A Game of Chess With the Marquess

by Patricia Haverton

  “Adrian,” said Lady Galdhor. “You must realize that your reticence to wed is doing you more harm than good.”

  “I’m not unwilling to wed, Mother.” They had had this conversation a dozen times over the past week. Every morning, it seemed, Lady Galdhor asked Adrian whether he had reconsidered declaring his intentions to Lady Katherine. And every time, Adrian told her no.

  “I’m happy to keep trying to find a suitable wife,” he said now. “But surely you wouldn’t have me simply marry the first young lady who comes along!”

  “Lady Katherine is far more than that,” his mother said. “She is the most sought-after young lady in the realm. Why, everyone wants to marry her!”

  “I don’t.”

  “Adrian, do use some common sense. Think of her father’s lands! He hasn’t got a son to inherit. If we were to add that property to our estate—”

  “Mother, please. I know you don’t want me to marry someone simply for property.”

  “You said yourself she was lovely.”

  “And so she is. But there are dozens of lovely young women. I can find someone who is both lovely and intellectually stimulating.”

  His mother shook her head. “If you want your intellect stimulated, read a book.”

  “I do read books. I want a wife who does the same.”

  “She won’t wait for you forever, Adrian. A girl like that? She’s too beautiful to be kept waiting. Too desirable. She’s probably already heard from a dozen other suitors. From what you described, it sounds as if she was enamored with you. If you move quickly, it may yet be possible to secure her attentions. But every day that goes by is an opportunity lost.”

  “Will you have some more tea, Mother?” Sometimes the best thing to do was simply to change the subject.

  Lady Galdhor sighed. “I can see that you don’t want to hear me,” she said. “And that you refuse to heed me. Very well. Ignore your long-suffering mother.”

  “For goodness sake—”

  “I’ve only lost my husband, after all. I’m alone in the world but for you, my only son. And all I want is to see you happy and settled, and to see our family’s legacy continue, before I die. It’s not so much to ask, is it?”

  “No, Mother.”

  “Call on the girl,” Lady Galdhor insisted. “At least visit her at her home and thank her for her hospitality. Remind her of the time you spent together. You never know. Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “And then won’t you be glad you kept the door open?”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  Arguing with her was next to impossible, and capitulation was easier. Still, Adrian had no intention of paying a visit to Lady Katherine. One night had been more than enough to convince him that she was not the wife he sought.

  But the following day, everything changed when a messenger delivered a letter to the manor.

  Adrian accepted the message and stood in the foyer to read it. It had come from Lady Katherine’s father, the Duke of Brackhill.

  Dear Lord Galdhor—

  Please accept our invitation to Brackhill Manor to better acquaint yourself with our daughter, Lady Katherine, and to negotiate the possible terms of a marriage proposal.

  We await your response with great anticipation

  Sincerely,

  Jonathan McLean of Brackhill

  “You’re going,” his mother said as soon as she saw the note. “You’re to write them back at once and tell them you’d love to go.”

  “Enough, Mother! I have no romantic intentions toward Lady Katherine.”

  “This isn’t about romance,” his mother snapped. “You’re nearly thirty years old, Adrian. Romance is for younger men. At your age, it’s time to let go of those ideas and start focusing on the practical. It’s clear the young lady is taken with you. She would never have asked her father to write to you if she wasn’t.”

  “We don’t know that she asked,” Adrian said weakly, although he knew that was a feeble objection. Hadn’t he suspected, even during the ball, that Lady Katherine was interested in him? This letter came as no surprise. “How long do you think they’ll expect me to stay?”

  “A week, perhaps two,” his mother said. “Long enough for you and Lady Katherine to get to know each other a little better. Long enough for her parents to make sure you’re a gentleman of good breeding—which you are, of course, so there are no worries on that score. And long enough to draw up the marriage agreement.”

  Adrian felt backed into a corner. Was there nothing he could say to make his mother understand how he felt?

  She had seen more of the world than he had, he supposed. Perhaps there was something about the situation that he was failing to understand. And he knew she wanted only the best for him. Besides, nothing would be finalized until the contract was signed.

  Maybe Lady Katherine truly hadn’t shown herself to her best effect during the ball. It had been a very busy night, after all, full of heady distractions. And she was very young. It was perhaps only to be expected that she would be excitable during her party. In spending time at her home, he would have an opportunity to see what she was like every day.

  Maybe I wrote her off too quickly, he thought to himself. Maybe she does like to read. Maybe she likes to have deep and interesting conversations about world affairs. And I’ve been thinking of her as a pretty girl with a head full of air. I ought to at least give her a chance.

  And if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that he was eager to return to Brackhill Manor for another reason. The maid with the eyepatch lived there too. He hadn’t managed to get a second look at her on the night of the ball, and he was certainly curious. What was her story? Why did she wear an eyepatch? Why had she run away from the party after bumping into him? And could he really have been correct in his first impression of her? Was it possible that she was as beautiful as she had seemed?

  He would do what his mother asked, he decided. He would return to Brackhill Manor.

  Your Grace, he wrote,

  Please accept my gratitude for your invitation. I am most eager to spend more time with your lovely daughter and to get to know you better as well. I anticipate, with great expectation, my return to Brackhill Manor.

  Cordially,

  Lord Adrian Sullivan of Galdhor

  He sent for the messenger, who arrived in short order to collect the note and deliver it back to Brackhill Manor.

  In the following days, Galdhor Manor became a whirlwind of action. Adrian’s finest clothes were washed and pressed, folded carefully away into trunks to be taken to Brackhill. Concerned for his mother’s well-being, Adrian tried to insist that she accompany him on his journey, but she refused with vehemence. “The last thing you want is for them to believe an old dowager comes with you everywhere you go,” she said. “You’re old enough yourself, without dragging me along.”

  “I’m only seven years older than Lady Katherine.” Adrian was nettled. His mother’s constant harping on his age was most unwelcome, especially when all he was doing was trying to look out for her.

  “Seven is more than enough in the eyes of a young lady,” his mother said. “You want her to think you young and free spirited, not aging and anchored to me. Go and have fun. Be playful. Show her that you know how to enjoy yourself.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I’ll be fine here. This house is full of servants,” she reminded him. “I’ll have more people caring for me than I know what to do with.”

  She was right, he knew, and yet it was hard to leave her. He had been with his mother all his life. The days had long since passed when he had needed her for security and comfort, but now he worried about what she would do without him. What if she were to fall ill? What if she found herself bored with no one to talk to?

  You mustn’t allow yourself to worry about it, he told himself firmly. You are doing what she wants, after all. You’re returning to the Lady Katherine. Perhaps a match will be made, and Mother wi
ll be over the moon.

  But rather than soothe his conscience, this made him feel worse. Because he had to recognize the truth, deep down in his gut—he was not holding out hope for a match with Lady Katherine. It was not impossible, but it was not the whole reason he was returning to Brackhill either.

  He hadn’t told his mother about the girl with the eyepatch. She would be appalled if she knew that Adrian had become so captivated by a servant.

  In the past few days, he had very nearly succeeded in getting the servant girl out of his thoughts. There had been so much else to think about, particularly with his mother pestering him day and night about when and to whom he was going to get married. But now that his return to Brackhill was imminent, thoughts of her returned in full force.

  Had she thought of him at all, he wondered? That was a ridiculous notion. Of course, she hadn’t. She had clearly been distraught in the moment they’d met, and whatever had been bothering her then would have taken up all her thoughts. Besides, she’d no doubt encountered dozens of lords and ladies she hadn’t known the night of the ball. Why should any particular one remain in her thoughts?

  And she was of a different class. Adrian knew enough to know that differentiation between members of other classes was a rare thing. She was unlikely to be able to pick him out of a crowd of partygoers—he would be just another lord to her. He wouldn’t have stood out any more than most servants would stand out to him.

  But what if she did remember him? What if she recognized him when they saw each other again? Would she say something?

  Of course, she won’t. It would be highly inappropriate for her to speak to me. Besides, she couldn’t even manage to tell me her name when she was asked.

  But they would see each other again. Of that, he was certain. There was no way to avoid it. Brackhill Manor was a big place, but it wasn’t that big, and the two of them would both be living there. So then, what would he say when he saw her?

  He would have to be careful. He didn’t want to frighten her, to make her think she had upset him by running into him. He couldn’t let on, either, how striking he found her. There would be no appropriate way for her to respond to such a thing.

  But perhaps he could learn her name.

  She would grow used to his presence in time, he thought, and when she had he would ask her again. And because she would feel more relaxed, more at ease, she would be able to tell him. It was surely something beautiful, he imagined. A beautiful girl would certainly have a beautiful name.

  He just wished he knew what it was about her that made him so determined to see her again, to learn all he could.

  It wasn’t just her beauty. Lots of people were beautiful. Lady Katherine was beautiful. It was something about the way she had looked at him. It was that penetrating gaze of hers, the way she’d seemed to be looking right through him and seeing the truest and most vital parts of him.

  And what had happened to her eye?

  There had to be a story. There had to be something about her, something that set her apart from other servants. Something that accounted for Adrian’s inability to turn his thoughts from her.

  * * *

  The final day before Adrian was due to depart for Brackhill Manor dawned sunny and bright, but Adrian’s head was full of clouds and confusion. He had dreamed of the servant girl, the girl with the eyepatch.

  How could he be so preoccupied? He had never been like this before, not with any woman. It was difficult to fathom.

  In the dream, he had been walking around Brackhill Manor at night and looking up at the stars. He had heard footsteps behind him and had turned, expecting to see Lady Katherine. But instead, it had been the mysterious girl.

  She had joined him on the path and pointed up. “The view is better on the south side of the manor,” she’d said. “But from here you can see the North Star.”

  “You know it?” He’d been impressed. In his experience, few women knew the names of the stars. Of course, he reminded himself now, she hadn’t been a real woman. She had been the dream version of a woman he hadn’t even truly met. The real iteration of this girl was almost certainly nothing like what he was imagining. He hadn’t even spoken to her for long enough to know whether or not he was imagining her voice correctly.

  But in his dream, he had felt deeply satisfied by her presence, as if a long hunger had finally been sated. The feeling of satisfaction had felt deeply significant in the dream. He knew that it probably meant nothing at all, of course. Whatever desire to be around her he might have was a passing thing, driven mostly by curiosity and frustration at not having gotten his questions answered the night of the ball. But the feeling had lingered. Waking up had felt like watching her run away all over again.

  He got out of bed, dressed, and made his way down to the dining room. His mother was already at the table, cutting a hard-boiled egg into several pieces. “You’re up,” she commented.

  “I am.”

  “And are you all packed for tomorrow?”

  “You know I am.” His trunk had been in the foyer since the previous night, ready to be loaded onto the coach for his journey to Brackhill.

  “You haven’t changed your mind about this?”

  “Are you expecting me to?” he asked.

  “I have been going through each day in fear of it,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “You were so difficult to persuade in the first place.”

  “Well, I’m still going.” Even though his interest in Lady Katherine hadn’t increased at all, he knew now that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from accepting the invitation. His curiosity about the servant girl had blossomed, become too big to ignore. He simply had to find out more about her.

  The butler brought in his breakfast—back bacon, sausage, tomato and mushrooms, toast, and beans—and Adrian tried to focus on enjoying his food. This was his last day at home for a while, and he wanted to make the most of it and not get too caught up in worrying about what was to come. “What are you going to do today?” he asked his mother.

  “I might go call on Lady Wherther.” Lady Wherther was the wife of Reginald Fairbanks, Earl of Wherther, and Adrian couldn’t abide her company. She was older than his mother, and she loved nothing more than to gossip about the rumors she’d heard recently. She fed her stories to those who came calling and collected their stories in return. Adrian had no idea what his mother—a sensible woman in many respects—saw in her.

  “Would you like to accompany me?” she asked him.

  “No thank you,” he said. “I have... I have a little packing left to do.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “You just said you’d finished.”

  “I forgot a few items,” he said. “Last minute things, you know…”

  She knew he was lying; he was sure of it. She had always been able to tell. But she let it slide. “Very well,” she said. “I will return by early evening so that we can dine together.”

  “I look forward to it.” He really did. This would be his last meal with his mother for some time, and he had asked the cook to prepare something very fine for the occasion.

  But that left him with the day to himself, and nothing to do.

  He decided to go into town. Although the very idea of it would have appalled his mother, there was a pub he wanted to visit. Although the owner of the pub was a commoner, he was a friend of Adrian’s and had been ever since the two of them had served together in the war. Social rank and station seemed not to count for much when you were in the trenches.

  And besides, Adrian had heard that his old friend was now working as an investigator in addition to managing his pub. And didn’t he have a question that wanted investigating?

  Would he actually be able to find anything out about a servant, though? And dare he even ask? If he put the question out there, it was possible that word would get around. Adrian didn’t think his friend would ever be indiscreet—there was plenty of trust between them, especially after everything they had gone through together. But asking quest
ions meant talking to people, and that meant giving up some degree of privacy.

  But there was nothing to do except to try. The fact was, his curiosity was driving him absolutely mad. And even though he would soon be staying at Brackhill Manor and would be in a position to seek some answers for himself, he knew that he couldn’t possibly ask these questions of Lady Katherine or her family. And he certainly couldn’t ask the maid directly. That really would expose his interest. The offer of a marriage would be withdrawn instantly, breaking his mother’s heart, and all the peerage would know that Adrian Sullivan of Galhdor had his eye on a servant.

  When Adrian arrived, Samuel Peters was behind the bar, serving drinks as always. Adrian had a lot of respect for his friend’s work ethic. He could have hired someone to run the pub for him, but he was passionate about what he did. “What would be the point of that?” he had asked, astonished, when Adrian had once suggested bringing on some help. “I might as well sell the place entirely if I’m not even going to have the pleasure of running it!”