He took his cock and pressed it against her entrance. “Are you sure this is where you want it?”
“George!”
He grinned and leaned down to kiss her. And then he gave her the result she wanted.
The next day, Phoebe noticed White had made a move on the chessboard in the morning room.
You sly thing, George. You think you’ll get an extra game this way.
But still she made a move in response as Black. Then she sat down at the secretary to write a letter back to Alice, telling her she was welcome to cut her trip short and return to England and to the Danforth estate, but Phoebe was deliriously happy and had no intention of coming to Venice.
A whole week passed before White made another move even though Phoebe checked the morning room chessboard every day. She moved another Black pawn.
Five days, a week, sometimes ten days would pass between White’s moves. She knew her husband was deliberate and careful, but this was the slowest game she had ever played with him.
She was very near her confinement when she finally won the game on a dark, cold, damp March morning. The White king had no escape, no matter what move George might make. Phoebe felt a little daring and a little impatient, so she tipped George’s king over for him.
She sat at the secretary, her large belly in front of her, and read her letters. Alice and her aunt Lady Simmons were in Austria now but Alice wrote she would be home in June to see the newest Danforth who should be born at the beginning of April.
I’ll grant you some nesting time. And besides, this way, the baby will be much more handsome by the time I meet him. I don’t know if I like babies, but you know I’m a fool for handsome.
Clearly, Alice thought the baby would be a boy.
Phoebe wrote a reply that warned Alice she would have to love a niece as much as a nephew. Then she went out into the hall and asked Mead for a carriage to take her to her mother’s house for a long visit. She and her mother had luncheon and sat together and read their novels and talked about her sisters and her brothers. Andrew came in briefly and kissed her and then disappeared to go to the music room.
“You must help me, Phoebe,” her mother said. “In a few years, we have to find a good match for your brother.”
Phoebe laughed. “I’m not sure I know anything about good matches. Wasn’t I born into mine?”
It was dusk when she got back home. The lamps in the drawing room were already lit and shining, the room ready for her and George to sit there and talk before they went into dinner.
George came out in the wet to meet the carriage, helping her down himself, elbowing the footman out of the way.
“You won,” he said. She looked at him without understanding. “The game in the morning room. You won.”
“Yes. Let’s get inside, it’s cold.” She leaned on him going up the few steps to the front door. “I actually think I won a move earlier, but I didn’t realize it. You didn’t either, obviously.”
He gripped her arm tightly. “It’s wonderful, Phee. Congratulations!”
“You act as if I’ve never beaten you before. And you made me work for it this time, you know.” They stepped into the hall and Mead helped her off with her coat.
“Yes, but you didn’t beat me.”
“Yes, I did.” She smiled and handed a glove to Mead. She didn’t know where the other one was.
“No, no, no, you won. But you weren’t playing me. I mean, I moved the pieces, but someone else was your opponent.”
She stared at her husband who was grinning like the baby had already come.
“Phee, you’ve been playing correspondence chess. With Valois.”
“Valois?”
“Yes. And he was White. A decided advantage. And you trounced him.” He seized her hand. “Come with me.” He went down the hall at a fast clip, pulling her behind him.
“Wait, George.”
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry.”
