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“How did you know this was my intended destination and not in the gardens?” Minerva slid into the seat opposite him.
He took his seat and replied, “After valiantly winning your freedom, why would you venture into the dark and risk scandal? The gardens made no sense.”
She placed her pieces in their original positions. “And what if I had simply wished for fresh air?”
“Then you would have had Camdon escort you instead of sending him off on a foolish errand to try to delay me.”
Bishop in hand, Minerva stilled and looked up at him. “There are distinct disadvantages to your knowing me so well.”
Anthony picked up her queen that Camdon had captured earlier and twirled it between his fingertips. “Ah…but I would say there are many more advantages than disadvantages.”
“Such as?” Minerva sat back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Hmm… There are vast number of advantages. Which shall I share first?” He leaned forward and placed her queen in its rightful spot next to her king. “For starters, we are both fully aware of each other’s quirks.”
Minerva arched a brow at him. “Pray, share what peculiar traits I possess.”
Anthony grinned. “I love that you sing and dance with imaginary gentlemen in the gardens when you think no one is around. I love that you blink when doing arithmetic in your head. I love that you hum bawdy ballads while doing needlepoint. I love that you separate your peas on your plate and eat them last. I love—”
“Enough. You’ve proven your point.” Color flooded Minerva’s cheeks, and she rose to pace in front of the fire. The flames flickered over her form, highlighting every generous curve.
Unable to stay away, Anthony joined her by the fire. He stopped in front of her and leaned an arm over the mantel. He didn’t have time to waste. He needed information, and Minerva was the only one who could provide him with the answers. “Will you share with me what it is exactly that you stand to lose if I were to win our match?” He reached for her hands.
Minerva shrugged and replied, “Besides my pride?”
He gave her hands a squeeze and willed her to trust him and tell him her secrets.
She released a deep sigh and then added, “If I tell you, promise not to laugh.”
“Of course I won’t. Whatever it is, it is obviously extremely important to you.” He took a step forward and gazed down at her. In the firelight he could see the concern in her gaze. “I promise not to laugh.”
Her lips parted. He was about to finally discover her plans. His pulse raced and his heart thudded against his ribs. But then she closed her mouth and shook her head.
“I need to know, Minerva. I want to know what it is I’ll be denying you should I win.” He squeezed her hands once more. “Please. Remember when there were no secrets between the two of us. I’ve confessed my love for you. I hold no other secrets from you.”
Guilt flashed in Minerva’s eyes. What secrets had she managed to keep from him?
She released a deep, soul-wrenching sigh. “If you win, I shall have to abandon my plans to live in disguise for the remainder of the Season.”
Only Minerva would dare attempt such an elaborate scheme. He asked, “Whom would you be disguised as?”
She tugged her hands free and placed them upon her hips. A spark of defiance or anger—he wasn’t sure which—appeared and then quickly disappeared. In a clipped voice, she answered, “Madame Rose.”
“Madame Rose! You want to pretend to be the famous opera singer?”
“Who said I’d be an imposter?”
Impossible. Minerva couldn’t be Madame Rose. He shook the absurd idea from his head, but when his gaze returned to Minerva—the truth hit him. Minerva and Madame Rose were one and the same. “Bloody hell, Minerva, whom did you set your sights on to be your protector?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not in need of a protector.”
“If you have no intention of luring a gentleman to sponsor your Season, how do you plan to pay for lodging, food, clothes?”
“I’m an excellent saver. I’ve amassed enough funds. I merely want one Season to do as I please, and then I’ll resolve myself to the role of spinster.” She turned away from him and walked back to the chessboard. Minerva picked up a pawn before continuing, “And in time, I’ll become my nephews and nieces’ favored aunt.”
Stunned beyond words, Anthony stared at Minerva as if she were a total stranger. The woman was seriously considering giving up her life as a lady to become a bleeding performer.
Voices out in the hall spurred Anthony out of his stupor. They couldn’t be found alone. He marched up to her. She tilted her chin up to meet his gaze.
