A Game of Chess With the Marquess

by Patricia Haverton

  There would be no point in telling them that the conversations had been innocent, that Lenora had meant no offense by them. To speak to her superiors was strictly forbidden. The fact that the man in question was intended for Lady Katherine would make matters worse by far.

  It was ridiculous to think that Lenora, a half-blind maid, would ever have a chance of taking anything away from Lady Katherine. And yet, the Duchess and Lady Katherine had always seemed very concerned that Lenora might do just that. They would scold her and tell her Lord Galdhor would never look twice at someone like her, Lenora knew. But how could they even think Lenora would believe he might?

  They had no understanding of what it was like to be a member of the serving class. They could only imagine Lenora’s life as a set of circumstances. They could imagine being ordered around, being forced to do chores. But they couldn’t understand what it was to know you were worth less than the people around you.

  Of course, Lord Galdhor would never look at someone like me. I don’t need Her Grace the Duchess or Lady Katherine to tell me that!

  She pulled one of the garments she’d been given to mend into her lap. It was a gown of Lady Katherine’s, and there was a rip in the seam along the shoulder. She carefully threaded her needle and set to work repairing it, taking care to keep her stitches tiny and perfect.

  “Pardon me,” a male voice said.

  She knew who it was before she looked up. She would recognize that voice anywhere—but how could it be him?

  It was. Lord Galdhor stood in the doorway, his mahogany hair falling into his eyes, a boyishly charming grin on his face.

  “So sorry,” he said. “I was looking for the parlor, but I seem to have gotten turned around. The place is so big! I wonder if someone would be willing to show me the way?”

  The housekeeper looked around the room. “Lenora, show Lord Galdhor to the parlor.”

  Lenora missed a stitch and stabbed herself in the finger with her needle. She was bound to obey the orders of the housekeeper just as much as she was bound to obey the Duchess herself, but for the first time in her life, she was tempted to argue back. Showing Lord Galdhor to the parlor would mean going off on her own with him, even if only for a few moments.

  She got to her feet, eyes fixed on the ground, afraid that her facial expression would give something away if she tried to look at him. If he so much as suspected that she was taken with him—even though she knew nothing could ever become of that feeling—it would create all kinds of problems.

  “Thank you for your assistance, Lenora,” he said when they’d left the sewing room behind. “It was quite embarrassing to find myself lost in the manor. How far away from the parlor am I?”

  She felt caught. She was expressly forbidden from talking with guests—that had always been a household rule. And yet, wasn’t it rude to ignore him when he spoke to her?

  She decided the best option was to keep her answers short. “You’re on the opposite side of the manor from the parlor,” she said.

  “I was afraid of that,” he groaned. “I must have turned left when I was meant to turn right. There are so many corridors here. My own home is arranged in a square, and every floor has only four passages. It’s very hard to get lost there. But Brackhill Manor is exquisite. Did you find it difficult to learn your way around when you came to work here?”

  “No.”

  He laughed. “You must be much more skilled at navigation than I am.”

  She took pity on him. “I’ve been employed here since I was a child.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Did your mother also serve the Duke? I have taken some of the children of my own servants into my employ, once they were old enough.”

  “No,” she said again, hesitating, framing what she wanted to say. “My mother died when I was young.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” Lord Galdhor said. To her surprise, Lenora believed him. He sounded truly sorry for her loss. “I suppose it’s good, then, that the Duke gave you a home and a position?”

  “Yes,” she agreed, “it’s very good to have a place to call home.”

  “Do you enjoy working for Lady Katherine?” he asked.

  That was going too far. Lenora could justify favoring him with polite responses to his questions, but asking her to talk about Lady Katherine—the woman he was to wed—was crossing a line. She wouldn’t allow herself to do it. “The parlor is just through here,” she said, ignoring his question and leading him around a corner.

  To his credit, Lord Galdhor seemed to understand that he had made her uncomfortable. He did not repeat the question or ask a follow up.

  The Duchess and Lady Katherine were sitting in the parlor, a tea service between them. Both ladies got to their feet as Lenora showed the Marquess in. “Lord Galdhor!” the Duchess cried. “We had begun to worry about you.”

  “No need, Your Grace,” Lord Galdhor said with a smile. “I’m afraid I took a wrong turning on my way here, but Lenora here was kind enough to set me straight.”

  Lady Katherine’s eyes flashed to Lenora. She frowned. Lenora felt a chill go through her.

  “Lenora,” the Duchess said, her voice flinty. “You were given chores to do this morning, were you not? I believe I asked you to mend some clothes.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “And is that work completed?”

  “No, Your Grace.” There was no point in saying she had been interrupted with a request to show Lord Galdhor to the parlor—anyone could see that that was so. This conversation was about shaming Lenora, not about the work she was or wasn’t doing. It would go easier for her if she went along with it.

  “Why have you abandoned a task you were set, if it hasn’t been completed?” the Duchess asked.

  “I apologize, Your Grace.” Lenora looked at the floor.

  “I didn’t ask whether you apologized. I asked you why you had done it.”

  “Yes, Your Grace, I—”

  “Wait a moment,” Lord Galdhor interrupted. Lenora’s heart sank. This was only going to make everything worse. But there was nothing she could do except to watch it happen.

  The Duchess’ manner changed completely as she turned to Lord Galdhor. “Yes, Lord Galdhor?” she said, her face practically a simper.

  “I don’t want Lenora to be reprimanded,” he said.

  Lady Katherine flinched when Lenora’s name came out of Lord Galdhor’s mouth. Lenora saw that flinch and felt it like a slap. There would be a price to pay for this moment, she knew. It was only a matter of time.

  “I can’t have my household staff walking away from their chores,” the Duchess said. “I’m sure you understand that, Lord Galdhor. You have a staff of your own, surely.”

  “I do,” he agreed. “And I do understand. But Lenora’s presence here is my fault, not her own. I required a guide to the parlor, and your housekeeper asked her to show me the way. She did not ask for the task, I assure you. If I hadn’t lost my way, she would still be working.”

  The Duchess’ lips pressed together in a narrow line. “I see.”

  She doesn’t like any of this, Lenora thought. She doesn’t like that I was alone with Lord Galdhor. She doesn’t like that Lord Galdhor is defending me, being kind to me. She doesn’t want him to like me…but he doesn’t like me. Can’t she see that? He’s a kind man, that’s all.

  Of course, it did take an exceptionally kind man to treat a servant the way Lord Galdhor had treated her. To take an interest in her history, in her life, as if she were someone who mattered. He must have a very big heart.

  What on Earth is he doing with Lady Katherine?

  She felt horrified the moment the thought occurred to her. What an appalling thing to think about her Lady! If the Duchess knew—!

  “Lenora,” the Duchess said, “return to your chores at once.”

  Relieved at the opportunity for escape from this uncomfortable situation, Lenora made a little curtsy and retreated from the room as fast as she could.

  Perhaps the problem
was that the Duchess could see through me, she thought as she retreated back to the sewing room. Certainly, Lady Katherine saw something. She was accustomed to hostility and dislike from her Lady, but not to such loathing glares as she had received just now. Was it possible that the Duchess and Lady Katherine had seen that Lenora admired Lord Galdhor?

  If they had, they were surely laughing at her now. What a foolish girl she was. Of course, she knew her feelings could never amount to anything—but how foolish of her even to develop them in the first place! A mare might as well harbor feelings for her knight.

  And yet…and yet, the Duchess hadn’t seemed to find the situation humorous at all. And that didn’t make sense to Lenora.

  She must think I’m getting ideas above my station, Lenora decided. She must think that I take these feelings seriously, that I imagine they might be returned. That made sense. The Duchess had always been especially sensitive to the possibility that Lenora might develop too high an opinion of herself. Lenora didn’t think it was something that had ever happened. Certainly, it had never been reflected in her behavior.

  If only she could set aside her feelings for Lord Galdhor! If only she could compel herself to stop thinking about him, to forget the way his smile lit up his handsome face and the way she had felt when he had taken an interest in who she was. If only she could stop wondering what it would feel like to be held in his arms, to spin with him in a dance as Lady Katherine had.

  I suppose these might be considered ideas above my station, she thought wryly. She didn’t take any of her fantasies seriously, of course, but it was fairly shocking that she was indulging in them at all.

  Lenora knew enough of Lady Katherine to know that her Lady would respond poorly to any sort of happiness in the life of the maid she hated so much. If Lenora had begun a romance with a commoner, Lady Katherine would have disliked it. She might even have forbidden it.

  She can’t forbid me from having feelings, Lenora thought. It must be absolutely maddening to her.

  But the truth was that it was maddening to Lenora herself. She didn’t want to feel this way. She didn’t want to think about Lord Galdhor the way she had been. Nothing could ever happen between them, and it would only continue to get her into trouble.

  Lady Katherine was already suspicious, and so was the Duchess. And all Lenora had done was to escort Lord Galdhor to tea. All she had done was follow orders.

  They don’t like seeing us together. That’s what it is. It worries them both to see us together.

  And it didn’t really matter why that was. It didn’t matter that they were being unreasonable, that they were being irrational. What mattered above all was what would happen to Lenora if she continued to be a thorn in the side of the ladies of the house.

  They would dismiss her.

  No. The Duke would never allow it. He couldn’t.

  Maybe. She would be a fool to depend on that. She knew that she had to look out for herself, first and foremost. The Duke favored her, but she couldn’t be certain of what he would do in any situation, and if Lady Katherine called for her dismissal and he acquiesced, she would be out on the street.

  Lenora would have to take measures to ensure her own safety.

  She would have to avoid Lord Galdhor altogether for the remainder of his stay at the manor.

  It shouldn’t be too difficult to do, she thought. After all, her normal chores wouldn’t lead her into his path. Her responsibilities were centered around serving the ladies of the house. On occasion she was called upon to clean public spaces or to serve the whole family. But she didn’t believe Lady Katherine or the Duchess would call on her for those sorts of things.

  Not now, anyway. Not now that they’ve seen Lord Galdhor talking to me. Calling me by my name.

  And besides, he would be going home very soon. Back to his own manor. And then he and Lady Katherine would marry, and he would take her away too, and Lenora would be left with just the Duchess to serve. That would be an improvement. The Duchess disliked her, but at least there was only one of her.

  And Lord Galdhor would be gone. Lenora wouldn’t have to worry about facing him ever again.

  Unless Lady Katherine takes me with her, that is. But she wouldn’t…would she?

  Lenora had thought it impossible that Lady Katherine would ever elevate her to the position of lady’s maid. But what if Lady Katherine felt the desire to flaunt her marriage in Lenora’s face? If she truly did suspect how Lenora felt about Lord Galdhor, it was something she might well decide to do.

  Then Lenora would have to watch them together every day. She would spend the rest of her life ducking through doorways and around corners, avoiding the attention of the man who so interested her.

  Dear God, please don’t let that happen. Let her decide to leave me behind.

  Either way, Lenora’s path forward right now was clear. She would avoid Lord Galdhor. She would not look at him. She would not speak to him. When she saw him coming, she would go the other way.

  If he never had the chance to initiate conversations with her, she wouldn’t be drawn in. She wouldn’t make the mistake she had made today of enjoying his interest in her, of allowing herself to be carried away by the fact that a handsome, kind man found her worth talking to.

  Lady Katherine is right if she thinks I’m forgetting my place. That’s exactly what I’m doing. I shouldn’t be having these thoughts at all.

  But Lenora had to admit that the idea of keeping her distance from Lord Galdhor was not an appealing one. She knew it was unwise, dangerous, even, but…she wanted to talk to him again.

  No man had ever taken an interest in her before. And Lord Galdhor was handsome, well educated, titled…not that she cared for his title, of course, although she was sure Lady Katherine would assume that she did. But Lenora thought she would have found Lord Galdhor attractive no matter who he was. Even if he was a peasant. Even if he had been living on the street.

  And it isn’t just his looks either, she thought. His looks were a factor, certainly—there was no denying that. Those captivating eyes! She had never seen such eyes. When she looked at him, she felt as if she were seeing through to his very soul.

  And his hair. It looked so soft. She longed to bury her hands in it. It was a strange, unfamiliar compulsion, yet it was one she couldn’t deny.

  His skin was smooth and even. His arms were muscled—she could see the definition of them through his shirt. And his hands—his big hands, his long fingers—

  No. This was exactly the sort of thing she couldn’t permit herself to think! Lord Galdhor was here for Lady Katherine. It was massively inappropriate for Lenora to look at him, to think of him in that way.

  And besides, she told herself firmly, you’re nothing to him. You’re a maid in the house of the lady he’s courting, nothing more. He was kind to you because he’s a kind man, not because he feels anything for you.

  God, he’s such a kind man…

  She couldn’t allow herself to get carried away by his kindness either. Yes, he had been kind to her. But it would be a mistake to think that that meant anything. She was sure he was kind to everyone he met, noble or not. It was only the fact that Lenora was so used to being treated with contempt by the Duchess and Lady Katherine that had made Lord Galdhor’s kindness feel special to her. In truth, there had been nothing noteworthy about it.

  Had there?

  If there was nothing special about it, why did it feel so special? Why did it feel like, when he looked at me, he actually saw me?

  Because you’re fantasizing, she told herself. You want to be special. You want to believe this handsome marquess saw something in you, because you want there to be something in you worth seeing. You want him to care for you because you so long to be cared for.

  And you never will be. Not like that. Not by a man like him. That isn’t for you.

  She let out a sigh and sat down to her sewing.

  Chapter 7

  Her intentions were good. Truly, they were. She woke up the ne
xt morning fully resolved to keep her distance from Lord Galdhor.

  But, as it turned out, he had no such reservations.

  “Good morning, Lenora,” his voice rang across the foyer as she descended the stairs, intending to make her way to the kitchen and see whether there was any warm bread left over from breakfast.

  What could she do? If she tried to turn and run back the way she had come, she would only draw more attention to herself. He might even try to pursue her, and that was the last thing she wanted. “Good morning, Lord Galdhor,” she said cautiously.

  His face was flushed, and she suspected he had just come in from outdoors. She wondered whether he had been out riding. A part of her longed to ask. She would have liked to know which horse he had chosen. She would have liked to talk to him about Chester, who was her favorite, and to learn which horse he preferred.