Page 30 of Hunted By the Guardian
So Jonathan threw his rock as hard as he could. It hit the water and caused a much bigger splash than Noah’s had.
Noah’s face fell, but only slightly. “Can you teach me to do that?”
“Sure I can,” Jonathan agreed. “Maybe you’ll be the winner next time.”
“Now, hang on,” Violet interjected. “This contest isn’t decided yet. You said I should participate too, Jonathan. Don’t I get a turn?”
He inclined his head. “Of course the lady gets a turn. Have you chosen your rock?”
“I have.” She held one up. It was approximately the size of the one he had thrown, but not bigger. She might be able to make a decent-sized splash, but she didn’t have his arm muscles—she wouldn’t be able to throw as hard as he had. This was a formality.
She hefted the rock in her hand, turned—and threw it sidearm upstream.
It collided with a current of water. The splash that rose as the current fought the rock was enormous. It put both Noah’s and Jonathan’s attempts to shame.
Jonathan stared. She had really done it. She’d won the contest, and it hadn’t been particularly close.
“Wow!” Noah cried. “I didn’t think you were going to win!”
“Oh, you didn’t?” She grinned at him. “Why not?”
“Well, I just thought that Jonathan was the strongest, especially after he threw that rock.”
“I think he is the strongest,” Violet agreed. “But strength isn’t everything, Noah. You must use whatever you have to help you succeed.” She glanced at Jonathan and smiled. “When someone is stronger than you, you must be more clever than they are. That’s how I won this game—by my wits.”
“That was clever,” Noah agreed with a broad smile. “Maybe I could do it too.” He chose another rock. Hurling it upstream, he created a splash that was slightly smaller than Violet’s had been, but much bigger than Jonathan’s.
“Good job.” Violet patted his shoulder. “I see that our dear duke will have to settle for last place today. Why don’t we go and eat our lunch, now, before the bugs get to it?”
They made their way back to the picnic blanket and settled in. “I’ve never played a rock throwing game before,” Noah said, accepting the sandwich Violet handed him.
“Nor have I, actually,” she said. “But it was fun, wasn't it?”
“Yes,” Noah agreed. “I think…I think Madam Margaret would have liked it.”
“I think she would too,” Violet agreed gently. “She did always like to have fun.”
“We used to play games together sometimes,” Noah said, his voice turning wistful. “She would wait in the sitting room while I hid, and then she would search the house for me.” He hesitated. “Maybe we could play that game sometime?” He looked from Violet to Jonathan.
“I played a game like that when I was a boy,” Jonathan recalled.
“Who did you play with? With Madam Margaret?”
“No, I didn’t know her then,” Jonathan said. “I met her only very recently. No, when I was young I played with the son of the stable master—that was, until my father told me I ought to stop.”
He noticed Violet watching him closely, broke off, and took a big bite of his sandwich. What had he been thinking, bringing up his past—his father? That was one subject he certainly did not want to get into.
Violet must have noticed, for she turned her attention back to Noah. “You were lucky to have someone to play with,” she said.
“I was lucky to meet Madam Margaret at all,” he said. “I know that. Before I met her…I had no place to live. And she brought me here, to this beautiful home, and I never want to leave.”
“You’ll never have to,” Violet said firmly.
“Noah,” Jonathan said. “Why didn’t you have a place to live before you came here? You must have had a family before this?”
Noah’s face darkened. “I don’t remember,” he said.
“You don’t know who they are?”
