A Game of Chess With the Marquess

by Patricia Haverton

  It was as Samuel had said. He just needed time to let the feelings grow.

  And while he waited, he would do all he could to keep thoughts of the mysterious servant girl from his mind.

  * * *

  This last, unfortunately, was easier said than done.

  The following day, Adrian asked Henderson the butler to show him to the manor library, hoping to get a better idea of the sort of books Lady Katherine might have been raised on. She was an educated girl, of course, being the daughter of a duke, so he knew she would have read something. If he could manage to discover the right subject, there was a chance he would be able to forge a connection with her.

  The Duke’s library was as massive as everything else in Brackhill Manor, and Adrian knew immediately that he would be spending many happy hours here over the course of the next several days. He made his way to the first bookcase, which seemed to contain a lot of historical accounts of wars. He ran his fingers over the spines, pondering. These were the kinds of books he had enjoyed as a child, before he had been to war himself. Since his return, he had found the idea of reading battlefield accounts a little too daunting. But perhaps it was time to challenge himself again.

  He pulled a book down from the shelf and carried it over to the dark red armchair. He was soon engrossed in the tale of a general and his aide de camp and the way they’d planned their operations together. When he next looked up from the book, to his surprise, the patch of sun coming in through the window had moved several inches across the room. He had lost track of time in here. He could tell by the quality of the light that it wasn’t anywhere near time for supper, but perhaps the others were looking for him. His mother would definitely have had something to say about his hiding in the library and reading all day when he was supposed to be socializing with the Duke and his family. Reluctantly, he set the book down and got to his feet.

  Just then, the door opened, and a maid entered.

  Adrian stood rooted to the spot. It was her.

  There was no mistaking her. Even if she hadn’t been wearing the eyepatch, he would have known her. Those high cheekbones. That piercing green eye. The soft curl of hair escaping from its pin that made him want to reach out and touch it, to see if it was as soft as it looked. He hadn’t exaggerated her beauty in his memory. If anything, he had downplayed it.

  And there was the look of fear. Just as she had before, she froze and stared at him as if he’d caught her in the act of doing something she shouldn’t have been.

  He held up a hand. “Wait,” he said. “Please wait a moment.”

  She didn’t answer him. But she didn’t run away either.

  “You’ve nothing to fear from me,” he said. “Please, come in.”

  She lowered her eyes to the carpet. “I only came in to dust,” she said, her voice soft and hesitant. “I ought to go. I can return when you’ve finished.”

  “No, please. Stay. Dust. You’re not bothering me at all,” he insisted. “I saw you at the ball, didn’t I?” He knew that he had, of course.

  “I’m not sure, My Lord.” But her cheeks had gone red, and Adrian knew she was lying. She remembered their encounter as well as he did. Why was she so reluctant to acknowledge it? What was she so afraid of?

  “You wouldn’t tell me your name then,” he said, trying to make the point that he did in fact remember her. “Will you tell me now?” he added.

  “I shouldn’t,” she said.

  “But why? Is it because you’re a member of the staff? Because, you know, I’ve gotten several of their names. Like Henderson, the butler, and Helen.”

  She blushed even more brilliantly and shook her head.

  “Look,” he said, an idea occurring to him. He crossed the room and stood before her. “I’m Lord Adrian Sullivan, Marquess of Galdhor,” he said. “I’m here to discuss possible terms of marriage to Lady Katherine, your mistress, and I’ll be in the manor for some days. I don’t want you to be frightened of me.”

  “I’m not frightened of you,” she said, looking up, and the expression of surprise on her face was enough to convince him that, strange as it seemed, she was probably telling the truth. She wasn’t afraid of him. But then what was behind her reticence?

  “Tell me your name,” he asked again.

  “Why?”

  “So that I can call on you if I need you,” he said. That wasn’t his reason for wanting to know at all—he wanted a way to think of her other than as the girl with the eyepatch, that was his true motivation. But he couldn’t possibly tell her that he had been thinking about her or that he was planning to do more of it.

  “Very well,” she said. “Lenora. My name is Lenora.”

  Lenora. He had been right, then. Her name was as lovely as she was. It was a song in his head. Lenora, Lenora, Lenora.

  “It’s lovely to meet you,” he said to her. “Lenora.”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sure we’ll see each other again,” he said, tucking the book he’d been reading under his arm to take back to his room. “In fact, I look forward to it.”

  “Yes, sir.” She was averting her eyes again, examining the pattern of the carpet.

  He left the library and made his way back up the wide staircase that led to the room where he was staying. Once there, he sat down on his bed and buried his face in his hands.

  Lenora.

  He had wanted to see her again. He couldn’t deny that’s what he had wanted. He had even been looking for her, going out of his way to position himself in places where servants were likely to appear so that he might have a better chance of coming across her. And now his wish had been granted. He had seen her. He had learned her name.

  So why did he feel worse than ever?

  Because now he had to own up to the fact that his preoccupation was more than just idle curiosity. He’d seen her. He’d gotten answers to the preliminary questions that had hounded him since the ball. And his interest in her—in Lenora—hadn’t waned a bit.

  Lady Katherine, he told himself sternly. You’re here to focus on Lady Katherine. You’re here to explore your affections for her. Not to drive yourself mad over some poor maid.

  But there had been something strange about their encounter in the library, all the same. What had it been? Adrian sat puzzling over it, trying to figure it out. He was just about to abandon the thought when suddenly it came to him—she had told him she was coming into the library to dust.

  But she had no duster with her…

  So what had she really been doing there?

  * * *

  He had intended to stay away from her, to devote the next couple of days to Lady Katherine, but fate had other plans. He found himself crossing paths with Lenora the very next afternoon. This time he was wandering the courtyard, enjoying the fresh air before supper, when he saw her come walking back up toward the house from the direction of the stables.

  He raised a hand. “Lenora!”

  Her head darted up like a startled bird’s and her eyes widened at the sight of him. He beckoned her over. She hesitated, and for a moment he thought she might ignore his summons, but she evidently decided there was no justification for such rudeness and made her way to his side.

  Once she had reached him, however, he found that he didn’t know quite what to say. How did you talk to a servant? He had servants at home, of course, but they were fixtures at Galdhor Manor, men and women he’d grown up with. They were as comfortable to him as old furniture. And he knew how to converse with commoners—he had spent enough time in the company of Samuel and his friends to have mastered that particular art—but that was again different. Commoners weren’t beholden to him in the same way a servant was.

  But he didn’t want to take advantage of the fact that she worked here. She shouldn’t have to speak to him if she didn’t want to.

  He very badly wanted her to want to, though.

  “Isn’t it a lovely day?” he managed at last, feeling stupid.

  She looked at him as though she agreed wi
th his self-assessment. She’s wondering if that’s really why I called her over, Adrian thought. But all she said was, “The weather is very fine, My Lord.”

  “Have you just been down at the stables?”

  She hesitated. “I like to visit the horses,” she admitted.

  It was the first truly personal thing he’d learned about her. “I enjoy horses too,” he said, knowing as he did that this was the sort of conversation he ought to be having with Lady Katherine rather than with one of her maids. “Do you ride?”

  “No.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to?”

  “My Lord…” she hesitated. “I’m only a maid.”

  “Maids can ride horses.”

  She shook her head quickly, as if she were dislodging an insect that had frightened her. “I should go,” she said. “I’m wanted in the kitchen.”

  He nodded. He certainly didn’t want to make trouble for her by keeping her from her work. “It was nice to talk to you again, Lenora.”

  “Good day,” she said, and fled into the house. It seemed she was always running from him. And yet he did believe her when she told him she didn’t fear him. It was all very strange.

  He followed her into the house. Lady Katherine was just descending the stairs. She was dressed for supper in a beautiful gown of pale purple. “Lord Galdhor!” she hurried to his side. “It’s a pleasure to see you.”

  “Good evening, Lady Katherine.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “Father says that we ought to take a turn about the garden before we go to supper. What do you think?”

  “That sounds fine. Will he meet us here?”

  “No, silly.” She gave a high, tinkling laugh. “Just the two of us.”

  Just the two of them! That was a surprise. He hadn’t expected to be granted any alone time with Lady Katherine until the contracts were signed. It wasn’t enough to drive all thoughts of Lenora from his head, but it did come close. “Perhaps we ought to have an escort,” he suggested.

  Lady Katherine looked slightly put out, but she nodded. “Henderson can accompany us,” she said. “Lenora!”

  Adrian got a shock, hearing the name that had so preoccupied him coming out of Lady Katherine’s mouth. A moment later, Lenora emerged from the kitchen, looking wary.

  “Fetch Henderson for us,” Lady Katherine said imperiously.

  Lenora turned and went without speaking.

  “Is she your lady’s maid?” Adrian couldn’t resist trying to get a bit more information.

  Lady Katherine scoffed. “That one! Don’t make me laugh. I wouldn’t have her for a lady’s maid if she was the only maid we had. I wouldn’t even keep her in the house if it were up to me, but my father insists, for some mad reason.” She shook her head. “She’s only a chambermaid.”

  Well, that had told him something, at least. Not just Lenora’s position among the staff, either—something far more interesting. It was clear that Lady Katherine especially disliked Lenora. He couldn’t fathom why that was, but he couldn’t mistake it either.

  For the first time, Adrian felt he could begin to understand why Lenora might seem so frightened every time he saw her.

  Chapter 6

  Lord Adrian Sullivan, Marquess of Galdhor.

  The name played over and over in Lenora’s head, like a strain of music that had taken her fancy. She couldn’t think why she was so stuck on thoughts of him, why nothing else had been able to hold her attention since their conversation in the library.

  She should not have told him her name.

  If Lady Katherine discovered that Lenora had spoken to her husband-to-be, her wrath would be terrible. She might even try to exile me from the manor, Lenora thought. She did trust the Duke and the security of her position here, but she also knew that Lady Katherine had never really fought, fought hard, for her removal before.

  What would the Duke do if his beloved daughter insisted that Lenora leave?

  To lose this position would be catastrophic. Lenora had nowhere else to go. She had no one to take her in. Most of the household staff could have fallen back on family if they had to. Lenora had no one.

  There was Jimmy. He might help her—Lenora knew he cared for her well-being. But Jimmy can’t afford to lose his position either, she thought. He can’t put himself on the line for me. I couldn’t let him do that.

  And knowing all this, knowing how vital it was that she be permitted to stay at Brackhill Manor, she had still allowed herself to be drawn into a conversation with Lord Galdhor. She had still told him her name.

  What on earth had possessed her to do that?

  I must have completely taken leave of my senses. There’s no other explanation. But it was so unlike her. Lenora prided herself on being very level headed. How could she have forgotten herself so completely?

  I’m sure we’ll see each other again, he’d said. In fact, I look forward to it.

  What did that mean? Was he planning to punish her for being so forward?

  No. She hadn’t been forward with him. Her actions had been ill-advised, certainly, but she hadn’t behaved in a manner that was inappropriate toward the Marquess himself. He had asked to know her name. He had clearly wanted to talk to her.

  He must not have known how much his bride to be despised her. If he had known that, he could never have allowed himself to pursue a conversation with her.

  But what a strange thing for him to do.

  Maybe things were different at his manor. Maybe he behaved differently toward his own servants than the family did here. Lenora had to admit that she had very little experience of the world beyond the only home she’d ever known. What if the way people were treated here wasn’t normal?

  She didn’t suspect that the Duchess and Lady Katherine’s treatment of her was the norm. She knew they especially disliked her. But even with the rest of the staff, the women were cold and reserved. They did not initiate conversation unless it was to give an order.

  Lord Galdhor had not given Lenora any orders. He would have been within his rights to do so. She might not have been his maid, but he was a guest in the household where she served, and a nobleman besides. She would be bound to obey any command he gave.

  But he hadn’t. He had spoken to her almost as if she were his equal. He had claimed to want to know her name in case he ever needed to call on her for any sort of service, but he had acted as though he wanted to know her name so that he could talk to her.

  It was enough to make her head spin. Lenora had spent her lifetime learning her place. Her life as the most despised of the household staff at Brackhill Manor was far from easy, but it was familiar. It was safe and comfortable.

  And now here was a man who was breaking all the rules.

  He was so far above her, she ought not to have even been thinking about him. A marquess. And a handsome marquess at that. A handsome marquess who was to marry Lady Katherine.

  Am I carrying a torch for him? That was unthinkable, and yet the way he occupied her thoughts went beyond the ordinary. And he was an incredibly attractive man, with those amber-colored eyes like honey and that tall, strong, build…

  What am I thinking?

  In all her three-and-twenty years, Lenora had never received romantic attention from any man. She had never thought of love and romance as something that lay in her future. Those pursuits were for women like Lady Katherine. Beautiful ladies. Noble ladies. Lenora’s life would be one of hard work, not of fine things like love. She had accepted that a long time ago.

  And yet, just a couple of conversations with Lord Galdhor had been enough to stir her. To make her imagine what his embrace might feel like. To make her revisit the sweet sound of his voice over and over as she went about her daily chores.

  And what might his lips feel like, pressed against mine? What would it be like to taste him?

  She felt herself blush at the very idea. How can I be thinking such things?

  It was probably just his overwhelming good looks, she decided. He really was the most
handsome man she had ever met. That, combined with the fact that he had been so kind to her, was more than enough to account for the space he now occupied in her mind. Of course she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him.

  Today, thankfully, the Duchess had given Lenora a pile of garments that required mending. The work meant that she would be able to stay out of the way and that she wouldn’t need to worry about crossing Lord Galdhor’s path and being drawn into another uncomfortable conversation with him. Even if Lord Galdhor himself had no intention of punishing Lenora for her behavior, she knew with a certainty that the Duchess and Lady Katherine would be furious if they knew Lenora had been talking to their guest.