Chapter 14 #2
Lydia giggled, then closed her lips. She took on a pleading air. “He is trying so very hard to be fair,” she said, “when so many other men would have scoffed at your challenge.”
Ruby nodded in agreement. “We thought,” she said in her quiet, thoughtful way, “that perhaps these marbles weren’t very different from thimbles and acorns.”
Violet stood violently. “Thimbles and acorns? Surely you’re not referring to—” She paced swiftly to the harp and back.
She threw out her arms. “I’m beginning to have an inkling of what Julius Caesar might have felt when he last entered the Theatre of Pompey.
How can you possibly compare marbles won in a child’s game of ringtaw to Peter Pan and Wendy exchanging”—she wrung her hands—“exchanging—”
“Kisses?” Lydia asked with a wide grin. “Do not forget, they were children too.”
A terrible feeling hit Violet like a bag of sand. She clutched her chest. “Does Florrie know of your”—she gulped—“hypothesis?”
The women exchanged knowing glances, and Violet dropped to her chair with a groan. “It is her hypothesis,” she concluded.
All was lost.
“Where is Florrie?” she asked. “You’d think she’d relish this assault.”
“She had to attend a business meeting with her father,” Lydia said. “She was quite put out.”
Violet slumped in her seat. “I’m sure she was, lucky girl.
” She rubbed her temples. “Do you think the Janeses would notice if I suddenly switched places with their daughter? We could blame it on fairies. I suppose I’m too tall.
Perhaps if I bounced more, it would not be so apparent.
Of course, that would mean Florrie would have to pass for me, and that would never do.
Though, she could likely run this school with one hand tied behind her back.
” She sighed, pushing herself upright, and held out the marble to Ruby.
“Put it back where you found it. You cannot, cannot allow your brother to get wind of this, do you understand? It is conjecture and imagination and—”
“Romantic?” Lydia suggested.
“Damaging!” she cried. “The idea of me pining for Mr. Burke via marbles or acorns would absolutely undermine my already precarious position as a capable, forward-thinking, independent woman!” She took Ruby’s hand, set the marble in it, and stepped away.
“What if you pined for him via some other way?” Ruby said, eyes full of hope.
“I do not pine for your brother! I am not the pining sort!” She folded her arms. This entire conversation had gotten away from her. “No offense, Ruby, darling.”
Ruby sighed, looking a little too forlornly at the marble. “None taken.”
“On the other hand,” Lydia said, and Violet could hear her friend thinking, “perhaps the idea of Mr. Burke pining for you might absolutely undermine his determination to persist as headmaster.”
“Lydia,” Ruby said with censure. “That’s not fair.”
Violet considered, and her gaze narrowed.
What if Cyril had removed her marble on purpose?
What would he do if he knew it had been in her possession just now?
What if her friends were actually on to something?
She stepped forward and took the marble back.
“I beg your pardon, Ruby, but war isn’t fair. ”
Y
Cy pushed away from the wall, lips clamped.
The double doors to his right had been wide open, and the sound of his sister’s voice mingling with Miss Whittemore’s had drawn him from the corridor where he’d been searching for the supply closet.
He’d been told he could find basics such as pencils, notebooks, and file folders.
He’d clearly taken a wrong turn and found something much more interesting.
He’d had no intention of eavesdropping. But he’d halted when he’d heard Ruby mention his room and Patrick and had jumped out of the doorway when he’d caught sight of the small pink object in Violet’s hands.
He’d been mortified to learn the marble in his desk drawer had not only been discovered but recognized.
It was true that he’d removed it before giving the bag of marbles to Patrick.
But with the earlier-than-anticipated arrival of the Whittemore motorcar to take Cyril to the school, he’d dropped the marble and a few other items he’d yet to pack in the desk drawer to retrieve later this evening.
Apparently, Patrick had been more eager to move in than he’d expected. And Ruby had been more calculating.
He sighed heavily. Most definitely her friends’ influence. He frowned. Or her brothers’.
The rest of the conversation had pinned him to the spot.
That moment with Violet on the balcony had not left him.
Daring to step close to her as she showed him the tower.
Her captivating scent. Her reference to learning to swim.
The connection it stirred—his nearness had not been unwelcome.
In fact, he’d sensed that if they’d not been interrupted …
You do realize that Mr. Burke and I are currently at odds?
I have had as much a place in his life in the past decade as he has had in mine. That is to say, none.
Cy eased himself away from the music room as the ladies’ conversation turned to questions peppered at Ruby about secret passages she’d had the gall not to tell them about.
He’d listened hard to Miss Whittemore’s responses—for Miss Whittemore she would remain in address. He could not risk displaying any devotion he had for her.
He paused.
Or could he?
After all, why should he be the one to fear being exposed by a group of eager little busybodies playing at Cupid? If he knew Violet—and he knew Violet—she’d been a bit too tremulous in her responses, more defensive than playful. A bit too snappish than sarcastic.
He grinned. Thimbles and acorns, indeed.
He picked up speed, his mind turning with possibilities. Strategies.
After all, war wasn’t fair.