“My amber set hails from Königsberg. Baltic amber is rare and forms the color of warmed honey and cognac. If you hold a candle near, the figures glow.”
Katia dashes to the sconce and lights the small candle she’s taken from the table with tools. I listen to the patter of her feet and watch the tiptoeing like she’s about to dance. She returns, gets close to the glass. “It’s so lovely.”
Heart racing, I stand beside her and open the door and allow her touches to my pieces. “No one but me has held these tiny works of art in years.”
“Jahleel, tell me of this ivory-and-lapis one.”
“That was my father’s favorite. My mother gifted it to him. It’s a Mughal jeweled set. The craftsmen decorated each piece, some with rubies and even turquoise.”
“Is that a throne, Jasha?”
Why use such an endearment in a room of truth? “Da.” I pick up the throne for the king piece, which is carved with peacock feathers, and hold it for her inspection. “It’s made to resemble what the Mughal emperor sat upon and ruled one of the most powerful nations.”
She fingers it lightly, respectfully, but never takes possession. “Mother of pearl on the board?”
Reminded of how gentle she can be, I nod, wishing she’d been that careful with my heart. I force myself to breathe, and her jasmine fragrance triggers more memories. I need to get out of this small room that puts us too close together.
But then I must stop worshipping her lips, the nape of a neck that needs kissing, the movement of the feet—large and sleek, ready to waltz over my heart. “Mother of pearl,” I finally say. “Da … and the board is formed of fragrant sandalwood.”
I set the throne back into its proper place and take her to my favorite. “This ebony-and-silver set is over a hundred years old. Peter the Great played chess with my grandfather Gannibal on this set.”
She marvels at the rook, blooming like an onion-domed tower. The knights are forged as figures of the Cossack cavalry. “It’s stunning, Jahleel. Why hide these?”
“Not everyone understands. They mean something to me beyond the value. Each holds memories of my family’s legacy and of playing chess with my father. The two of us would battle as Anya and my mother watched. He was so proud when I outmaneuvered him and won.”
Her hand smooths my back. I feel her through my tailcoat. “May I hold the tower? Or should I say castle?”
“The rook piece? Most women don’t know that name or what it is.”
“I’m not most women. Chess was my father’s favorite, too. He gave the same love to me.”
Moving to the pulls of this cabinet, I feel my balance tiring and lean on the cane. “You open the glass. Take out the treasure.”
With extreme care, she opens the door. My breath deepens when she lifts the sculpted ebony piece.
Her eyes shine. “My father would always teach me the game. He’d force an open column. I mean file. He’d use that clear lane to wreak havoc.”
“You miss your father, Katherine? Of course you do. That’s a silly question.”
“That’s not silly. And I do, every day.”
“Cesar Wilcox would be fine with you giving Wilcox Coal to your enemies?”
She shrugs. “The Palmerses weren’t always enemies. They were friends of my father, of our whole family. They were the chaperones who accompanied me to St. Petersburg. I couldn’t have gone without them.”
I look at her, knowing she’s surely given me the clue Tavis taunted in my dreams. “Command me to fix the problem.”
“But I’ve … Haven’t I used your kindness enough? The matriarchs of Cheapside say you are always consumed with Wilcox problems.”
“I’m consumed with you, Katherine—sunset, midnight, dawn. Use me, Katia.” I take her into my arms. “Use me up. Let me make the pain go away. I can fix this, but I won’t impose my will.”
She nods and holds onto me. “Yes. Do a grand gesture, Darcy. I’m failing miserably, at everything.”
I flick tears away and kiss her soundly. Oh, she tastes good even with the bitter tea on our tongues. “Your father told me family is the most important thing. You kept every one of the Wilcoxes safe and together. That’s hard to do, especially for a woman alone in a world lorded over by men. But you’ve done it by yourself. I know Tavis was no protection.”
“He was my friend, but he struggled with his father. That’s my fault, too.”
No. Tavis caused his own problems. “You made difficult choices, but you kept fighting. I admire you.”
