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“By ‘chess,’ you’d better mean the board game and nothing else,” she warned.
“We’re surrounded by Lady Brumley’s guests. I can scarcely ravish you over the table.” He bent to whisper, “Though I’ll admit the thought did occur to me.”
When she blushed and jerked her gaze away, he chuckled. This was what he’d missed most about Juliet—how she turned from determined goddess into fetching innocent with little provocation. She was the only woman he actually enjoyed talking to.
The virginal sorts annoyed him with their vacuous discussions of the weather, the latest gossip, and the last ball they’d attended. The widows were no more tolerable, either. When they weren’t assessing his suitability for marriage, they were offering to “entertain” him. Come to think of it, the married women did their share of the latter. Where the devil were their husbands? Didn’t the men know how to keep their women content?
No, he supposed not, judging from the number of married men spending these evening affairs drinking with their male friends.
That would never be him. He wouldn’t make the mistake his father made—neglecting his wife until she looked elsewhere for comfort. He smiled to himself. As if he’d ever prefer any other entertainment to spending time with Juliet.
He led her to the seat at the table before the white pieces. “I’ll give you the advantage of being first,” he said as he went back round to sit in the other chair.
“As a gentleman should,” she said haughtily.
From across the table, he watched her assess the board, her pretty brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re looking very lovely tonight,” he ventured.
She moved her pawn out to begin the game. “How adorable of you to say so,” she responded in a sugary voice. “And so original, too. Lord Ferguson and Mr. Rowland said exactly the same thing when I entered this evening. Lord Havering has remarked on it often this week. I do believe I have looked ‘very lovely’ to every gentleman I’ve met for the past five nights.”
If she thought to provoke him, it wouldn’t work. “Can we help it if your astonishing beauty dulls our wits?” He blocked her pawn with his.
“That doesn’t bode well for our chess game. A dull-witted man can hardly win. I wonder why you even bothered to play.”
“To sharpen my dull wits, so I can proffer more ‘original’ compliments next time.”
“Don’t trouble yourself.” She examined the board, then moved her knight out. “Any compliment you give would be insincere, since—as a certain devious man once told me—it only means you’re ‘aiming to win’ and has naught to do with me.”
He chuckled. “You’re bent on annoying me, aren’t you? But nothing you say can annoy me tonight. I plan to enjoy myself. How can I not, with such fetching company?”
Tipping up her chin, she stared hard at him. “I don’t suppose you’ve received any more news of your brother.”
His smile faded. He’d been wrong—there was something she could say to annoy him. “No, I haven’t.”
“I heard that it isn’t at all certain Lord Blackmore will find the pirates. Men have tried before, you know, and failed.”
“I have faith in Blackmore,” he ground out. “Now can we discuss something else?”
“Why?”
He moved out his knight. “Because you only speak of it to keep your resentment of me alive.”
She arched an eyebrow. “My resentment of you is thriving very well on its own.”
Reaching over, he caught her hand. “Then give me a chance to banish it.” He lifted her gloved hand and pressed a kiss into the palm.
She snatched her hand back. “That is not the way to go about it. Besides, you’re only distracting me so you can win the game.”
“True. But chess isn’t the game I’m trying to win. And the only reason you won’t let me touch you is you know how strongly it affects you.”
“Not at all, I assure you.” She held out her hand with a haughty frown. “Go on, kiss it all you like. I’m immune to your ridiculous maneuvers, sir.”
“Are you indeed?” He ignored her hand to attack on another front. Since the low wall of the alcove completely shielded everything below the table from the other players, he used that to his advantage. Removing his shoe, he ran his stocking foot up her calf.
Sucking in a sharp breath, she jerked up straight. Then she leaned over the table to whisper, “Stop that right now, Sebastian!”
“Or what? You’ll capture my king?” With a smile, he caressed her calf.
She kicked at him, then winced.
