Page 27 of Save Me (Maxton Hall #1)

We can hear the music and loud voices even from outside.

For a split second I consider faking a sudden illness and getting out of here.

But I don’t want to give James the satisfaction.

So I just rub my hands on my skirt and clear my throat.

James gives me a sideways glance that I ignore.

Then he opens the front door with a key that, weirdly, he has on his key ring.

We walk into such an imposing entrance hall that it distracts me from my nerves for a moment.

It has a marble floor and magnificent furniture in subtle tones, accented in gold and white.

There’s a huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and on either side, a double staircase curving up to a gallery.

At first glance, you’d think the party filled the entire house. The music seems to be coming from another room, but there are guests here in the hall too. None of them pays us any attention. I give a sigh of relief.

“What are they doing up there?” I ask James, pointing to twenty or so girls and boys standing on the gallery.

“Playing a game that only works at Cyril’s,” he replies. “Kind of a version of beer pong.”

I watch as a guy drops something that turns out to be a bunch of table tennis balls over the railing. Some of them fall straight into a row of glasses down here in the foyer, but most miss. That makes the blokes cheer and a couple of girls screech, and it seems like all of them then have a drink.

“I don’t get it.”

“Me either,” he says.

“You made it!” someone yells from upstairs.

I look up just in time to see Cyril swing himself onto one of the banisters.

He holds on tight, then slides down to us.

Just watching him makes me feel sick. Wren pops up beside him but seems to prefer the safer option and takes the stairs.

As he walks, he tips back his head and drains his glass.

Cyril gets to us first and greets James with a half hug, slapping him on the back. “I hope we made you proud today.”

I feel James tense beside me. “Yup,” he says in a neutral tone that’s not exactly overflowing with joy, yet without betraying the frustration he must have felt at not being allowed to play himself.

Cyril’s gaze lands on me. “And you are…?” he asks, as his ice-blue eyes scan me from top to bottom. He eyes my white blouse with blue vertical stripes and black pleated skirt, looking like he’s about to turn up his nose.

Arsehole. Like he’s better looking just because his black shirt probably cost more than my entire outfit.

“Ruby.” James jumps in to introduce us. “Ruby, this is Cyril.”

“Ruby! Alistair told us he’d invited you.” Wren grins as he comes toward us. I fight back the urge to look away.

“Hi,” I reply, forcing a smile onto my lips.

He says a quick hello to James, then returns his gaze to me. His leering, supercilious smile is sending me a clear message: This is my realm. I pull the strings here.

The next moment, James puts his hand on my back. “Cy, be a good host and offer us a drink.”

He’s speaking in that I’m-James-Beaufort tone, and although I’d never let him boss me around like that, it doesn’t seem to bother his friends.

They just laugh and lead us past the stairs to the back of the hall.

In passing, Cyril picks up a couple of the balls and throws them back upstairs, then he opens a door that leads to a large room.

It’s a sitting room, smaller than the entrance hall, but there must still be at least fifty people in here, chatting or dancing. The music is deafening, and smoke gets up my nose and makes my eyes water.

I’ve only been to a handful of parties before.

Small get-togethers in the park in Gormsey and—once—a classmate’s fifteenth birthday party.

She invited me out of fake politeness, and I went because Mum insisted on me at least trying to make more friends.

I ended up spending half the evening standing in a corner kind of bobbing weirdly to bad music and counting the minutes until I could go home.

The sight that meets my eyes here is a million miles from that.

Instead of cheap beer in plastic cups, people are drinking expensive spirits from crystal glasses.

The music comes not from a cheap Bluetooth speaker but from a sound system with speakers built into the walls. And I can see acres of bare skin.

So, this is what a posh party’s like.

I look around, trying to take everything in. The bass is so loud, the floor is shaking under my feet.

When I look around again, I see a conservatory joining onto the room. It houses a huge brightly lit swimming pool—not that I’m going anywhere near that.

There are a couple of people swimming in their underwear, splashing anyone standing near the edge. Others are sitting, smoking, on velvet-covered sofas that look like antiques and must be worth a fortune.

I’m so overwhelmed by the situation that I don’t take in what James is asking me at first. “Sorry?”

James leans down a little so that his mouth is level with my ear. “I asked what you’d like to drink, Ruby Bell.”

A shiver runs down my spine and goose bumps spread over my arms. I ignore both. “Coke, if there is any. Or water.”

James leans back slightly and looks me in the eye. “Do you mind me drinking?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Great. I’ll be right back.”

The next moment, he and Cyril have vanished. Wren stays put, looking at me with that knowing smile on his face again.

“You don’t drink?” His voice is pure provocation.

It’s only sheer willpower that stops me turning on my heel and walking away from him. Or yelling at him in front of everyone. But I’ve managed to ignore him for two years—I’m not going to let a few silly comments rattle me now.

“No,” I answer curtly.

Wren comes a step closer. I step back.

“Why not, Ruby?” he asks, taking another step toward me, until I feel the wall at my back. “Had a bad experience with alcohol?”

I can smell the booze on his breath and see how wide his pupils are. I’m wondering if he’s off his face on more than just whisky.

“You know exactly why I don’t drink, Wren,” I reply coldly, straightening my shoulders. If he doesn’t leave me alone, I seriously will hurt him. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see, on my left, a dark wooden sideboard dotted with assorted statues and lamps.

I know how to defend myself.

“I have lovely memories of that evening,” Wren answers. He raises his left arm and rests it on the wall beside my head.

“I don’t,” I hiss between gritted teeth. Until now, he’s always left me alone at school. Never even hinted at what happened that night two years ago—so why suddenly here?

“Are you sure?” he whispers, coming closer.

I can’t take it anymore. I thrust out both hands and push him hard away from me. “I have no interest in repeating it, Wren.”

He takes my hands and links our fingers together. I look around in panic. “I can still hear every word you whispered to me.”

“That was only because you got me drunk.”

“Oh, really?” He’s got that dirty grin on his face again. “Alcohol brings your secret thoughts to the surface, Ruby. You wanted it just as much as I did.”

I freeze as the memory of that night now comes back to me: Wren’s panting breath, his restless hands all over my body. The thought makes me burn up. Partly with shame and partly because I was actually enjoying it. But the way it happened bothers me to this day.

Wren has opened his mouth again when a voice speaks behind us, sounding firm yet bored. “Leave her alone, Fitzgerald.”

His eyes widen, and I look past him in surprise. Lydia has joined us. She gives Wren an irritated glare, then takes my hand without another word and pulls me away from him, out into the room a little. It’s not until we’re out of earshot that she looks at me, eyebrows raised.

“Who’d have thought that you of all people had a dirty little secret?”

Panic floods through me, and I clench my fists. But before I can say a word, she lifts her hands. An amused smile plays around her lips. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

I stare at her, and it takes me a moment to grasp what she said. “I don’t care who knows about it,” I say defiantly, even though we both know that’s a barefaced lie.

If I could, I’d wipe that whole evening right out of my memory.

I had just started at Maxton Hall. It was the first event I got to go to, and I was so jittery and nervous that I happily drank every cup of punch that Wren brought me.

I didn’t know he’d spiked it from his hip flask.

And when he pulled me into a corridor and kissed me, I was euphoric.

Wren was one of the most attractive boys I’d ever seen.

And he wanted me. Having my first kiss with him was such a rush.

It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized how wrong it had been of him to get me drunk without my knowledge, or how na?ve I’d been. Since then, I haven’t touched a drop.

Opposite me, Lydia raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? I’d have thought you were more bothered about your reputation than that.”

“Snogging someone once two years ago after he spiked my drink won’t do much damage to my reputation. It’s not like having an affair with a teacher.”

I regret the words the moment I’ve said them. Lydia goes as white as a sheet. The next second, she takes a threatening step toward me. “You said you’d keep your mouth shut. I—” She falls abruptly silent and moves away again.

“ There you are.” James comes over and hands me a glass of Coke with ice and a slice of lemon. He’s holding an expensive-looking crystal glass of something brown in his other hand.

He looks slowly from me to Lydia. “Everything OK?”

“Could you get me a drink too, brother dear? My glass is empty,” Lydia says, batting her eyelashes exaggeratedly.