Page 82 of Hearts of Locke Hill
“Rather too much, I think,” he said. His hands remained on her shoulders. “But …”
She moved toward him, and he stiffened his arms, keeping the distance between them. Her chin hitched a touch higher. “But?”
He swallowed, then straightened his shoulders. “Violet. I’m entering the working class. Whether as headmaster of this school or something else, I must work.” He frowned, trying to make her understand. “Circumstances … honor … dictate that I provide an income for my family. No matter the outcome with my father.”
“And you think me above such circumstances?”
“Of course.” He heaved a breath. “Your family is one step below peerage, and mine is scrambling to keep our chimneys intact.”
She stepped back, and his hands fell to his sides. He was well acquainted with the fierceness in her eyes. “With all of our past and all you know of me—aside from the past ten years whenyouchose a cut direct—are you accusing me of being a snob?”
He shook his head. “Try to understand—”
“Are you telling me, the daughter of a suffragette and a voice for equality and change, that I would be deterred by that? With my future happiness at stake?”
“Your future happiness?” Cy drew himself up. “What do I know of your future happiness, except that you want to be headmistress of a school you’ve built with your own brilliance and determination? And you detest the man standing in your way!”
“I just kissed that man I detest!”
“So you can see howtryingit is to determine how best to make youhappy.”
“Happy? I haven’t been truly happy for adecade. You left me. You, who after kissing me, then urging me so stoically not to allow anyone to break me—youbrokeme!”
“I did what I thought was best. Foryou. I know you better than anybody, Violet.”
“You don’t know me better thanmyself, sir. Even at fifteen I might have had an answer that brought happiness to both our lives. A compromise ofhope.”
He paused, temporarily silenced, considering how it might’ve been if things had been worked through differently.
She took advantage of his silence and stepped to him once more. “Ten years of wondering, of looking for you, of not daringto ask your family how you’ve been, of bruised feelings turned cold. Of once again being put in my place. But it wasyou, Cyril. You, of all people, should not have been the person to dash all my hopes of men.”
He swallowed hard. “I felt the trial of it as well. You must believe me. My heart was not uninjured. Even now.”
The soft green of her eyes brightened.
“But, Violet, if you are to have success in anything you undertake, whether it be the school or some other brilliant, edge-of-society course, you must know that your reputation must remain pristine. Your connections must be … untouchable.”
“But Lydia—”
“Lydiahas her brother Andrew. Who doyouhave?”
She drew back, her wide eyes blinking. As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they had been a mistake.
“Forgive me, Violet. I did not think.” He pushed a hand through his damp hair as she turned away, her arms wrapped tightly around his coat. “I did not think of Daniel, and of course he’s your brother—”
“Quiet,” she softly demanded, and he stilled.
She walked to the tower’s arched entry. “The rain has stopped.”
Indeed, the sound of rain that had so fully surrounded them moments ago had ceased. Sunlight had managed to break through in a column over the meadow below.
“I feel him nearest at times like these, you know,” she continued in a quiet voice. “Abrupt changes in the weather. A sudden downpour. The first snowfall. A strike of lightning. Perhaps because I experienced all those for the first time with him.”
She turned again to face him. “But not meadows of wildflowers. Nor birds taking wing. Not a ballroom floor, nor achessboard. The taste of sweetgrass. Drinking songs and marbles. Those are yours. They always will be.”
He shook his head slowly. “Violet,” he whispered. “Don’t do this.”
She seemed to shake herself and take in their surroundings. She reached and ran her hand along the stone next to her. “You know, we’re all alone in this tower.”
