Page 81 of Cruel Hearts

Elizabeth’s mouth slackened, her bottom lip trembling. I shook my head, marveling at the girl’s audacity. Why in the holy highlands would she expect Kendrick to say nothing at her throwing him under the bus?

Mr. Burgh squeezed his eyes shut and pinched his nose. “Miss Liddell,” he said with a weary sigh. “If I were to review the closed-circuit television camera footage, what would I find?”

Her eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”

“Would I find footage of Mr. Deloraine and Miss Hancock dragging you through the grounds against your will?”

Elizabeth gaped at him, her face paling. Triumph flared across my chest, and my nostrils flared with vindication. Holding back a smirk, I folded my ams and waited for Elizabeth to crumble under the weight of her lies.

“I require an answer,” said Mr. Burgh.

She clutched at her stomach, her face twisting in a rictus of faux-agony. Doubling over, she moaned, “Call my mother!”

Mr. Burgh shook his head, seeming to take that reaction for a transparent and crappily executed diversion tactic. He pointed at the hallway. “You two wait for me in the living room. I’ll have a word with Miss Liddell.”

Less than a minute later, Kendrick and I sat at opposite ends of a sofa in front of the fireplace. Neither of us spoke, and I busied myself with watching the dancing flames. They cracked and popped in counterpoint to the ticking of the grandfather clock. When it chimed eleven, a groan slipped from my lips.

“What do you think is happening up there?” I asked.

“Hopefully, Mr. Burgh’s knocking sense into Elizabeth.”

“That might be impossible with her thick head.”

Kendrick snorted, his lips curling into a half-smile. My brows rose. I still marveled at how two identical people could have such different personalities. We might never become bosom buddies, but I considered anyone who didn’t align themselves with Elizabeth a friend.

The doorbell rang, and light footsteps raced down the stairs. Kendrick and I shared a glance. Hopefully, this was Mrs. Campbell here to drag Elizabeth to the sanctuary. Someone needed to brick up that spoiled little princess in an impenetrable tower.

“Mother?” Elizabeth screeched from the hallway.

I couldn’t make out Lady Liddell’s murmured reply, but heels click-clacked in time with the grandfather clock. Moments later, the older woman swept into the room, clad in a Cruella de Vil coat with a matching hat. She removed the hat and shook out her short hair. I waited for her to take off the coat, but she didn’t even unfasten it. Was she naked under that fur or what?

Elizabeth entered behind her mother, gulping mouthfuls of air like she was trying to psyche herself up for tears. Mr. Burgh walked in after them, looking drained and totally fed up.

Lady Liddell stopped behind the armchair on our right and cast me a disdainful glance. “Duncan, what is the meaning of this?”

Mr. Burgh gestured for her to sit on the armchair by the fire. “Miss Hancock and Mr. Deloraine caught Elizabeth ransacking Delilah’s room, and now Elizabeth is accusing them both of sexual assault.”

The haughty expression on her face fell, and she lowered herself into the seat next to our sofa. She cast Kendrick a nervous glance. “Miss Hancock, I can understand, but Kendrick—”

“Nobody touched her,” I snapped. “She cried rape so she wouldn’t get punished for trashing my room.”

Mr. Burgh walked around the sofa and sat on the armchair on the left, while Elizabeth moved to my end of the sofa, looking like she was going to perch herself between Kendrick and me. Not wanting to be sandwiched between her and her awful mother, I scooted toward Kendrick and made space for Elizabeth to sit near the old cow.

Lady Liddell curled her lip. “Perhaps history is repeating itself, and your granddaughter pilfered something of Elizabeth’s.” Lady Liddell turned to her deranged daughter and gave her an encouraging nod. “Isn’t that right, darling?”

“She’s stealing everything from me,” Elizabeth’s bottom lip wobbled. “First she took the boys, and now—”

“Enough,” the older woman snapped.

This wasn’t about the betting slip as I had thought. Twisting in my seat, I narrowed my eyes at Elizabeth. “What were you going to say?”

“My daughter is clearly upset.” Lady Liddell stood and wrenched Elizabeth up by the arm. “Why don’t we return tomorrow and talk about this—”

“No.” I shot out of my seat, raced to the door and slammed it shut.

Lady Liddell bared her impossibly white teeth. “There’s a penalty in this country for false imprisonment.”

“Elizabeth said she wasn’t going to be Esau,” I said. “What does that mean?”