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She replaced the knight on the board and peered at him. “Why would you wager for such an exquisite chess set when you don’t play?”
He wasn’t ready to admit how often he played while alone with this very set, when others believed him to be preoccupied with an imaginary mistress. Instead, he replied, “I like to win no matter what the prize is.” His reply garnered a smile from Minerva.
He needed to be closer to her. He slid his chair in and leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, and waited. Waited for her to begin their game.
“Whom did you win it from?”
Apparently, she wasn’t in as much of a hurry to leave as he first thought. “A fellow peer.”
“Ah, I see you are set on keeping your secrets.” Minerva picked up a pawn and studied it for a moment. “Shall we make the game a tad more interesting?”
“You want to wager more than your word to marry?”
She continued to study the chess piece, which was worrisome.
Wary of raising the stakes, yet curious, Anthony asked, “What do you propose?”
Lips curved into a smile, Minerva answered, “Every time I place you in check, you shall share one of your secrets, and vice versa.”
The odds were not in his favor. But if his calculations were correct, there was only a slim chance Minerva would place him in check more than once. He could afford to give up one secret.
The glint in her eyes gave him pause. Maybe one secret was too much. He had watched every game she’d played over the past three Seasons, and many more before that. First to act, she would adopt a very aggressive attack strategy. Would he be able to mount a counter-defense?
Betting on his skill, Anthony replied, “Rather than the person in check deciding what secret to divulge, may I suggest they must answer a specific query instead.” He wanted to confirm if Minerva’s plans included traveling abroad or if it was all a ruse.
With a decisive nod, Minerva placed her pawn two spaces forward.
If they were only to play one move each time they met, the evening would be over as soon as he made his move. Not ready for Minerva to leave, he stared at the board and weighed his options. Go aggressive or make a defensive first move?
The susurrus of Minerva’s skirts interrupted his thoughts, which were quickly replaced by vivid images of her bare thigh. Not that he’d ever seen her bare thigh, but he had frequently fantasized about her naked. If he didn’t rein in his imagination, he’d find himself reaching over the board and toppling its pieces to kiss her.
Damn. Double damn.
He should be guarding his best friend’s sister’s reputation, not placing it in jeopardy. It was imperative she not be seen by one of their peers in this part of Town. If he cared about her as he claimed, then he needed to act. Make his move.
His hand hovered over the row of pawns, moving left to right and back to the left again. He could mirror her move, which was most likely what she expected him to do, or he could move his rook’s pawn a single space, which she would consider a mistake on his part and a huge boon for her. Anthony opted for the latter.
Minerva stood with her hands on her hips, her gaze focused on the board separating them. “What a surprising move on your part. If this is the level of play I should expect from you, my dear friend, the game shall be over in…”
She tapped her chin with her forefinger, a habit that drove Anthony to distraction. However, her emphasis on the wordfriendclearly reminded him that that was all he was to her…a friend, a friend she was helping out.
Minerva made her way across the room to the settee where he’d placed outer garments. “…a fortnight.” She slid her hand into a glove and wiggled her fingers, and Anthony had to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. Who knew donning gloves could be so evocative?
Minerva slipped on the other glove and added, “Yes. It shall take me no more than a fortnight to claim victory. Then you shall be able to emerge from the shadows.”
Victory? Shadows? He blinked to refocus his wayward mind. “Will you be able to return tomorrow?” Anthony held his breath as he shook out her cloak for her.
Minerva stepped closer, and he wrapped the thick material about her shoulders. Face to face he wanted to experience her lips upon his once more, but he stepped back, placing a good foot between them. She was his best friend’s sister, not a paramour to dally with. No matter how strong her pull was, he had to refrain from kissing her again. Having been taunted by the taste of her for two days, he might not succeed at stopping or being satisfied with only a kiss.
She looped the ribbons of her cloak and tied a knot. “Not tomorrow. I’m to attend a private dinner party with Isadora, Charlotte, and Avondale at Lord Camdon’s residence.”
“Camdon?” When in the blazes had the man returned to England?
“That is what I said—Lord Camdon. What do you know of him?” Minerva peered up at him with a twinkle of interest in her eyes. “Isadora believes he might be a worthy challenger, but Charlotte’s information on the man was unusually sparse, which I surmise means the man is not that worthy.”
Camdon had been one of Anthony’s closer friends at university—that was, until he was recruited by the Foreign Office and shipped off to the Continent. Anthony had corresponded with Camdon on a number of occasions over the years. He had lived vicariously through his friend’s missions from the safety of his home. It would be grand to be able to visit with his old friend.
Why had he agreed to play the match in secret?
