Page 105 of Hearts of Locke Hill

Lydia turned back to them. “Yes. A contest. It has been brought to the attention of the games committee—”

“Games committee?”

“Yes,games committee, that while Miss Violet Whittemore has forfeited her right to govern this school, it was also made clear that Mr. Cyril Burke would rather eat nettles than concede to that forfeit. Therefore, the games committee has stepped in as a third party to settle the matter once and for all and without further ado.Viaa contest.”

A smattering of half-enthusiastic applause made the round. Florrie’s applause, however, was wholly enthusiastic.

Lydia held her hands out. “Thank you, thank you. Now, if you’ll all follow me, we may begin.”

Violet turned to Cy, her eyes wide as the crowd moved toward the lake. “What do you suppose?”

“I’ve no idea.”

She shook her head. “I admit I might have asked them for help.”

“As did my father.”

“What?” She scoffed but smiled.

He pulled her after the group on the move. “Heaven help us. We seem to be at their mercy.”

She snorted. “Games committee,” she mumbled under her breath.

Y

After a short walk, Lydia paused, and the group spilled around her, forming a circle. “Here we are,” she said.

Violet took in the display before her. A large circle about seven feet across lay drawn in the dirt with chalk. In its very center lay a smaller circle with two dozen marbles scattered within its boundaries.

Florrie clapped her hands. “Well done, Georgie.”

George blushed. Oscar nudged his brother sideways.

Violet ignored them as she calculated the reasons she and Cyril would be brought here. She looked to her parents, then to her Wendy-birds. Then a dreaded shudder moved through her when both Ruby and Andrew stepped forward, each holding out a small muslin drawstring bag.

“Violet and Cyril,” Lydia continued, “receive your taws.”

Cyril reached for the bag in Andrew’s hand, and Violet held her breath.

“Ahem.” Ruby drew her attention, and Violet took the bag she offered.

In tandem, Cyril and Violet tugged open the drawstrings and dropped a marble taw into their hands.

Violet stared, her cheeks warming. “You—but I—We—”

“I know,” Ruby said quietly, compassion in her gaze. “Trust us.”

In Violet’s hand lay a white marble with lapis-blue speckles. And what was even more horrifying, Cyril held a very familiar pink quartz marble in his.

Cyril wrinkled his brow at the marble in her palm. “Is that … mine?”

Violet snatched her hand closed. “It can’t be. I’m the only one who knows where I’ve been keeping yours.”

His brows raised suggestively. “Kept it in a special place, have you?”

Violet opened her mouth in retort, but Lydia interrupted. “The who and how of both marbles’ appearance is insignificant.”

“Hear, hear!”