Cruel Shame (Knights of Templar Academy #3) - Sofia Daniel Page 0,41

my skin. Kendrick walked me across the courtyard and up the stairs.

I placed my finger on the brass doorbell, having left my keys behind in my room.

Kendrick stared down at me with solemn eyes. “I’ll wait with you in case the headmaster is still helping the police with their inquiries.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed a kiss on his lips. “Thanks for everything.”

He placed a hand on the small of my back and pulled me into his warm, hard body. “This weekend was not without its benefits.”

Translation: I’m too well-bred to say I had a good time, but you’re welcome. I drew back and gazed into his smiling eyes. Even though his words said one thing, he couldn’t keep his feelings under complete control. Maybe our time together had shifted the stick in his ass.

The door swung open, letting out a gust of warm air. Mr. Burgh stood at the doorway in a pair of black pajamas and a tartan dressing gown, looking like he’d spent the entire weekend wallowing in whiskey. His red-rimmed eyes narrowed at the sight of Kendrick, who murmured a goodbye and hurried down the stairs.

“Lilah,” he croaked.

I stepped into the entrance hall, wrapped my arms around his middle, and buried my head in his shoulder. The mingled scents of whiskey and cigars filled my nostrils. I hugged tighter. If I’d been here instead of out of town, maybe he’d have had someone to talk to instead of drowning his sorrows.

“Mother wouldn’t agree to come up and prove Lady Liddell a liar,” I murmured into his dressing gown.

Mr. Burgh drew back, his brows pulled together. “You went to London?”

“I had to do something.” I released the hug, placing my hands on my hips. “It was on TV, all over Twitter, and the stupid police tried to get me to say you did the same to me.”

“They brought you in?” He ran his fingers through his hair.

I placed a hand between his shoulder blades and guided him through the hallway, down the stairs, and into the kitchen, where a gust of steamy air engulfed us from a kettle boiling on the stove. Boxes from packaged meals littered the kitchen counter, some of them still containing their plastic trays full of food. I’d have to check the dates to see if he’d taken them out of the freezer or had been in the middle of unpacking his shopping.

“Sit down and let me make you a drink.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Mr. Burgh shuffled across the room and plonked himself into a seat at the large table.

While I gave him the highlights of everything that had happened since we parted ways in the hospital, I made a huge pot of strong, milky tea and prepared a hangover butty. It was a toasted sandwich my friends and I invented for the day after our monthly girls’ nights out. Two fried eggs, two rashers of bacon, a fuckload of cheese crammed between two thick slices of bread and fried in butter.

“How was Abigail?” he asked.

“Selfish.” I plated up the butty and placed it in front of him with a bottle of ketchup.

Mr. Burgh stared down at the fried monstrosity and didn’t ask for more details about Mother, and I didn’t volunteer them. The poor man was in the biggest trouble of his life and the last thing he needed was to worry about a woman who hadn’t spoken to him in over seventeen years.

He gazed up at me with a crooked smile. “May I have a knife and fork?”

“Sure.”

He cut the butty into quarters and pushed the plate in the center of the table, his way of saying he couldn’t eat it all. With a shrug, I poured a huge dollop of ketchup on the plate, added Worcestershire sauce, and gave my piece of butty a healthy dunking.

“Can we sue the Liddells for libel or unfair dismissal?” I bit into my buttie, filling my mouth with the oily, tangy mix.

He shook his head. “I’ve been suspended from duties pending an investigation.”

I stopped mid-chew. “What does that mean?”

“That the investigation can take place anytime,” he said. “That they can keep me in this limbo for the next two years until I retire.”

I chewed on the butty, not quite understanding the technicalities of being suspended. If he was still in the house, I guess they might still be paying his salary. After all, they knew he didn’t lay a finger on Elizabeth. He was also only doing his job