CHAPTER 7
The week blurred by in a haze of routine lectures, whispered gossip, and Elizabeth trying very hard not to think about Professor Stone's voice, hands, or the way he looked at her.
After their encounter in the detention room, he'd disappeared.
Gone on a "personal trip," or so the staff said.
The rumor mill was starving and wild, as usual. Some said family emergency. Others, something "academic." But Elizabeth wondered if he was just running. From her.
Meanwhile, the school buzzed with excitement. The annual fall dance was around the corner, and Bridgerton Academy had gone full aesthetic, twinkle lights strung across marble archways, velvet banners in the school colors, and students whispering in corners about plans, outfits, and who they might finally get to kiss.
No one was more excited than Amara.
"I'm finally going to lose my virginity," she announced dramatically as they walked side by side to the school bus heading into town. "Chad and I already talked about it. We've done, like, everything but actual sex. We were just waiting for the right moment, and guess what, babe. it's here."
Elizabeth choked on her laughter. "That's TMI, my lady. Too much information for my feeble British ears."
Amara grinned like a fox. "You'll survive. Don't act like you're innocent either"
Most people took one look at her and assumed she'd done it all. But the truth?
She was a virgin.
She'd had her fair share of boyfriends back in London but none of them had been worth it. None of them had made her want to give her V-Card away.
They never made her feel what she feared she might feel if a certain professor ever touched her.
She shook the thought away.
"I'm more innocent than I look," she said finally, with a wink that made Amara laugh as they climbed onto the bus.
Soon they were in town and the bus came to a stop and Amara dragged her into a boutique.
The boutique in town was all glass, velvet, and soft jazz playing from invisible speakers. Bridgerton Academy students practically swarmed the place, every rack picked through with desperate excitement.
Elizabeth drifted between the aisles, thumbing through satin and sequins while Amara bounced from display to display like a kid in a candy store.
"Oh my God, this is it!" Amara squealed, holding up a scarlet mini dress that could've doubled as lingerie. "I could totally see myself getting laid in this."
Elizabeth pulled her phone from her bag to send Brittany a picture. She eyed a few dresses but nothing quite called out to her.
Amara was already halfway into a changing room, giddy over her find. "Pick something sexy!" she called out through the curtain.
Elizabeth smirked faintly, letting her fingers trail over a navy blue slip dress when a familiar, grating voice sliced through the background jazz.
"Well, if it isn't Bridgerton's own duchess of doom."
Kacey Van Doren.
Elizabeth didn't turn immediately. She finished examining the dress, slowly turned, and found Kacey standing behind her. Her two minions flanked her like trained pets.
"If I had a dollar for every time you popped up uninvited," Elizabeth said, folding her arms, "I'd probably be able to buy the moon. It's giving stalker at this point."
Kacey's smile didn't waver, but her eyes flashed. "Relax, Duchess. Just checking if you've found something that doesn't scream hand-me-down."
Elizabeth raised a brow. "Says the girl dressed like the joker."
A muffled gasp came from one of Kacey's minions, but she quickly masked it with a cough when Kacey shot her a glare.
"You're funny," Kacey said. "It's cute. Delusional, but cute and that accent? It's even cuter. Like a rescue puppy trying to bark with the big dogs."
Elizabeth stepped closer, voice low and razor-sharp. "Keep it moving queen bitch. I don't have time to talk"
Kacey leaned in, her fake smile barely holding. "Careful. People like you don't last long in places like this."
"People like me?" Elizabeth tilted her head. "You mean people with brains?"
Before Kacey could reply, Amara burst out of the changing room in her scandalous red dress. "Tell me I don't look hot as fuck right now—" she paused, immediately sensing the tension. "Oh. Great. It's Satan in stilettos."
Elizabeth didn't even flinch. "We were just wrapping up."
"Come on, girls," Kacey chirped. "Let's go before we catch whatever STD these two have." Then she turned and sauntered off, her minions in tow, hips swaying like she'd just won something.
But what Elizabeth didn't see was the glittery bracelet Kacey slipped off a nearby display and tucked into the outer pocket of Elizabeth's bag.
She adjusted her bag on her shoulder, unaware of the trap now sitting inside it. She turned to Amara with a sigh. "She's exhausting."
Amara rolled her eyes. "She's like herpes. Just when you think she's gone, she shows up again, itchier, and begging for attention."
Elizabeth snorted. "Gross, but accurate."
They started toward the front of the boutique, Amara still raving about the red dress and whether to pair it with stilettos or combat boots, when a sharp voice cut through the soft jazz playing in the background.
"Excuse me, miss."
Elizabeth turned.
A short, stiff-looking store manager stood behind her, flanked by a security guard.
"I'm going to need to check your bag," he said, lips pressed in a tight, uncomfortable smile.
Elizabeth blinked. "What? Why?"
"We were alerted to an item that may have been placed in your possession without being scanned," the manager said, a bit louder now.
A few heads turned. Whispers. A flicker of judgment passed through a nearby group of girls from Bridgerton Academy. Elizabeth's stomach dropped.
"I didn't take anything," she said, her voice sharp with disbelief.
The manager gestured to the bag. "If you have nothing to hide…"
Amara stepped forward. "Hold on, this is insane. She didn't steal anything. I was with her the entire time."
The guard crossed his arms. "Just open the bag, miss."
"I didn't take anything," Elizabeth said, confused.
But the man was already reaching.
And there it was.
The bracelet.
Amara gasped. "That is not hers."
"I'm going to have to ask you to step outside," the manager said. "Security's already been notified."
People were staring now. Whispers rippled through the boutique like poison in water.
Elizabeth's face flushed crimson. "This is insane. I didn't steal anything, check the cameras—"
"I assure you, we will. But right now—"
"Is there a problem here?"
The entire group turned.
Professor Stone stood tall, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a black leather wallet. His gaze was icy calm. He looked every inch the authoritative figure—even in civilian clothes.
"She's my student," he said evenly. "And I'd like to know what gives you the right to publicly accuse her of theft."
The manager stuttered. "Sir, it's protocol. We have footage of her… picking up a bracelet. We just need to confirm it wasn't—"
"Then check the footage again," Aiden replied, stepping closer. "Because if you had, you'd see that she was nowhere near that display after a certain point."
The manager's eyes flicked toward the counter. A cashier had come over, already whispering with one of the staff near the register. The bracelet had a tag that triggered the store's internal alert system.
"There seems to be… a misunderstanding," the manager said stiffly, now clearly embarrassed. "I'm very sorry, Miss Whitmore."
Elizabeth clenched her jaw, her cheeks burning. "Right."
Aiden turned to her. "You okay?"
She nodded slowly. "Yeah."
His eyes held hers for a beat longer than appropriate. Then he glanced down at her bag.
"Let's go," he said to both girls, calm but firm. "You've done enough shopping for today."
Amara blinked. "Wait, are you even allowed to—?"
"I'll handle it," he muttered.
And just like that, they walked out of the boutique, Professor Stone leading the way with that same effortless command that had silenced a room full of onlookers.
Amara fell in step beside Elizabeth, her eyes gleaming with barely contained glee. She nudged her best friend, then mouthed dramatically, "So hot."
"Stop it," Elizabeth hissed, though a secret thrill danced in her chest. He'd been watching her.