Ollie’s nose crinkled. “But you hate games of chance.”
“Chess is not a game of chance. It’s one of strategy, one I very much enjoy given the right opponent.” I didn’t actually consider Damon the right opponent for me, but Ollie had no right to speak for me, and he needed to know it.
Ollie resumed his place at the hearth, and Damon led me to the table and assisted me with my chair.
“What manners,” I said. “Thank you.”
“I know this may be surprising to you, but some women find me charming.” Damon walked around the table and settled into his seat.
“You are correct,” I said.
“That I’m charming?”
“No.” I laughed. “That I find it surprising.”
With a frown, Damon pointed at my side of the board. “White goes first.”
“As I’m well aware. You have no need to explain the rules.” I’d gotten enough practice playing the game while Mama had lain in her sickbed.
Damon held up his hands in surrender, relaxing back into his seat.
I studied the ebony and ivory squares, considering my first move. The chessmen laid before me were made of ivory; intricately turned and carved, they were lovely to distraction. The king and queen were adorned with reticulated crowns and surmounted by fleur-de-lis finials. The rooks, bishops, and pawns, though simply designed with rounded bases and simple collars, were equally becoming. But the detailed knight and its windswept mane captivated my attention.
“Do you know the history of this game?” Damon asked.
“No.” I moved one of my pawns two spaces forward. “But I expect you’re about to tell me.” Damon, always having his nose stuck in a book, had a wealth of random bits of useless knowledge. I’d forgotten that about him.
“Indeed.” He perused the board. “There was once a tyrannical king of India. A wise man wanted to show the king that each person in his kingdom had value: pawns, rooks, bishops, knights, kings, and so he invented this game.”
“A revolutionary concept.”
“That each person has value?” he asked. “Is it?”
“I daresay onlyhalfthe population is assigned to any legal value, and then only the noble and great ones have a voice.”
“I suppose you’re correct.” Damon moved his knight. “But it should not be so.”
My forehead tightened. Did he really think that all people, regardless of their sex or station, should have a say in their government? I believed it to be so, but for a future peer of the realm to think so, well, thatwouldbe revolutionary. I searched his face for answers, but his expression was as stony as the cobblestone streets in London. I must have misunderstood him; such a belief would not serve a man in his position. I returned my gaze to the board.
“Don’t look now,” Damon said, “but it seems our experiment is working. Ollie is beside himself with jealousy.”
“Truly?” I started to turn.
“I saiddon’tlook,” Damon snapped. He stole another glance, then nodded to me when it was safe.
I peeked over my shoulder. Ollie glared at the fire, his mouth turned down and brow creased. He looked miserable. As miserable as me. With a heavy heart, I turned back to the game and made a mindless move.
Damontsked, then unrepentantly captured one of my bishops. He placed the intricately carved knight on the square where my bishop had been.
We continued alternating moves. I’d capture one of Damon’s pawns, and then he’d claim two of mine. He was infuriatingly good at this game. I needed to be more focused.
I studied the board for a long moment, but there was nothing for it. Until I set my mind at ease, I could do little more than offer up sacrifices to Damon. “Do you really think Ollie will marry Miss Digby?”
“Her or someone like her,” Damon said absently. “If you leave now, he will have no reason not to.”
Though I’d tried to convince myself otherwise, Damon spoke the truth. Ollie was nothing if not single-minded, and it seemed he had a mind to pursue and marry Miss Digby. Unless I did something to prevent it—like drive him mad with jealousy and make him realize his feelings for me.
Perhaps Damon’s scheme wasn’t so ridiculous after all.
