She looked at him. “Then let us play this game to settle this situation,” she said. “If you win, I will no longer question your presence here. You can stay for as long as you wish and do whatever you deem necessary whilst you are here. But if I win, you will go. No questions, no argument. You will take your men and go.”
Douglas had a feeling that was where she was going with this. He shook his head.
“I cannot leave without my brother’s order,” he said. “I have told you that.”
“And I do not care about that,” she said. “You will leave on my order and you will tell your brother that you did. This ismycastle, Sir Douglas. If I do not want you here, then you will go.”
He could hear that bristling determination in her voice again. It was clever—she couldn’t physically make him leave and didn’t have the manpower to force him out, so she was going to rely on a battle of wits. It was perfect, in truth, because he’d lied to her. He wasn’t merely passable in his skill with this game.
He was an expert.
Perhaps if he agreed, she’d settle down… once and for all.
“Very well,” he said. “If you wish to take your chances with this, then I am willing.”
“Good,” she said, now happy. Or, at the very least, eager. She rushed to the solar door and yanked it open, calling for a servant, whom she sent for wine. As the servant fled, she returned her focus to Douglas. “Please sit. I am eager to commence.”
I would not be if I were you,he thought, but he dutifully took a seat at the table. The set was quite beautiful, with an elaborate board made from opalescent stone and pieces on one side carved from the same stone. The other side had pieces carved from darker stone. It was an elegant game, a man’s game.
But Isabel wanted to dominate it.
Douglas would have liked to have toyed with her, but he honestly didn’t have the patience. Isabel had been difficult from the start, and if she wanted to settle this, as she said, then he was going to settle it on his terms. He’d played chess enough with his father and brothers to know that he was one of the better players in his family, and he doubted Isabel could compete. Chess was a game of strategy—and since he was excellent with military strategy, and Isabel wasn’t, he was confident he could end this quickly.
He was going to try.
“When was the last time you played, Sir Douglas?”
Isabel was positioning her pieces to make sure they were in the correct spots. Douglas was doing the same thing, picking them up one by one, blowing off the dust, and then setting them down again. They were both pretending that this was a casual affair when the truth couldn’t have been more different.
The stakes were high.
“I was just trying to remember,” he said, setting his last piece down. “Probably around Epiphany. My mother has an enormous feast that lasts about three days and all we do is eat and play.”
“Sounds charming,” Isabel said, sounding like she really meant it. “I have no family any longer. I have often regretted that.”
“Did you play this game with your father?”
She nodded. “Often,” she said. “He was very good.”
“Did you win?”
She glanced at him. “As much as he would allow.”
Douglas had his eyes on the board, already planning out his strategy. “I will not allow you to win if I can help it,” he said. “I hope you are not expecting that.”
“I am not, Sir Douglas. But I will not allow you to win, either, if I can help it.”
“Then the rules are established.”
“They are.”
“Ladies may go first.”
Isabel settled down, her gaze fixed on the board. The servant came and brought drink, handing Douglas a cup and extending one to Isabel, but she brushed the man off. He set her cup down and departed the solar, shutting the door behind him, but she never gave notice. She was focused on the board.
Finally, she moved.
Her first move was unspectacular. A pawn moved one space forward. Douglas was looking for a particular move that would open up her king, because he could end the game in about two moves if she were foolish enough to do that, but the pawn she moved was at the very end.
