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“Your attention is not on the game tonight,” he said, picking up her queen. “Normally, you would give me a much tougher game. Something on your mind you want to talk about?”
“Nothing.” She focused on the chessboard but knew it was a lost cause.
Nicholas took his turn and quietly said, “Checkmate.”
“Well played.” She moved her chair back. “Good night, Nicholas.”
Jennette wanted to escape the people and the noise of the salon. She slipped from the room and wandered down the hall until she found Lord Aston’s study. A small fire still warmed the study and the silence was too inviting to ignore. She poured a small glass of brandy, determined to drink only one glass, then go to bed.
Curling up into a leather chair by the fireplace, she stared at the dancing flames. A small sigh escaped her lips. In two weeks, her ship would depart for Florence. She loved her family and didn’t want to desert them but leaving appeared the only way to keep her secret safe and yet, her reason for departing had changed.
No longer did she believe disappearing would give Matthew a better chance at a happy life. His only hope hinged on her finding him the perfect woman—something she could never be. And the idea of staying here and watching him fall in love was unimaginable.
“Drinking again?”
Jennette closed her eyes and sighed. “Did you follow me here, Matthew?”
“Yes.” The sound of his footsteps indicated he’d moved closer to her chair. “Do you think brandy is the answer to the problem?” he whispered.
“What do you care? Drinking helps me forget. Besides, you should be with Mary.” Jennette blinked. He strolled to the brandy, poured himself a snifter, then took the seat across from her.
“Mary had a headache and went to bed.” He gave her a sensual grin. “I didn’t think I should follow her.”
“No, that would be completely inappropriate. As is being in here with me.”
“And yet, you are not rushing to leave.” He brought the snifter up to his perfectly shaped lips and took a sip.
Jennette knew she should run before her desire raced out of control. But her body refused to move. Lethargy had set in with just a few sips of brandy. If she stayed, she could watch him, stare at him, imagine being with him.
God, no she couldn’t!
“How are you and Mary getting along?” she asked.
“Well enough.”
“But…?”
He shook his head quickly. “I have to admit I am worried that she might not be up to the task of being mistress of my estates. She appeared to worry when I mentioned the number of servants.”
Jennette stared down into her brandy remembering the rumors she’d heard about the conditions of his estates. “I didn’t believe you had so many servants that she would need to worry over.”
“I don’t at this point in time. However, once I marry I shall need to hire some.”
She pursed her lips for a moment. “And Mary has most likely never had a need to hire a servant.”
“Exactly. They only have the house in town. How many servants could that support?”
“Not many and probably her mother and father handled everything.”
Matthew nodded. A piece of chestnut hair fell upon his forehead until he pushed it back. She had never cared for hair as long as his but there was something about it on him. The reckless look suited him. Her fingers tingled with a desire to rake through those strands.
“Are you well?” he asked gently. “You are looking very strangely at me.”
“I am sorry. I was lost in thought,” she replied.
“About?”
About? She had to think of something quick. “Do you think Mary will suit you as a wife?”
