Page 104 of Hearts of Locke Hill

Cy threw his head back and laughed. Reluctantly, he stepped away and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere hopeful.” He blew out a breath. “I think.”

“What about all that talk of ‘You are royalty, and I—a mere peasant’ and whatnot?”

“That’s doing it a bit brown, don’t you think?”

“That’s certainly how it felt.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “I don’t know. I might’ve been wrong—”

“Might’vebeen?”

He smiled amusedly. “That wasbefore.” He recalled his conversations with Ruby and his parents. “Things are a bit clearer now. I don’t know … Come with me now, and we’ll see what happens.”

Her brow rose and she tipped her head.

“Please,” he said.

Her gaze swept to the school, then to the parapet before them. Then, with a single step, she took his hand.

Chapter 26

Cyril really did not know what to expect once Trent had left them and Violet had entered her cottage to change. She’d returned shortly, wearing a deep-blue pinstripe walking skirt and fetching cropped jacket over another of her lacy white shirtwaists. He’d noted she was fond of those. This time she’d pinned a golden winged scarab with opal and abalone inlay on the lapel of her bolero. Her buff-colored gloves met her sleeves at the elbows, and he couldn’t help thinking of the velvet-soft skin beneath those gloves. He offered her his arm, but she took his hand with a smirk, and now he escorted her across the front of the school to the lawn off the arcaded west terrace, breathing in her glorious scent as she moved.

As they walked, Violet peppered him with questions about his father, how his mother was doing, and Ruby, and whether they’d spent much time at Janes House, and what did he think of the Panhard Q motorcars, and had they really all fit? Oh, and by the way, she was still giving him the school.

He rolled his eyes.

Violet slowed as they approached the group waiting for them on the lawn, though she still allowed him to pull her along. Hugh Whittemore glanced at their joined hands, and Cy felt her tug away, but he tightened his grip and she yielded. He gave her thesame smirk she’d given him minutes ago. Hugh’s glare wiped it from his face though.

“Welcome,” Andrew Wooding said from the center of the group. “We’ve been waiting for both of you to join us.”

“What is this?” Violet asked, glancing from face to face.

Her friends Miss Janes, Miss Wooding, and Ruby were there, along with Andrew, Spencer Hayes, Cy’s brother Oscar, Mr. and Mrs. Whittemore, Mrs. Penhurst, and Mrs. Cole. All were waiting and watching with varying degrees of delight on their faces—or consternation, if you included Mr. Whittemore.

“Shall we get on with it, then?” the man asked.

Mrs. Whittemore set her hand upon her husband’s arm. “Remember, dear, we are only spectators.”

Cy’s brother George then walked up from the direction of the lake, brushing his hands together. “All set,” he said.

“All set for what?” Violet asked and looked to Cyril when no one answered.

Cy shrugged. “From this point forward, you know as much as I do. Or more. They’re your friends, after all.”

Miss Wooding stepped forward and clasped her hands neatly in front of her. “I hope after today, you will consider us your friends as well, Mr. Burke. Or Cyril. May I call you Cyril?”

Andrew sighed and covered his mouth. Mr. Whittemore looked to the sky above, and his wife bit back a grin.

“You may,” Cy said with a nod.

“Splendid. Please, call me Lydia. Now, if you’ll follow me, we’ll begin the contest.”

Cy and Violet halted. “Contest?”