“Yer move,” he said pleasantly.
She moved a pawn forward. He countered immediately, barely glancing at the board. Within ten moves, it was clear she was outmatched. He played like a general commanding troops, every piece precisely positioned, every move calculated three steps ahead.
“Checkmate,” he announced fifteen minutes later.
Iris stared at the board in dismay. Her king was trapped, surrounded by his pieces with no escape, and she’d barely managed to capture two of his pawns.
“That was pathetic,” she muttered.
“Aye, it was.” But there was no mockery in his voice, just amusement. “Lack of strategy on ye part aside, did ye really think ye would be able to beat me?”
“I hoped.” She slumped back in her chair. “I just wanted ye to spend time with him. He misses havin’ a faither.”
“He has a faither.”
“Does he? To me, it just looks like he has a laird who occasionally acknowledges his existence.”
Elijah could feel his expression hardening. “We had this discussion already.”
“Aye, and ye made yer position clear.” She stood up, brushing off her skirts. “So, what do ye want me to do? Clean the stables? Scrub floors? Whatever it is, let’s get it over with.”
Elijah leaned back in his chair, something unreadable crossing his expression.
“Get ready to go to the river.”
Iris blinked. “What?”
“Ye heard me. Get ready to go to the river.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what I’m askin’ ye to do.” He stood also, moving around the desk until only inches separated them. From this close, he could see the way her pulse quickened, smell the lavender on her hair. “Or did ye forget the terms of our game so quickly?”
“But why the river? What are we goin’ to do there?”
“I daenae have to tell ye that. The rules were simple—ye do what I ask, nay questions.”
He could see she wanted to argue. Her mouth opened and closed then opened again before it finally closed.
“Fine. How long do I have?”
“Meet me at the barn in half an hour.”
He couldn’t help smiling as he watched her stumble out of the solar.
Stubborn lass.
“Ye’re bein’ ridiculous, Iris,” she muttered to herself as she descended the stairs wearing her simplest dress and sturdiest boots. She’d braided her hair back and held a light cloak in one hand.
Her mind was still churning from their confrontation in the solar. The way he’d dismissed her concerns about Codie and the cold authority in his voice when he’d called her incompetent still burned in her chest like swallowed coals.
“And then that wretched chess game.”
She’d been so certain she could best him, so sure that winning would give her the leverage to help that poor boy. Instead, she’d made a fool of herself, stumbling through moves like a child playing at strategy while he demolished her defenses with casual precision.
“Checkmate,” she said bitterly under her breath, mimicking his satisfied tone. “Of course, it was bloody checkmate.”
Now, here she was, bound by her own rash promise to do whatever he asked. The humiliation of it made her cheeks burn anew, but underneath the embarrassment was something else—a treacherous flutter of anticipation. When he’d said they were going to the river, something in his voice had made her pulse quicken despite her anger.
