Cruel Shame (Knights of Templar Academy #3) - Sofia Daniel Page 0,63

that the old man would lift the financial burden from Mr. Burgh, but it was just a kiss. Any girl in the academy would jump at the chance to lock lips and other body parts with a hot guy like Orlando.

Then realization hit me upside the head. “That gay sex tape?”

Mr. Burgh nodded and lowered himself onto the sofa. “Nevis was still under the impression that Orlando and Maxwell were involved. He’s absolutely delighted at the prospect of one day having grandchildren.”

“So, good news for us?” I curled up at his side.

He placed an arm around my shoulders. “Good news for every student who suffered under the tyranny of Elizabeth Liddell.”

The next morning at breakfast, I lowered myself onto Orlando’s lap and gave him a long kiss on the lips. Cheers and wolf-whistles filled the dining room, and Miss Harper the Home Economics teacher stepped down from the head table to break us apart.

“Is this about the old man?” Orlando grinned, his eyes sparkling.

I plonked myself onto the chair and winked at Gideon, who sat up in his seat, looking scandalized with pursed lips. He and I both knew how naughty he was under that veneer of sophistication. “Mr. Burgh told me last night your grandfather would to help the parents sue the academy for negligence.”

Gideon leaned forward. “How so?”

It looked like Maxwell and Kendrick already heard the news, so I told Gideon everything Mr. Burgh had told me. Gideon’s face stilled. “It’s wonderful news, but I’m sorry you have such an intolerant grandfather.”

Orlando rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “I won’t repeat what he said when I got suspended, but the old bastard is obsessed with continuing the family line.”

Kendrick narrowed his eyes, glancing from Gideon to me to Orlando. Annoyance and confusion warred on his features. He looked like he was about to ask Gideon why he’d poke holes at such a generous windfall but then flinched. Either Maxwell or Orlando must have kicked him under the table. Kendrick’s eyes widened with realization and he returned to his porridge without a word.

“That’s one worry off our backs.” I leaned forward and told the boys that the archbishop offered Mr. Burgh his job back in exchange for him dropping the proceedings against the Liddells for defamation.

“What has he decided?” Gideon asked, his brows drawn into a frown.

I glanced at his empty spot at the head table and exhaled a long sigh. “He didn’t say.”

“It’s going to be a hard decision.” Maxwell squeezed my hand. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

I sat back in my seat and thought through my options. Apart from their money and connections, the Liddells’ best resource was information. It didn’t matter if it was true, like all the crap Elizabeth dredged up about Mother, or false, such as the counterfeit DNA test. They always seemed to have the right card to pull out in times of trouble.

Maxwell leaned into me, his silver eyes twinkling. “You’re thinking of something.”

“Actually, you thought of it first.” I glanced from left to right to check who might be lurking nearby. The students at the nearest table seemed half asleep and more interested in buttering their toast than in eavesdropping. “Remember your big plan with the DNA? I forgot to tell you that I have two more samples in my pocket.”

His face blanked. “Whose?” Then his eyes bulged. “No.”

“Both of them.”

“Father Neapolitan and?” asked Gideon.

“The archbishop’s.” I turned back to Maxwell. “We’re going to put it into action today.”

He stared off into space and nodded. “Leave it with me.”

Loud whispers spread across the dining room, and everyone turned in the direction of the double doors. I glanced over my shoulder to find Elizabeth walking in with dragging footsteps, looking like an invisible cattle prod at her back.

“What now?” Gideon said with a groan.

She stood with her legs apart and her hands clasped at her belly. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “This will be interesting.”

“I am apologizing for statements I made to the media which were later proven to be false.”

I cupped my hand behind my ear. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Sorry,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Statements that were later proven to be false,” I snarled. “Don’t act like you’re saying sorry for the wrong weather prediction. You knew exactly what you were saying when you went on national TV.”

Elizabeth stuck her nose in the air. “If you cannot accept an apology with grace then you must be

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