“You are relentless, Miss Bennet.”
“Did you expect otherwise?” She moved her knight. “I do not do things by half measures, sir.”
“As I am learning.” His attention remained on the board. “I find it…admirable.”
“I am all astonished.” Rolling her eyes, she returned to the game.
By move twenty-four, Elizabeth was building an attack that Mr. Darcy defended well, but not well enough.
Feeling the first flicker of respect, she said, “You are not a novice, are you?”
Darcy met her eyes across the board. “Being thoroughly humiliated by a superior mind is a powerful motivation.”
A look of recognition, not warmth, passed between them before they again paid attention to the game.
Two moves later,she sacrificed the exchange, rook for bishop, a brilliant tactical blow he did not see coming.
Studying the position, Darcy saw the consequences of her daring move unfold over the next several moves. “Extraordinarily bold.”
“You disapprove of the sacrifice?”
“On the contrary. I admire it,” he said, still mentally calculating the results. “Though I suspect I shall regret that admiration in approximately six moves.”
Her expression lightened. “You see it, then?”
“I do now. I am too late to prevent it, but I see it.” He paused. “Brilliant, Miss Bennet.”
His cousin leaned forward. “What did she do?”
Mr. Bennet replied, “See what happens next.”
Pressing his lips together, Darcy shifted in his chair. Despite his improved play, her move left him in a losing position. Refusing to give in, he fought on, finding the best defensive moves available, making her work for every inch.
By move thirty-five, she offered, “There is no shame in recognizing inevitability. You could resign.”
“Could I?” He laughed, mocking himself. “I would hate to miss how you finish the game.”
She paused her assault, apparently surprised by his admission. “You are…gracious in defeat.”
“I am learning to be, thanks to an excellent teacher.”
The contempt in her eyes changed, though to what Darcy could not name. Respect, perhaps. Or the beginning of curiosity.
One move later,his king had nowhere to run. Sitting back, her hands fell to her side. Despite the chill, her brow and upper lip were moist, evidence of the tension.
“Checkmate,” she said quietly as some of her fury had burned away.
Mr. Darcy held his king in his palm before laying the piece horizontally on the board in front of her queen. “Well proved, Miss Bennet.”
Tipping her head to him to acknowledge him, she was surprised when he rose from the chair, moving away from the table. “In these two games, you have shown me what sort of man I am. You have every right to your anger against an arrogant man who was blind to his own failures.” He took a breath, the words difficult but genuine. “I deeply regret my words, my attitude, and any pain I caused you. I was catastrophically wrongin my flippant judgment of you. But not merely you, about what gives a person worth, what deserves respect.”
He met her eyes directly. “Your mind, your courage, your skill set you apart. I have never met your equal. I dismissed you as beneath my notice when the truth is…the truth is that you surpass me in every way that truly matters. I spoke carelessly, cruelly, and you were within your rights to exact punishment. I only hope that someday, somehow, you might…”
He trailed off, unable to finish.
Elizabeth’s voice was unsteady. “Might what, Mr. Darcy?”
“Might think of me without complete contempt.”
