Page 91 of Hearts of Locke Hill

“She would love that.”

Violet took a steadying breath as Mr. Burke led her in the turns. “And your sons? How are they?” She couldn’t help theglance at Mr. Burke’s eyes, so like Cyril’s. She looked away quickly when he studied her in return.

“Charming as ever.”

She laughed along with him again.

“The three eldest are at school,” he continued. “The youngest two struggle to survive one another. Simon and George are at Guildford and come home on the weekends and holidays. Oscar is on his tour, and Cyril is at Oxford working hard in his studies.”

She nodded, her heart tripping at his mention of Cyril. She forced her feet not to do the same. “Is he enjoying Oxford, do you think?” she dared to ask.

The man bore a proud smile. “It all comes quite naturally to him. I suppose it’s in the blood. Always had a head for learning. But you know that probably better than anyone.”

She lowered her gaze and nodded. “I suppose. Does he ever come home?”

“Why yes, he was just here for—”

He quit his sentence abruptly, following it with a quiet grunt, likely realizing the intent of her question.

She looked away, allowing her gaze to blur.

“You’ve not heard from him, then?” he asked quietly. “How long has it been?”

She swallowed and tossed him a grin. “Not since he left, years ago.” She forced a laugh. “Not even a scribble to boast of his marks, can you imagine? I’m quite lost without his taunting.”

He watched her steadily.

She blinked away unshed tears. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Of course not,” he promised, and a confusing wave of disappointment lapped at her senses.

She frowned. “Growing up is quite a conundrum, isn’t it, Mr. Burke? One has an idea of what it might be, where it mightlead. But there are so many variables. So many people making decisions as well. Decisions which impact any person or situation they touch.”

“Ripples in a pond,” he said, nodding.

“Yes. It goes crisscrossing on and on, and one can find oneself very far away from the clear path they’d intended.” She chuckled. “Or, at least, the murky path they’d hoped to discover as they stumbled and lurched.”

Mr. Burke looked at her then, much as a father might look upon a beloved daughter. It was nearly her undoing, just that bit of endearment. “My dear Violet,” he said. “I’m going to say this once, and so I want you to listen carefully.” She nodded and he narrowed his gaze. “Your path is not linear, with one branch and one direction to one end.”

“Tell that to my father,” she grumbled.

He gave her a conciliatory smile. “Nonetheless, life meanders, it turns sharply, it branches and intersects, and sometimes the bottom drops out. But I believe if you stay true to yourself, you cannot fail. You might even fly.”

Her brow wrinkled in doubt. It would be something to fly.

“You have an exceptional mind, Violet. I think you already understand that the true failure is to stop moving forward. Everything else is recovery, then try and try again. Step by step.”

He was correct, of course. That truth was embedded inside her. Drove her. That part of her labeled “competitive” by others, she knew, inside, was the need to succeed. She was her own opponent. For better or worse. And only one other person in this world understood when she had battled him or herself.

“Cyril always said something like that,” she said.

He nodded as the tune wound down to its close. “Well, it’s nice to know something stuck in that thick skull of his.” A laughescaped her and he grinned. “Don’t tell him I said that.” Mr. Burke released her and placed her hand on his arm.

“Thank you for the dance,” she said.

“My pleasure.” He glanced about. “Now. Fill that dance card I know you’ve been hiding. You’re far too elegant a dancer to waste a good ball.”

She fought a laugh. “Elegant? Middling perhaps, after years of lessons.”