game of piquet, but she excelled at chess. And then reality reasserted itself. Was this another of Peregrine’s traps? Every time she accidentally revealed her true self, he was there. And every time it happened, she lost a little of the desperate resolve that enabled her to maintain the charade. She could not afford to weaken herself any further.
“I find myself a little tired, sir. If you’d excuse me.” She made to move past him, but he laid a hand lightly on her arm.
“Afraid, Mistress Hathaway?” The penetrating blue eyes were quizzical, but there was a hard determination behind them, and the accompanying smile only increased her dismay. “I may not be your match at whist, but I’ll lay any odds you name that I can take your king.”
Anger at his persistence swept through her. To hell with it, she thought abruptly. If he thought he could break her guard, he was in for a surprise. She dipped her head, blinking rapidly. “I do beg you to believe, sir, that I will give you but a sad game.”
Will you, indeed? he thought with an appreciative smile. Unless he was much mistaken, Mistress Hathaway was incapable of playing a bad game of anything competitive. “Then, if necessary, ma’am, I will weep. But I insist upon a game.”
On your own head be it. Alex inclined her head in demure acknowledgment. “Very well, sir. If you insist.”She moved aside to a small table in the window, where a chess board was set up. “Will you choose?” She took a white piece and a black piece and held them behind her back.
“Your right hand,” he said.
Alexandra uncurled her right hand. “You have the first move, sir.” She put the white pawn on the table and took her seat behind the black pieces.
Peregrine opened with the standard pawn to king four, and she responded with the customary countermove. Perry brought out his queen’s knight, and for a few moves, they played according to the book, but then Alexandra moved her bishop, exposing her king. Perry blinked. What trick did she have up her sleeve? He examined the board carefully but could see no possible move she could make to recover from the bishop move. He brought his queen into play, threatening her king. “Check.”
Alexandra frowned and cast him a look of distress. “Oh, dear, I didn’t see that. Now what should I do?” She gazed at the board, her hand hovering tentatively over her king’s rook.
“You may not castle to move your king out of check,” he reminded her drily.
“Oh, no, of course not, I forgot.” Her hovering hand dropped into her lap, and her frown deepened as she gazed at the pieces. Then she moved her king one space to the left, out of the queen’s line of fire but by no means out of danger.
Peregrine closed his eyes briefly. What the hell is she playing at? Apart from playing him for a fool? He was always slow to anger, but he felt the first flicker of irritation burn brighter. He looked across the board at her, his blue eyes sharp as daggers. “That’s not going to do you much good.”
“Oh, dear.” She covered her mouth in distress, her hand lifting to the king, then dropping once more. “Oh, but I can’t change my move.”
“No,” he agreed. “You can’t.” He moved his bishop. “Check.”
She cupped her mouth with both hands, looking wide-eyed at him across the board. “I think it’s mate next move, whatever I do.”
“So it would appear,” he said, his voice cold, his eyes glacial. “You’d have impressed me more if you’d lost with a little more subtlety, ma’am.”
Alex toppled her king and murmured, “Why would I wish to impress you, sir? I warned you I play a poor game of chess.”
“You did . . . but you may not know, Mistress Alexandra Hathaway, that you have also thrown down the glove. And I can never resist a challenge.” He pushed back his chair and rose from the board. “One day, we will play chess.” He walked away.
Alex put the pieces back into the box, unable to dismiss the feeling
“I find myself a little tired, sir. If you’d excuse me.” She made to move past him, but he laid a hand lightly on her arm.
“Afraid, Mistress Hathaway?” The penetrating blue eyes were quizzical, but there was a hard determination behind them, and the accompanying smile only increased her dismay. “I may not be your match at whist, but I’ll lay any odds you name that I can take your king.”
Anger at his persistence swept through her. To hell with it, she thought abruptly. If he thought he could break her guard, he was in for a surprise. She dipped her head, blinking rapidly. “I do beg you to believe, sir, that I will give you but a sad game.”
Will you, indeed? he thought with an appreciative smile. Unless he was much mistaken, Mistress Hathaway was incapable of playing a bad game of anything competitive. “Then, if necessary, ma’am, I will weep. But I insist upon a game.”
On your own head be it. Alex inclined her head in demure acknowledgment. “Very well, sir. If you insist.”She moved aside to a small table in the window, where a chess board was set up. “Will you choose?” She took a white piece and a black piece and held them behind her back.
“Your right hand,” he said.
Alexandra uncurled her right hand. “You have the first move, sir.” She put the white pawn on the table and took her seat behind the black pieces.
Peregrine opened with the standard pawn to king four, and she responded with the customary countermove. Perry brought out his queen’s knight, and for a few moves, they played according to the book, but then Alexandra moved her bishop, exposing her king. Perry blinked. What trick did she have up her sleeve? He examined the board carefully but could see no possible move she could make to recover from the bishop move. He brought his queen into play, threatening her king. “Check.”
Alexandra frowned and cast him a look of distress. “Oh, dear, I didn’t see that. Now what should I do?” She gazed at the board, her hand hovering tentatively over her king’s rook.
“You may not castle to move your king out of check,” he reminded her drily.
“Oh, no, of course not, I forgot.” Her hovering hand dropped into her lap, and her frown deepened as she gazed at the pieces. Then she moved her king one space to the left, out of the queen’s line of fire but by no means out of danger.
Peregrine closed his eyes briefly. What the hell is she playing at? Apart from playing him for a fool? He was always slow to anger, but he felt the first flicker of irritation burn brighter. He looked across the board at her, his blue eyes sharp as daggers. “That’s not going to do you much good.”
“Oh, dear.” She covered her mouth in distress, her hand lifting to the king, then dropping once more. “Oh, but I can’t change my move.”
“No,” he agreed. “You can’t.” He moved his bishop. “Check.”
She cupped her mouth with both hands, looking wide-eyed at him across the board. “I think it’s mate next move, whatever I do.”
“So it would appear,” he said, his voice cold, his eyes glacial. “You’d have impressed me more if you’d lost with a little more subtlety, ma’am.”
Alex toppled her king and murmured, “Why would I wish to impress you, sir? I warned you I play a poor game of chess.”
“You did . . . but you may not know, Mistress Alexandra Hathaway, that you have also thrown down the glove. And I can never resist a challenge.” He pushed back his chair and rose from the board. “One day, we will play chess.” He walked away.
Alex put the pieces back into the box, unable to dismiss the feeling
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