Page 85 of Hearts of Locke Hill

“Because you and your friends would descend in an instant with who knows what type of scheme. And I will not be at fault for that.”

She smiled. Andrew was definitely the more boring brother.

He gestured for her to have a seat, and she settled herself on the settee. Andrew took the chair across from her. He checked his pocket watch. “You’re a bit early for your meeting.”

“Yes, I’ve just turned in my lesson plans for the summer term and found myself with some extra time.”

“How are the preparations coming? Lydia has kept me abreast of the structural changes you’ve been making at the school.”

“Has she? You should come see for yourself sometime. It’s quite something to see an idea from one’s head become a reality. The grounds are lovely, if I do say so myself. I admit, it seems a dream at times. I’m sure once the students arrive, it will become real enough.”

She dropped her gaze to her gloved fingers, which had twisted the chain handle of her little bag into a knot. She quickly set her bag next to her.

“When does term start?” he asked.

Her chin lifted. “June first.”

He smiled. “Then, I shall make a trip out there before then.”

She returned the smile. “Thank you.”

Though she’d learned to pester Andrew as a young girl, he’d been a sort of brother to her—he’d looked out for their little gaggle of girls anytime they were at Briarwall, making sure they were safe, fed, and cared for. He’d allowed their “club” to continue when other guardians might have become tired of the noise and subsequent trouble they tended to find. She’d always guessed it was because he and Lydia had been orphaned while he was away at school, and although he’d taken on the responsibility of both parent and guardian to his younger sister, he’d still been just a boy himself. He’d given up his childhood but had allowed Lydia hers to the fullest extent.

Within the boundaries of propriety, of course. Andrew was, if anything, proper.

And now that they were both well into adulthood, she and Andrew had become friends. At least, she counted him as one.

Andrew leaned back and studied her a moment, a shrewd look in his eye.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m deciding whether or not to tell you I had an interesting conversation with Cyril Burke a few weeks ago.”

Her stomach tightened as she forced a laugh. “Well, do tell.”

He crossed one leg over the other. “He simply shared the predicament you’ve both found yourselves in and asked my advice.”

“What did you tell him?”

“To run.”

She pressed a smile at that, even as her cheeks grew warm and her gaze turned to the window. “Excellent advice.” She drew in a breath and blew it out. “He didn’t take it.”

“I knew he wouldn’t. He has his reasons. I daresay the worst part of his situation is you.”

She turned and scoffed. “Well, thank you very much.”

He leaned forward, folding his hands together. “Not like that. He only expressed that he didn’t know you’d be involved when he accepted your father’s offer, and I had the impression that he wished it didn’t have to be an ‘either, or’ situation. He has a great deal of respect for you, Miss Whittemore.”

She remembered the hurt in Cyril’s eyes that day as he’d turned away from the tower to make his way back to the school. It had cut her to the heart.

She straightened her shoulders. “As I do for him.” She was growing uncomfortable with this discussion, and yet she couldn’t quit it.

“Forgive me for being indelicate, but there seems to be more to your relationship with Mr. Burke than just friends of a friend.”

She pulled at the Irish lace on her cuff. “What makes you say that?”

He smiled kindly at her. “I’ve been his friend for a very long time. And, in that time, I’ve seen him respond when your name is mentioned, when he has spied you from across the way, whenhe excuses himself if you draw near. You may tell me if I’m wrong, and I’ll say no more.”