Page 16 of Her Highlander's Darkest Temptation
“What o’ it?”
“If Laird Ranald is skilled as he seems, it will be checkmate in five, perhaps four moves.”
“Ye’re jokin’.”
“I am not.” Lydia looked to Laird Ranald. “My lo-laird, would you move your castle or your bishop next?”
“Bishop.”
“Then it is checkmate in five… or stalemate if he castles and puts his king in the corner.”
“Wha…” All three men bent over the board, studying it. After a moment, Ewan shook his head and leaned back. “I cannae see it.”
A moment later, Laird MacEwen’s hand shifted to touch a piece, brow furrowing as he worked through the moves in his head. Then he cursed and sat back with a glower, toppling his king in surrender as he went. “I cannae believe I didnae see ye setting tha’ up.”
Ewan chuckled. “I cannae believe the maid saw it from across the room, even without havin’ watched the game afore hand.” He grinned at Lydia. “Ye’ve some skill, lass. Especially fer someone who hasnae played much.”
“It was only luck. I have an eye, sometimes, for patterns. It was nothing…” Lydia flushed and looked away from his keen-eyed gaze. She started to step away from the table, but Laird MacEwen rose and waved her toward his seat.
“Play Laird Ranald in a match, lass.”
Lydia winced, her cheeks burning as she realized she’d drawn the very attention she sought to avoid onto her. “Oh, I could never…”
“Ye can if I say ye can. Come. Sit and play a match with me.” Laird Ranald tipped his head toward the chair. “Ye obviously have some skill, an’ we’ve played each other often enough tae wish tae see a new player at the board.”
The other two men were looking at her with anticipation, and Lydia twisted her hands in her skirts, feeling trapped. She wanted to refuse, but there was no graceful way to do so. She recalled Maisie’s warning—better to be uncertain or to fail than to be seen as unwilling to do what the laird demanded.
The maid had been talking about chores, but the wisdom seemed sound for her current situation. With a deep breath to bolster her courage and a slow, reluctant exhalation, Lydia took a seat across from her new employer.
Without a word, Laird Ranald rotated the board to give her white, and the first move. The two of them set up their pieces, and Lydia moved a pawn near the center of the board. It was a tentative move, not a strong one, easily countered. Laird Ranald moved a pawn in response, and the game began.
Within a handful of moves, Lydia knew that Laird Ranald was easily her match, if not more skilled than she. He made very few errors. His style was more aggressive than her own, but not reckless.
He was a strong opponent. For a moment, Lydia wanted to play earnestly against him, to test her skill against his. Then she remembered her position.
I cannae show too much skill, or he will wonder where I gained the time and practice to learn it.
Her next move, Lydia forced herself to make a mistake, moving a knight in the wrong direction and leaving a gap in her defenses where his queen could strike. Laird Ranald took the move, but his brow furrowed in thought, and he gave her a short, swift glance, as if he’d guessed at the deliberate ploy.
A handful of moves later, the game ended in his victory. Lydia breathed a sigh of relief and bowed her head in defeat. “I thank you for the game, my laird.”
“Aye. Well-played.” There was something—some heavy undertone she didn’t understand—to Laird Ranald’s voice. He waved a hand as if dismissing her, and Lydia rose from the chair before he could change his mind. “Alex, Ewan… I think ‘tis all fer taenight. I’ve tae go and settle a land dispute two villages over taemorrow.”
“Aye.” Both men stretched. Laird MacEwen took a moment to empty his tankard and set it on the table. Lydia hurried to collect it, then gather Ewan’s and cork the flagons while the two men bid each other tonight.
She had the tray in her hand and was almost to the door, following Ewan, when Laird Ranald spoke. “Wait a moment, lass.”
Heart hammering, she turned, and Laird Ranald plucked the tray from her arms. “Come back here.”
“My laird? Have I done something wrong?”
“Nae wrong. But I dinnae like tae win because me opponent isnae willing tae play their best again’ me.” He scowled at her and gestured to the seat she’d so recently vacated. “When I challenged ye tae a game, I expected tae see ye play with the same skill ye used in guessing Laird MacEwen moves… and dinnae think I didnae see that ye kent which move was the proper one when ye made that mistake.”
“I… I did not think it proper to…”
“Sit.” He gestured for her to resume her seat, and reclaimed his own. “I want tae see ye play a real match.”
Lydia eyed the board as he began to set up the pieces. She hadn’t expected him to see the truth in her mistake, and she felt mortified that she’d underestimated him so badly. Worse, in doing so, she’d drawn his attention more surely than she would have if she’d actually won.
