Page 64 of Hearts of Locke Hill

“You must remind him how to have fun.”

“I know how to have fun,” he said. True, he had a lot on his mind of late.

“I think she means beyond stealing meritable positions away from unsuspecting maidens.” Cy felt rather than saw Violet’s smug expression.

“If you’re an unsuspecting maiden,” he muttered, “I’m Peter Pan.” He turned his head to address her. “And I did not steal anything. If anybody was the unsuspecting maiden here, it was me.”

Her brow rose. “You should use that in your speech on welcome day.”

Miss Janes giggled.

Chapter 16

Violet caught the near-smile on Cyril’s mouth before he turned his attention back to the path leading to the school gardens. But instead of encouraging more teasing, it had the opposite effect. She immediately recollected that his father was gravely ill and in London at this moment seeking help. Unlike her own family, the Burkes seemed to like one another very much. Even so, if her own father were ill, it would still weigh heavily on her mind. Cyril and his father were close. She imagined he would be very troubled indeed.

And here they were, making sport of him. Granted, it had unwittingly been fed by Agnes, who continued to astonish them with a tale of a medium whose summoned spirit solved his own mysterious demise by naming his murderer.

It was a shame they’d disrupted Cyril’s morning enough to discourage his longer walk. He’d likely been looking for some solitude and a bit of peace. Several days ago, with Trent’s help, she’d mapped out her running course. If she were to live at the school, she needed to run somewhere, and the distance to the tower and back—and the fact that most of the path was in the trees beyond school grounds—made it the obvious choice.

“I’m sorry if we’ve delayed your exploration of the grounds, Mr. Burke,” she said when Agnes seemed to break from her talesfor a moment. “Especially if you glean somefunout of the venture. Don’t let us keep you from it.”

“Not to worry, Miss Whittemore,” he said without turning. “I’ll venture farther another day. As it is, I should pay my office—er, myhalfof the office, some attention if I want to be ready for the term next week.” He turned then. “You’ve done me a favor. No time like the present.”

Agnes nodded. “So long as you put some fun into every day, Mr. Burke, I wager your spirit will greatly benefit.” She glanced behind her at Violet and Florrie. “I’m holding you to it, ladies. The four of you.”

Violet frowned, glancing between her and Florrie. “The four of us?”

Agnes scoffed. “As if you and Miss Janes would take on any challenge without Misses Wooding and Burke.”

That was true.

“Oh!” Agnes exclaimed. “Miss Burke is your sister, Mr. Burke. That should strengthen the spiritual effectiveness of the undertaking.” She looked quite pleased.

Violet watched Cyril’s broad shoulders rise and lower in what was likely a resigned sigh. “Naturally,” he said.

Y

After Florrie had trotted off home with Agnes in tow, raving over how she could claim to know her lady’s maid at all if she didn’t know she was a spiritualist, for heaven’s sake, Violet eyed Cyril as he sorted through a box of his own books and placed them on the lower shelves of their office bookcase. He chose several, in particular, and carried them to his desk, placing thembetween bookends depicting a pair of elephants, each standing on hind legs as if keeping the books from falling.

“Elements or elephants,” she murmured.

“What was that?” Cyril asked.

She blinked. “Oh. Just … admiring your bookends.”

He glanced at them, then back at her. “They were my grandfather’s. Brought back from India after his tour.”

“The grandfather who founded the Guildford school?”

“That was my great-great-grandfather, but his grandson kept it thriving.”

“They shared the same passion?”

He crossed the room to his box of books. “Education was important to him as well, though I think it was more the act of a dutiful grandson.”

“What was your grandfather’s passion, then?”

After a glance back at the desk, he met her gaze. “Elephants.”