“You’re making no sense tonight.” And his nonsense made her uncomfortable, squirmy.
It was a relief when he began to collect wooden chess pieces from the drawer. She organized them as he set them on the table until all were neatly arranged.
“I’m still no good,” she mumbled.
“Neither am I. That’s the fun of it.” He rubbed his hands together.
He always let her go first, and he did now.
She slid a pawn forward.
He did the same. “Do you think he’s scared to be on the front lines?” He nodded at his pawn.
“Oh no, he has always yearned for glory.” She moved another pawn. “But this one.Heis terrified. Please do have mercy on him. Twelve children at home.”
So easy to fall into old, playful ways with this man. See! He was not so changed! Her spirits rose. She clung to the image of her old friend like a capsized sailor in the ocean, clinging to a shattered wood board.
“Twelve!” he exclaimed. “That is more than my mother. I do pity him. I have mercy, but, you see, this fellow”—he picked up his knight and tapped her nose with it—“does not. He’s a bringer of death.” He placed the knight on the board.
“Is he?” She picked up her bishop. “If that is true, the church should be warned. But I think he is simply a horse boy.” She scraped the bishop diagonally across the board.
“A horse boy?” Remmy moved the knight again, putting her bishop at peril.
“A young man who adores horses. Quite mad about them.”
“He sounds too innocent to go to war.”
“I quite agree.” She took his knight with a pawn and a neigh. “Let us remove him from peril.”
He laughed, throwing his head back and revealing the strong column of his throat. A bead of sweat inched down the side of it, and she wondered… She wondered what it tasted like. His lips had tasted of wine and brandy—spicy and delicious.
Heavens, and not a drop of wine had passed her lips tonight, either.
She cleared her throat and whispered, eyes still on that bead of sweat, “Your turn.”
He moved. She moved. He moved again, and they lost the thread of their story in thoughtless plays across the board. He didn’t even seem to be paying attention to the game. Wasn’t even looking at the board. Onlyat her.
He moved his king closer to her queen.
“I can take you there,” she warned.
“You can take me anywhere, sweetheart,” he mumbled.
She pressed a hand to her cheek—burning skin. She moved her queen, snapped up his king. “I think that’s called checkmate. I win!”
He looked pleased. “I think I win.”
“You did not. I know that much about chess at least.”
“I win your forgiveness.”
Oh. “You presumptuous arse. Leave now.”
He brayed like a donkey, and heavens, she couldn’t help but laugh.
The laughter blew away the dreary storm that had lingered between them.
He reached a hand across the table, palm up, beckoning. “What I said about your parents was wrong, Tessa, but I am just trying to protect you. It’s an old habit I cannot break.”
