Page 107 of Hearts of Locke Hill

“I shall not argue.”

“How novel.” He threw her a wicked side-glance, unsettling her pulse more than her ego.

After a deep breath, Violet crouched down. She carefully took aim and shot her taw.

A sound of disappointment was interrupted by a cheer as an unintended mark rolled into the outer ring after being struck broadside.

Violet stood, clearing her throat. “I meant to do that.”

Cyril conceded with a nod. Insufferable man.

She retrieved her won marble and dropped it into her little bag, then studied the taw’s new position. It had been years since she’d played this game. Her only encouragement was that it had likely been years since Cyril had played as well.

She chose a marble close to the boundary line but a bit farther away than some. If she could just give it a good bump, it would roll out of bounds. Violet crouched, wishing she’d worn breeches, and knuckled down with her taw. “Have at thee,” she whispered.

Clack.

She grinned up at Cyril. This might not be so ridiculous after all.

Y

Cy knelt in the dirt, rolling his pink taw in his fingers. He’d removed his coat a couple of turns ago, and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows. Violet had shed her bolero and now paced next to him as she awaited her next turn.

“Will you please stop pacing like that?” he asked with a sigh.

“Oh, is it distracting you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Good.” She continued pacing.

He muttered words under his breath.

“Beg pardon?” she goaded, leaning forward.

Spencer chuckled and Oscar coughed.

He leaned toward her so they were nearly cheek to cheek. “I said, ‘Everything about you is distracting me.’”

Though Mrs. Whittemore gasped and Mr. Whittemore cleared his throat loudly, Cy delighted in watching Violet turn a warm shade of pink.

She straightened herself, fighting a smile, but her pacing did not resume. He’d count it as a win.

Y

“You just knocked out three at once!” Violet exclaimed as if she were the only witness. A smattering of applause proved that wrong.

“I did, yes.” Cy tried not to gloat.

“This isn’tbilliards, Mr. Burke,” she said, folding her arms.

“Ah. That explains the lack ofcues, Miss Whittemore.”

“Well, you don’t get three more turns.” She spun to Lydia, who was whispering with Andrew. “Doeshe?”

Florrie and Oscar joined in the quiet discussion. They all seemed to reach an agreement, and Lydia stepped forward. “The games committee has determined that Mr. Burke gets a single bonus turn for his success.”

Violet spun, feeling smug, and grinned at Cyril.