Cassie went pale. ‘But that’s—’
‘Crazy, of course! But it is hard for Jake to ignore the gossip. He cannot stop thinking that perhaps Ranjit … well, I don’t even like to say it. It was a terrible accident, that is all, and Jake is grief-stricken. He cannot bear to blame it just on the school’s bad luck.’
‘Bad luck,’ repeated Cassie, licking parched lips. Dried-up …
‘Yes. Only bad luck. We are lucky Sir Alric has influential friends. Our parents, too. That is, I mean …’ Biting her lip, she blushed furiously and rushed on. ‘Such incidents can destroy a school, yes?’
‘Such incidents.’ At some point, thought Cassie, she would think of something original to say, instead of echoing Isabella like a dazed parrot.
‘Accidents, I should say. Another one a few years ago. Before that … well. Let’s not talk about it, Cassie. Let’s talk about Richard!’
Which, by that point in the conversation, Cassie had been more than happy to do.
Still, it wasn’t like Isabella to clam up. Hah! Great Understatements of Our Time, thought Cassie fondly. Oh, she was probably imagining things. Being paranoid. She wasn’t having any miraculous revelations just by standing on the stairs, anyway. Plus, she was hungry. Isabella would be in the dining room, and Richard too. She was supposed to be meeting him later, but it would be nice to bump into him now.
She was halfway down the flight of stairs to the third floor when she heard the voices. They weren’t muted. They rang out clear and confident, and she recognised them straight away.
Especially Richard’s.
‘Oh, come along, Katerina. It’s not like you to be insecure.’
‘Insecure?’ The voice froze Cassie where she stood, there was such malevolence in it. ‘I can’t think what you mean, Richard.’
A hidden door closed sharply, and Cassie jumped. The pair were in that long corridor with the rows of classical busts, the one where she’d tracked down Jake. The one that led to the Few’s common room, she realised with a jolt.
Giving its archway an anxious glance, Cassie ran down the stairs to the landing and ducked behind a marble-topped cabinet. An enormous gilded clock and two candelabra obscured her view, but she could peer past, just.
Mad, thought Cassie, almost laughing. Why was she hiding? It was only Richard. And Katerina, of course, but it wasn’t as if she was scared of the Polar Rottweiler. Still, when they appeared at the end of the corridor, she didn’t saunter out to say hello. Not yet. Those instincts kicking in again …
‘Darling, she’s a chav from the sticks.’ Folding his arms, Richard raised an ironic eyebrow at Katerina. ‘You don’t actually feel threatened, do you?’
Cassie’s whole body went rigid. For a moment she couldn’t breathe.
‘“A chav from the sticks.” What a quaint turn of phrase you have, Richard.’ Katerina sounded immensely bored. ‘That poor-little-scholarship-girl thing. How it vexes me. Such a mooning little kitten. Yet you seem to have a soft spot for her.’
‘Don’t be silly, Katerina darling. She’s pleasant company and I find her amusing. So do you, if you’re honest.’
‘Oh, hilarious.’ Katerina sniffed.
‘I’m not the only one with a soft spot, either,’ murmured Richard. ‘Jake can barely let her out of his sight, if you see what I’m getting at.’
‘Oh, yes. His protective instincts,’ said Katerina contemptuously. ‘She’s very like poor little Jessica, it’s true.’
‘Doesn’t that worry you?’ There was mischief in his tone. ‘Jessica was good-looking too.’
‘Why would it worry me?’ she snapped. ‘Ranjit had a silly crush on a girl who was beneath him. And that ended in tears, didn’t it?’ Her lips twitched as she checked herself in the nearest mirror. ‘He’s hardly likely to make the same mistake again.’
‘That’s what I love about you.’ Richard winked. ‘Such perennial optimism.’
Katerina shot him a baleful glare. ‘And that creature from the cattle farms encourages her to think above herself. Good God, darling, you’d think Isabella could at least encourage her to get a hairstyle and some decent clothes. Your “chav” can’t even pronounce Versace. She wouldn’t know Prada from Primark.’
‘Perhaps bella Isabella could give her some hand-me-downs.’ Richard chuckled. ‘No wonder Sir Alric hides in his office. I mean, one fairly dreads to think what the likes of Cassie Bell or Jake Johnson will wear to the Christmas Ball. The poorhouse rejects do nothing for the aesthetics of the place, do they?’
They were obviously planning to linger and bitch before heading downstairs, and Cassie could hear every word. She wished she couldn’t. Her cheeks burned with shame and fury, and she ached to leap out, grab a throat in each fist and tell these tossers what she thought of them. But something held her back.
Idly, Katerina twisted a lock of pale satiny hair. ‘I can’t think why Sir Alric encourages this scholarship nonsense.’
‘Now, now, darling,’ said Richard darkly. ‘You know very well why. Besides, it’s excellent public relations. A fine pickle we’d be in if Sir Alric wasn’t so skilled in that department.’
Even mired in miserable rage and embarrassment – how could I have been so stupid! – Cassie found herself intrigued. There was something wrong here. It wasn’t her imagination. The picture-perfect world of the Academy hid something very ugly: she was sure of it.