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He sat opposite her, suddenly aware of how different the room felt with only the two of them in it. The hush pressed close, broken only by the fire's pop and the clock's faint tick. On Saturday, he had listened for her voice amid a gathering of friends. It had been bright and brittle with laughter. Tonight, he heard the quiet rustle of her skirts as she settled. The small sound of her glass meeting the table and her slow breath... Every sound seemed meant only for him.

She had come knowing they would be alone. The thought made him want to reach across the board and take her hand. He curled his fingers against his knee to keep them still. Instead, he picked up the dice, their ivory faces smooth and warm from his palm, and held them out. “Shall we begin?”

“Without agreeing upon the terms?” she said, tilting her head.

“You were to provide them,” he told her.

“So I was.” She considered him over the rim of her glass, her gaze steady and bright. He had seen that look before, usually just before he discovered he had agreed to something foolish. Like climbing an orchard wall or sneaking a bottle from her father’s cellar. He welcomed its return, and a glad, reckless warmth rose in him.

“The winner may ask something of the loser,” she said.

“Such as a question?” he asked.

“Perhaps.” She turned her glass slowly by its stem. A small smile played about her mouth.

He had many questions he wanted to ask her. But it was more than that. He wanted to learn everything about her and discover who she had become. “That allows us considerable freedom.”

“You need not accept,” she said.

“I have no objection to a few questions,” he told her

“We shall see,” she said, and her voice dropped, low and teasing.

They rolled for the opening move, the dice clattering across the polished board. Alexander watched her lean forward to read the result. She pressed her lips together to hide her satisfaction. Charlotte won. “Naturally,” she murmured.

He grinned. “I had forgotten how gracious you are in victory.”

“Then it is fortunate I came to remind you,” she said, and plucked up the dice with a flourish.

The first few turns passed easily, the soft click of checkers and the murmur of conversation filling the silence. Alexander had played often enough over the years to consider himself competent. Though he soon discovered that his memory of Charlotte across the board was very different from having her there. Warm and bright and real… Her hands moved with quick confidence over the points.

She rested one elbow lightly on the arm of her chair, chin propped on her knuckles as she considered a move. When pleased, she pressed her lips together as though concealing her satisfaction would make it less obvious. It did not. “You are staring,” she said, without looking up.

“I am trying to decide what your strategy is,” he said, as gravely as he could manage. “Mine is clear upon the board.”

“I suppose in that we are doing the same thing,” she said. “I was hoping for some indication of your intentions.” She lifted her eyes, and the full force of her gaze struck him, green and glinting and entirely unguarded. “You will have to pay closer attention.”

He laughed, a low, helpless sound. She moved her piece with a small, triumphant click. Her smile curved as though she had won something far greater than a point. For a while, they spoke of ordinary things. It was pleasant. He would like to keep talking. He had spent years imagining grander pleasures. These small ones caught him unexpectedly.

Charlotte reached for a sugared almond. “Your turn.”

Alexander looked down. She had left him a tempting opening. Too tempting. He studied the board again, then met her eyes. “You are trying to lure me.”

“Is it working?” she asked, coyly.

He wanted to give in, but then the game would end. “Very nearly.”

“How disappointing.” She sighed.

He chose a safer move. Charlotte sighed again and rolled the dice. He won the first game by a narrow margin. For several seconds, she stared at the board. Alexander waited. At last, she lifted her gaze.

”Fine,” she said. “You may look pleased.”

“May I?” He arched a brow. “How generous of you.”

“Well, I am known for my generosity.” She winked. “You are allowed to celebrate your victory, but only briefly.” He allowed himself a smile. “That is quite sufficient,” she said.

“Then I shall collect my forfeit before you reconsider.”