Page 74 of Rogue Lyon

Taking his time and studying the board, he worked out his best strategy. They were reaching the end game, so he had to be on top form.

He moved his king.

The duke moved a rook to a weak square.

Jules worked out his positions and took a gamble with a tactical repositioning of his queen.

It was then he saw it and his heart sank. He’d made a mistake. If the duke saw it too, he’d have Jules’s king boxed in within two moves.

And of course the duke saw it. His breathing picked up and he pulled on his ear. Excited. Getting ready to go for the kill.

There was nothing Jules could do about it and after two moves, the duke jumped up and punched the air.

“Checkmate.”

The crowd cheered, and there was much back-slapping and money exchanged as wagers came good.

Jules muttered a few curse words and frowned at the finished board. He should have known better; he did know better.

“Well done, old chap.” The duke held out his hand. “Great match.”

“Congratulations,” Jules said, forcing a smile. “You showed excellent skill.”

“And you too. I thought you were going to topple me a few times.” He clasped Jules’s shoulder. “A rematch sometime, yes? Over a brandy at my place.”

“I’d love that.”

Suddenly, Mrs. Dove-Lyon appeared on the stage. Her face was barely visible behind her veil and she held two envelopes.

The crowd quieted instantly.

“Gentlemen, I congratulate you both on reaching the final of the Lyon’s Den Chess Tournament. You have entertained us with your skill and nerves of steel.”

Jules didn’t feel like he had nerves of steel. It was taking every ounce of willpower not to look at Meredith. He didn’t want to see disappointment in her eyes.

Or pride for the duke’s win. That would be worse.

“Your Grace, here is your prize money.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon held the envelope to the duke.

“Thank you, thank you.” He beamed at the crowd. “This money will fund my archaeological trip to the very north of Scotland, where it is said an ancient Viking settlement named Tillicoulty lies buried. What treasures will it hold? What information about our ancestors?” He tapped the side of his head and excitement shone in his eyes. “These are questions that keep me awake at night and now I will get to go on a quest to find them out.”

His gaze fell on Meredith’s friend, the woman with the snake around her neck, who fluttered her eyelashes and then quickly looked away.

The duke cleared his throat. “And if I may, I would like to thank my chess tutor, Miss Meredith Jones, without whom my success would not have been possible.”

He gestured to Meredith, who smiled shyly and ducked her face to the floor.

“Thank you,” he said again. “For everything.”

Jules frowned but only briefly because then Mrs. Dove-Lyon handed him an envelope that he presumed held his runner-up prize money.

“Thank you.” He looked at the crowd’s expectant faces. He had no exotic trips planned to discover ancient ancestors, so he turned to Meredith and looked her in the eyes. “Like His Grace, I am indebted to my chess tutor, Miss Meredith Jones. A skilled, talented woman who could, I believe, beat any man here.”

“‘Meredith Jones’?” a gruff voice piped up. “What are you talking about, old chap? That is Meredith Habsburg, your wife, you fool. You told me as much in Paris, remember?”

Meredith’s cheeks paled as she looked into the crowd.

Jules followed her line of sight.