The Enemy

Chapter 9

Emma—November 2006

Despite being branded with her common, middle class status, private school at Charterhouse was going far better than she could have imagined. For one thing, the classes were actually challenging. She felt educationally fulfilled in a way she never had before. In addition, Emma never thought that she would already have two best friends. Lily and John Huxton made her feel like she could be herself. Well, sometimes she felt tongue-tied around John when they were alone together, but that was only because she got the most vexing tingly feeling whenever he laughed at one of her jokes or patted her shoulder.

She managed to turn right at the corridor she always missed and raised a hand to greet the two siblings. The familiar chatter of her classmates reached her as the students queued up for chemistry lab.

"Alright there, Emma?" Lily smiled. "Did you finish that torture Reston assigned last night?"

Emma smiled. Lily was the loveliest girl she'd ever met. The more time they spent together, the more she liked her.

"Please"—John snorted. "She headed directly to the library after class yesterday and had it finished in under an hour."

"Oh shut up, John," Emma said while failing to contain a smile.

"It's not normal." John shrugged his shoulders with exaggeration. "You're putting us rich folk to shame." Other of the Verites housemates gathered round and chuckled. "Whatever will we do now that you talented commoners have infiltrated our midst?" John raised his voice as more students nearby listened in.

Lily exchanged a look with Emma. John could never resist riling up the posh, snobby Saunderite house students who were also queued up for class. Almost every one of their parents had an estate or a noble name. Emma's parents were teachers. "Are you"—John began to boom—"here to run the nobility out of their rightful path? Is that it? Lord George Howards is right!" The Verites students all chuckled. "Bloody hell, he was right all along!"

"That's right," Emma said, laughing. "I'm here to nip at your pampered heels and show you that I'm coming for your livelihoods. And to serve as your personal tutor, John Huxton"—she speared him with her gaze—"naturally."

John chuckled along with the others and slapped her on the shoulder. "Quite right, Stapleton, quite right," he said and laughed as they walked into class.

Professor Reston had written instructions on the board: Today they were to work in pairs, and the partners had already been assigned. Emma took a step closer to the board to double check her assigned partner. Certainly there was some mistake."You're with Beck Howards?" Lily's mouth hung open. "And I'm with Penelope Miller? What is Reston on?"

Emma inhaled. "Whatever it is, I'd love to get some." She turned to her friends with a grim expression. She could feel eyes on the back of her head. "I'll be surprised if Howards doesn't have hired help arrive mid-lesson to wipe his arse and feed him Cornish hen."

The other two snorted.

She sighed and turned around.

Beck Howards sat leaning back in his chair in the farthest possible corner of the room. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was staring out the window. She turned away from him and took extra time copying down the instructions before heading over. He didn't make eye contact as she approached, and he wore a particularly sour expression. She perched on the edge of the seat next to him. Professor Reston explained the assignment. Emma took out last night's homework and moved to grab supplies.

"I'll handle the chemicals and you gather the equipment," he said.

Emma paused. He didn't even bother to glance in her direction before he stood up. "My pleasure, your highness," she muttered as he slid behind her chair on his way to the supply cupboard.

He froze. He turned with a scowl etched onto his refined features. "Are we going to have a problem, Stapleton?"

"I'm not the one with the problem, Howards."

Something shifted in his icy, pale blue gaze, and it sent a shiver down her spine; his eyes were so different from John's. They were cold and calculating.

"Let's agree to be civilised and put aside our differences for the sake of the lesson," he said. He regarded her down the length of his sharp, patrician nose. "Some of us need to maintain our grades in order to progress down our rightful path in life."He left before she could formulate a response, but her cheeks were burning.

She'd always known Howards was an absolutely narcissistic prat, and now she had first-hand experience. She ran a hand through her unruly brown hair and marched over to gather the vials, tubes, and burner.

"I may become a murderer this afternoon," she mumbled to Lily as she reached for a scale. "Promise me that you'll testify on my behalf in court?"

Lily's eyes darkened and focused on Howards. "It would be my pleasure."

Emma held in a snarl. Tryouts weren't for another couple of months, but she couldn't wait to get some practice at the clay pigeon targets that afternoon.