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“Lord Drake only kisses me when I’m Madame Rose. Not when I’m Lady Minerva.”
“Yer not making sense. Yer one and the same, me lady.” Tibby raised the back of her hand to Minerva’s forehead. “Yer not fevered.” Hands back on her hips, she continued, “If Lord Drake was smart enough to figure yer location, he’s not likely to be confused about who he’s kissin’.”
“I’m not certain you are correct, but you were right about me. I’ve come to the realization that I don’t really want to be Madame Rose.” Minerva sank down on the settee. “I actually prefer my life as Lady Minerva with the option of being Madame Rose…for one night…on the rare occasion.”
Tibby sat on the floor then lifted Minerva’s skirts and peered and prodded at her knees. “If yer in love with Lord Drake, why not simply lose your match and marry the man?” Apparently satisfied with how the knees were healing, Tibby let go of the skirts.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Blimey, why do ye peers make things so difficult for yerselves?”
“That’s a very good question. One I don’t have an answer for.”
Tibby shook her head. “Wot are ye afraid of? I’m assuming Lord Drake has already declared himself. Why not marry the man?”
Minerva explained, “Because he’ll be marrying Lady Minerva, not Madame Rose.”
Tibby kneeled, cupped Minerva’s face with both hands, and stared directly into her eyes. “Madness sometimes comes with brilliance, but yer not soft in the head, yer simply confused.” She released Minerva and stood, hands on her hips. “’Tis time ye return home.”
Minerva smiled. “Only if you accompany me and meet my brother, Gregory.”
“Ye need to be focusing on yerself, not trying to play matchmaker.” Tibby turned Minerva around by the shoulders. “But since Jack already told me ye never deviate from a plan, I’ll go with you before ye badger me more.”
“Grand. Let me pack up and we can be off.”
“’Tis late. Leave yer things ’ere and I’ll bring them to ye tomorrow.”
With her injured hand, Minerva wouldn’t be able to carry much anyway. She held in a breath, letting the pang of regret subside. Letting go of Madame Rose was harder than she’d thought.
Carefully donning her cloak, Minerva scanned the room one last time. It was the right decision, but in a day’s time she would be forced to make a decision—win and remain Lady Minerva Malbury, a spinster for the remainder of her life, or do as Tibby suggested: forfeit the game, become the next Countess of Drake, and marry a gentleman who wished she was someone else. Neither were ideal.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Anthony entered theMalbury gardens through the service alley. He paused at the sight of rows upon rows of chairs flanking Minerva’s favorite chess set on the terrace beneath a mammoth awning. Bloody hell, how many members of thetonhad Kent invited? His best friend had promised invitations were to be restricted to family and close friends.
He mounted the stairs to the terrace and spied his host, Kent, who stood by the glass double doors.
As Anthony approached, Kent growled, “You are late.”
Anthony pulled out his pocket watch. “Actually, I’m exactly on time.” He scanned the crowd for his opponent. “Where is Minerva?”
“Inside. Avondale and his cronies are entertaining her and Isadora with stories of adventure and espionage.” Kent stepped in front of him, preventing him from finding Minerva. “A quick word.”
Anthony hated the idea that Minerva might be charmed by one of the gentleman agents from the Foreign Office. He snapped, “Make it quick.”
“Promise me you will succeed where Camdon failed.”
Instead of giving his best friend his word, he asked, “You ask this of me, even knowing I might place your sister’s life in danger?”
Kent frowned. “Under proper care, fatality rates from childbirth are extremely low. Plus you and I are nothing like our fathers, so it stands to reason our lives should be nothing like that of our sires.”
Phyllis joined them and looped her arm through Kent’s. “Drake, you must win today. I hate to fathom the schemes that the Head of the Foreign Office might consider implementing should you lose.”
“We’ve both rejected numerous offers from the Head of the Foreign office, and I’d expect Minerva would continue to decline, as I plan to do, even in the event she is to win today,” Anthony said.
He attempted to sidestep around the couple, but they shifted in unison, and Kent said, “I want your word on the matter.”
Until he could speak to Minerva in private and determine what future she truly desired, Anthony couldn’t give Kent his word. “You both know it’s no easy feat to defeat Minerva at chess.”
