Monday evening, Declan escorts her to the family room, and they sit to enjoy a fire. He teasingly picks up a pawn from the chess set and asks, “Do you play?”
His teasing grin has her smiling back. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“No, they don’t,” he laughs. “Play with me?”
“If you insist.” She sits across from him, and they begin. A few minutes into the game, she feels him staring at her as she looks over the board.
“Who taught you how to play?” he asks, curious about her life.
“My Father,” she replies and bites her lower lip before moving her bishop.
Declan triumphantly takes her bishop and watches her closer. She moves without really thinking it through, “London, chess is a game of strategy, you should think about your moves before you act.”
Her eyebrows lift, and she nods, “Yes, of course,” and moves a pawn, which he sighs and takes immediately.
“Good move, Declan,” she smiles, but the light is missing in her eyes.
He frowns at her in outrage.
“Are you letting me win?”
“Of course, not,” she covers her mouth with a hand to hide the smile, but it’s too late.
“You imp!”
London glares at him and drops her hand. “I beg your pardon. What did you call me?” she snaps. A blush of anger colors her cheeks, and he is thrilled to see fire flood into her eyes.
“An imp, it means…”
“I know the definition, Declan! I wasn’t sure you could handle being trounced by a woman!”
“If you earn the win, I can handle it.” He leans forward and lifts one eyebrow. “Would you care to wager on this game?”
“A lady never bets, Declan. It's unbecoming,” she sniffs and glances away though curious about his dare.
The elegant way she holds herself hints at education and an upbringing that doesn't go with the persona of the Mouse. How did she end up working as a maid? He almost asks, but she glances at him and smiles.
“Besides, I'm going to win in four moves, Declan, that's not pride, it's a fact.”
His mouth falls open, and he laughs out loud, “I've been playing since I was a boy, you can't possibly,” she interrupts his speech by taking his bishop.
“One,” she says and wiggles the piece in the air with a laugh of delight.
“Is that how it’s going to be?” he moves his Queen, and she grins triumphantly.
“This is going to hurt you more than me, Declan,” she whispers and slides her knight into place, putting stress on his King.
Declan frowns, and his smile fades as he realizes she does know what she's doing. He moves a pawn into the center to control the middle of the board, and she teases, “It's too late for that move,” and slides her other bishop into place. “Checkmate,” she grins as he stares at her in shock.
“Lady Sheridan, you've been holding out on me,” he declares and laughs as he resets the board. “Play me again,” he demands, “but this time make me earn it!” The intensity in his eyes takes her breath.
“I don't think that's a good idea, Declan,” she sits back, but he refuses to listen.
“We are friends, are we not?”
“Are we?” she wonders at the quick flash of hurt she sees.
“I’d like to think so. Friends don’t lie or keep secrets from each other. I’d like to earn your trust, London.”
“I don't mean to hurt you, Declan, but we hardly know each other, and most men wouldn't be able to handle being crushed at chess every night by their wife.” She grins at his scandalous look.
“Every night? You should be humble, Lady Sheridan. Pride, doesn't suit you.” He quips and laughs when she shrugs her shoulders.
“Again, it’s not pride, Lord Sheridan, but fact.”
Declan is tempted to kiss her senseless and see if she still feels so sure of herself. The thought surprises him. “I like this new side of you,” he announces. “I look forward to proving you wrong.”
London giggles, and he's surprised at the joy that simple sound gives him. There is a shift in their relationship at that moment, and he wiggles his eyebrows at her, causing her to laugh again.
“I can see why there was such talk about you amongst the ladies.”
“You flatter me, London, but I'm onto your tricks,” he takes a pawn, and she remembers her father's word to school her features. Reveal nothing, or risk being taken. As she glances up into the eyes of the man across from her, she realizes not all men are the same.
“Declan,” she sighs, “you leave me no choice. This time I'm going to win in three moves.” She makes her move, and he laughs and sits back, stunned a few moments later when she does exactly as promised.
“You have to teach me!” he demands.
“A Lady never reveals her secrets,” she laughs softly and looks at him with surprise. “My face hurts from laughing. Thank you for a lovely evening.”
“You’re welcome, now what other games do you play?”
Chapter 22
That night things shift between them, and over the next two weeks, they spend their evening’s enjoying strolls in the garden, talking about music, reading from the bible, reviewing Sunday's sermon, and of course, playing chess. Declan is an unusual man. Good looking, smart, and kind. A knock on the door jars her from her reverie.
“Lady Sheridan, I have your dress,” the young maid, Mary, hurries inside, carrying her soft pink dress freshly pressed.
“Thank you, Mary, I’ll have breakfast in the garden, as usual,” she smiles when Mary nods.
Mary fixes her hair and helps her dress quickly. “Mary, I'll need a carriage to go
