The Bride Ship. Deborah Hale
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Название: The Bride Ship
Автор: Deborah Hale
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Историческая литература
Серия: Mills & Boon Historical
isbn: 9781472040541
isbn:
Jocelyn tried to keep any note of premature triumph from her voice as she removed Sir Robert’s knight from the board, the first capture of the match.
There were likely hundreds of ways he could beat her yet. Especially now that she had put him on his guard. He might be a more experienced player than she, but he would have to spare the match more than a crumb of his attention if he hoped to win.
Still it boosted her confidence to have made that first capture. Unless she was mistaken, there might be better yet to come. What would her father think if he could see how she was making use of the skills he had taught her?
She recalled those long-ago years as if seeing them through a window of golden glass. How she had reveled in the attention the marquess had lavished upon her, then! Mistaking it for love when he had only been cultivating her as an asset of potential value in his quest for dynastic power. At least Governor Kerr was forthright in his dislike of her.
Jocelyn watched with mute satisfaction as he scrutinized his position more closely before capturing her knight with his queen. His scowl told her he knew what she would do next and she did not disappoint him. Her queen took his undefended bishop. From now on, if she could simply trade him piece for piece until the end of the game, she would win. But she had learned not to underestimate Sir Robert Kerr. A pity he had not learned the same about her.
The flurry of captures brought their spectators back to hover around the table whispering to one another. Sir Robert castled kingside. Jocelyn advanced her queen’s pawn. After a moment’s deliberation, he moved his queen’s rook to defend his king on the other side. As soon as he let go of the piece, a flicker of his brow told Jocelyn he had seen his mistake but hoped she would not.
When she brought her bishop forward, he cursed under his breath. The man recognized trouble when he landed in it—she would give him that. What a shame he also imagined trouble where none existed.
A series of captures was inevitable now. All he could do was minimize the damage. His queen took her bishop. Her queen took his. Their audience broke into a spatter of applause.
Jocelyn willed her hand not to tremble as she lifted the teacup to her lips. The match was now hers to lose, but she could not hope to maintain the advantage of Sir Robert’s inattention. From now on he would be watching very closely indeed to exploit any mistake she might make. Somehow the tantalizing prospect of victory unsettled her more than the fear of defeat.
They continued to play, the governor taking his time and studying the board carefully before each move. That gave Jocelyn time to plan, as well, anticipating what his next move might be and how she could best counter it. Several strategic moves gave way to another flurry of captures that robbed the governor of a knight and three pawns in exchange for Jocelyn’s bishop and two pawns.
She sensed the moment he knew he was beaten. His moves picked up tempo once again and seemed calculated to bring the game to a swift end. He did not concede defeat, but fought on, allowing her to savor the triumph of a complete victory.
In the end, her queen alone placed him in checkmate, his king boxed into a corner.
“Bravo!” Sally squealed.
The gentlemen applauded Jocelyn’s win, some with more vigor than others. She understood why a few moments later when they exchanged small sums of money.
The governor rose and extended his hand over the chessboard. “Well played, Mrs. Finch. I hope you will allow me the opportunity to redeem myself in a rematch during your stay in Halifax.”
As they shook hands, Jocelyn lowered her voice for his ears alone while the others were discussing their wagers. “I shall be honored to play you again, sir, if that is your wish. But the outcome of this match does not impugn your skill. We both know you allowed me to win.”
He made no effort to release her hand. “For the sake of my pride, I wish I could claim that were so, but I assure you it is not. In my arrogance, I yielded you an advantage, but you had the skill and resource to capitalize upon it. You are a formidable opponent, ma’am.”
Over the years Jocelyn had received many of the usual compliments gentlemen lavished upon ladies. Tributes to her beauty, her charm, her accomplishment, even her wit. Why then did Sir Robert’s bald, grudging scrap of praise set her insides aflutter? Or was it the warmth of his hand as he clung to hers, only now letting it go?
She was done with such feelings, Jocelyn insisted to herself. And she resented the governor for provoking them, though she knew it had never been his intention.
“You have only begun to see my formidable nature, sir. I mean to prove you wrong about the bride ship—that it will be an unmixed blessing to your colony.”
“I hope you will succeed, ma’am.” He did not look by any means convinced that she would. “For the sake of the colony, I sincerely hope so.”
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