him with the power of my hatred. If the police found Maxwell’s fingerprints all over the fake cocaine, I hoped they would charge him on some trumped-up charge.

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to attend your mother’s funeral,” Mr. Burgh finally said.

Mother glanced away. “Morag Burgh wouldn’t have wanted me sullying her send-off.”

“She regretted her reaction—”

“That’s ancient history,” Mother snapped. “You two need to leave before one of Billy’s men comes and finds you.”

Mr. Burgh’s brows furrowed. “Abigail, will you be alright?”

“It’s too late to worry about my welfare.” She walked to the other side of the reception area and kept her back turned. “Just take care of her for me.”

A dull ache formed from the back of my throat, down my gullet and spread across my chest. She hadn’t once looked at me or even mentioned my name. But I was getting better. A year ago, that snub would have hurt like a knife in the chest.

Tugging on the sleeve of Mr. Burgh’s jacket, I said, “We’d better go.”

He watched Mother walk out of the door into the street and climb into an awaiting Bentley, a kaleidoscope of emotions flickering across his features. Sadness, regret, and finally heartbreak. I might have told him that it got better with time, but I wasn’t sure he would believe me.

“Mr. Burgh,” I murmured.

His jaw tightened. “We had better go.” He turned to Kendrick and Orlando. “The detective inspector in charge of the raid told me they would keep Mr. Deloraine the full thirty-six hours for questioning. You should return to pick him up tomorrow night.”

As we walked across the waiting room toward the exit, I turned around and met Orlando’s hazel eyes and then Kendrick’s gray ones and mouthed, “You’re dead.”