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They shared a smile, and Prue almost wept. This simple conversation felt beautiful. In the end, she lost the match. As Oscar used a bishop to place her into checkmate, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed. She covered it by standing, leaving her empty glass on the floor next to the chessboard. “Thank you for the game and the lovely conversation. Perhaps we can do it again sometime.”
He nodded, far less tense than he’d been at the beginning of their match. He’d even doffed his jacket partway through. She could imagine many more nights like this one, spent talking and teasing and playing chess.
“You play well. You almost had me,” he said, the glint in his eyes one of admiration.
Although she’d placed him in check twice, Prue didn’t believe him. He was more practiced at the game than she was, but at least he hadn’t seemed to be holding back on her account.
“Thank you. So do you.” She gave him a cheeky smile and turned to collect her belongings. He retrieved the glasses and began tidying up, never mind that they employed a veritable army of people to see that everything was in its place.
At the door, she paused to say, “I have something to confess.”
She caught him bending over the chessboard, gathering up the fallen pieces. Warily, he straightened. “And what might that be?”
Brazenly, she said, “I think you should know that I am wooing you.”
He made another odd sound low in his throat before he smoothed his expression into an inscrutable mask. She was coming to adore surprising him. Her earl had always seemed so chillingly civil and unflappable.
“What are you talking about? We are already married.”
Prue gave him an innocent smile. “You’re a smart man. I’m certain you’ll figure it out.” She was going to leave it at that, but the jealous side of her took hold of her tongue. “You aren’t allowed to take a mistress.”
He stiffened and his gaze narrowed thoughtfully, either at her audacity in making demands of him, or at the change in her. Mere weeks ago, when she’d been very much afraid that he already had a mistress, she would never have dared make the demand, fearing that he would tell her exactly how low she stood on his list of priorities. But knowing that he’d been celibate made her more confident. That, the casual evening, and perhaps the whisky.
When he found his tongue, her husband said, “Then the same must be said for you. You can take no lovers.”
She arched an eyebrow. “I am not the type to dishonor vows made before God and my husband.”
He held her gaze with steel in his expression. “Neither am I.”
She believed him. Most men of thetonwould have scores of mistresses, whoever pleased them at the moment. They were powerful men with powerful desires. But something tentative had formed between her and Oscar tonight. So yes, she believed him.
But in that conviction, she lost her glib tongue. “Good.” Before she embarrassed herself, she turned to leave. “Goodnight, my lord.”
“Wait.”
He crossed to her with quick strides and took her by the elbow. His bare skin on hers lit her on fire. Would he give her that kiss, after all? She turned her face up to his and whispered, breathy with anticipation. “Yes?”
He cleared his throat and dropped his hand. “I have neglected you.”
Shock jolted through her. “I…” What could she say?
“I held the belief that you were not comfortable in my presence, and I made little to no effort to seek you out. For that, I am regretful. Please accept my apologies, my lady.”
Prue nodded, too at a loss for words.
“I’ve also been an intolerably boring conversationalist. I shall rectify the matter.”
“I shall anticipate it.”
A small smile touched his mouth, and there was a look in his eyes she could not decipher. But how she wanted to know what he thought.
“Would you like to see a play with me tomorrow evening? I believe there’s one playing at Vauxhall.”
Prue couldn’t stop the effervescent glee that bubbled up inside of her. “Vauxhall? Truly? Yes! Yes, of course.”
She’d never been to Vauxhall Gardens before, despite her family living in London. Impulsively, she leaned forward and hugged Oscar, hearing the thump of his heart against her ear as she pressed herself to his chest. She pulled back every bit as quickly, excitement still coursing through her. “Yes,” she said again. “Thank you.”
He looked at her in a strangely tender way. “My pleasure, countess.”
