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"How generous," Elizabeth said. "I hope your officers are equally fortunate when you arrange their battles."

"My officers know better than to question me before breakfast."

"Then it is fortunate we have already dined."

For several turns Richard explained what he intended to do. Elizabeth made no objection, moving a knight and then a bishop while he confidently developed what he called a superior position. Lady Matlock paused at the door and watched them with an expression of experienced sympathy.

"Richard, are you certain you ought to describe all your plans to your opponent?" she asked.

"Mother, Miss Elizabeth is learning," he said.

"One of us certainly is," Elizabeth replied, studying the board.

Three moves later his king was trapped. Richard bent closer, examined the pieces, and accused the chessboard of having changed its allegiances. Elizabeth denied touching anything except her own army.

"I shall demand another game," Richard announced.

"You may have one tomorrow," Elizabeth said. "Tonight you must recover from the disappointment of my inferior education."

The Earl, hearing the end of the exchange, laughed until Lady Matlock begged him to spare his injured leg the exertion. Richard surrendered his chair with an exaggerated bow, but later, when Elizabeth hesitated at the top of the stairs in so unfamiliar a house, he pointed out the correct passage without making a jest of her uncertainty. She began to understand that there was kindness beneath his mischievousness.

Lord Saye arrived two evenings later, with a case of estate papers beneath his arm and the air of a man who had spent his day persuading other people to be reasonable. Elizabeth first heard his arrival from the library, where Richard had insisted upon a second game of chess and was discovering that a second defeat was no easier to bear than the first.

"There must be a defect in the pieces," Richard declared, eyeing the board. "I cannot otherwise account for this."

"Perhaps the defect lies in the fellow moving them," Elizabeth suggested. She returned a captured bishop to its box. "I understand that is a possibility most experienced players are obliged to consider."

"An excellent theory," said a voice from the doorway. "I have offered it to Richard since he was ten."

The gentleman who entered resembled his brother sufficiently for Elizabeth to recognize him, but there the resemblance ended. Lord Saye was somewhat taller, his expression steadier and his manner quieter. He looked from the defeated king to Richard's injured dignity and appeared to comprehend the entire affair without requiring an account of it.

"You are Lord Saye," Elizabeth said, rising. "Your mother said you were expected, but I had not realized your arrival would bring witnesses to my victory."

"Then you have met my brother upon terms most favourable to yourself," Saye answered. "I am sorry to have missed the contest. He generally supplies a defence worthy of a very lengthy trial."

"I can defend myself perfectly well," Richard protested.

"Then begin by conceding that Miss Bennet has won," Saye said. He set his papers down and offered Elizabeth a courteous bow. "My father has written of you so frequently that I feel guilty for arriving as a stranger. I hope you will forgive the delay. One of my tenants has discovered a new method of disputing an old boundary, and I was obliged to learn it in considerable detail."

"That sounds almost as interesting as Richard's explanation of why the chessboard has betrayed him," Elizabeth said.

"Do not encourage her," Richard told his brother. "I had hoped for assistance from my own family."

"You have it," Saye replied. "I have rescued you from the necessity of explaining a third defeat this evening."

Richard rose in mock indignation, and Elizabeth laughed. Saye's own smile was modest, but she noticed that his eyes warmed when he looked at his younger brother. It was plain that the two had argued in this fashion for years and that neither would have wished to surrender the privilege.

At dinner Saye spoke little of his business until Lady Matlock asked after the tenants. He answered carefully, distinguishing between a troublesome account and a family whose difficulties arose from illness rather than neglect. Elizabeth listened with interest. She was accustomed to gentlemen who regarded the affairs of an estate as matters too dull for young ladies, but Saye neither changed the subject nor assumed she could not follow it.

"If a family cannot pay the rent because the father has been ill, do you ask them to leave?" she asked when he described one holding.

"Not before discovering whether time and assistance will improve matters," Saye answered. "An estate is meant to outlast its present occupants, Miss Elizabeth, but I hope the people upon it may do so as well."

"Saye has an inconvenient habit of knowing every person who lives upon his land," Richard said. "It deprives him of any excuse to behave like an indifferent lord."

"You may be reassured," Saye answered. "I reserve my indifference for your complaints about chess."

After dinner, while the others considered music, Elizabeth found herself beside Saye at a window overlooking the western lawn. She thanked him for answering her questions. He seemed faintly surprised to be thanked for so ordinary a courtesy.