Page 56 of Hearts of Locke Hill

She did have a point, though it was not a strong one. Still, those nerves had not settled and were flitting around like midges over a pond. The cool marble rolled smooth and hard between her palms. This was ludicrous.

She paused, an unsettling sensation settling upon her anyway.“Am I to understand … that is … do youwantthe marble to be significant? To your brother, I mean?” She gulped, remembering her and Cyril’s exchange earlier on the balcony. Heated, but not in the angry way.

Her gaze darted between Ruby and Lydia, both now very interested in opposite corners of the room. Ruby fidgeted with the clasp of her handbag. Violet must put this idea to rest immediately, or there would be no end to their scheming. She knew this because she’d been part of their scheming too many times. “You do realize that Mr. Burke and I are currently at odds? And that I have had as much a place in his life in the past decade as he has had in mine? That is to say, none? You are placing a lot of weight on a very small, albeit lovely, little rock.”

There. That should do it.

“But the way you look at each other,” Lydia said.

Violet’s gaze shot to her friend’s.

“And the history you share—all of those years,” Ruby said.

Violet looked at Ruby, her mouth half open.

Lydia leaned forward. “And at the dinner table, he was farthest from you but the first at your side to offer help.”

Violet scowled at the reminder of the incident, and Lydia shut her mouth in a small grimace that in another situation might’ve been adorable.

Ruby leaned toward her. “I remember, Violet, when you would come to Oakleigh, and I would get to watch some of your lessons. I looked forward to the chance. Do you know why?”

Violet sighed. “Why?”

“Because I delighted in watching my brother be more himself, more of who he wasgoingto be, when he was with the beautiful and spirited Violet Whittemore, than when he was with any other person I ever observed him with.”

Violet’s heart pounded at the disconcerting, lovely confession. “You were a baby!” she said, perhaps too defensively.

Ruby straightened her shoulders. “I was ten years old when he left for university. And quite observant. You weren’t the only precocious child in the universe, you know.”

Violet sighed and placed a hand over each eye. “I cannot believe this day,” she muttered. She’d so admired the intelligence and pluck of her Wendy-birds. What had happened? “A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse.”

Lydia giggled, then closed her lips. She took on a pleading air. “He is trying so very hard to be fair,” she said, “when so many other men would have scoffed at your challenge.”

Ruby nodded in agreement. “We thought,” she said in her quiet, thoughtful way, “that perhaps these marbles weren’t very different from thimbles and acorns.”

Violet stood violently. “Thimbles and acorns? Surely you’re not referring to—” She paced swiftly to the harp and back. She threw out her arms. “I’m beginning to have an inkling of what Julius Caesar might have felt when he last entered the Theatre of Pompey. How can you possibly compare marbles won in a child’s game of ringtaw to Peter Pan and Wendy exchanging”—she wrung her hands—“exchanging—”

“Kisses?” Lydia asked with a wide grin. “Do not forget, they were children too.”

A terrible feeling hit Violet like a bag of sand. She clutched her chest. “Does Florrie know of your”—she gulped—“hypothesis?”

The women exchanged knowing glances, and Violet dropped to her chair with a groan. “It isherhypothesis,” she concluded.

All was lost.

“Where is Florrie?” she asked. “You’d think she’d relish this assault.”

“She had to attend a business meeting with her father,” Lydia said. “She was quite put out.”

Violet slumped in her seat. “I’m sure she was, lucky girl.” She rubbed her temples. “Do you think the Janeses would notice if I suddenly switched places with their daughter? We could blame it on fairies. I suppose I’m too tall. Perhaps if I bounced more, it would not be so apparent. Of course, that would mean Florrie would have to pass for me, and that would never do. Though, she could likely run this school with one hand tied behind her back.” She sighed, pushing herself upright, and held out the marble to Ruby. “Put it back where you found it. You cannot, cannot allow your brother to get wind of this, do you understand? It is conjecture and imagination and—”

“Romantic?” Lydia suggested.

“Damaging!” she cried. “The idea of me pining for Mr. Burke via marbles or acorns would absolutely undermine my already precarious position as a capable, forward-thinking, independent woman!” She took Ruby’s hand, set the marble in it, and stepped away.

“What if you pined for him via some other way?” Ruby said, eyes full of hope.

“I do notpinefor your brother! I am not the pining sort!” She folded her arms. This entire conversation had gotten away from her. “No offense, Ruby, darling.”