Page 23 of An Earl Unmasked
“Perhaps if Drake believed I was entertaining the idea of engaging in a game of chess…”
“If you won, would you wed Minerva?”
“I witnessed your sister’s fine mathematical mind this afternoon, despite her loss to me. While I’m a skilled strategist on the battlefield, I’m not confident that I would be able to outwit your sister in a game of chess.”
A near-silent thump had Diana scanning the room. Minerva, with her back leaned up against the door jam, arms crossed, and with a lopsided smile, said, “There is no doubt in my mind you would lose.”
Randal leapt off the bed and placed his hands firmly behind him. His lips were twisted into a smirk, but as he turned to face her sister, they thinned into a firm line. He might attempt to fool others into believing he was a surly soul, but Diana had been privy to brief glimpses into his sweet nature.
He strode across the room, headed directly for the door. Minerva quickly stepped out of the threshold into Diana’s chambers. With a curt nod, he waltzed past and disappeared down the corridor.
Minerva flopped onto the bed. “You know how scandalous it is to have an eligible gentleman alone in your chambers. I’m going to pretend I did not witness the pair of you holding hands.”
“How long have you been eavesdropping?” Diana asked.
“I made no secret of my approach. It’s not my fault you two were so engrossed in each other you didn’t hear me.” Minerva settled herself on the bed next to Diana. “Life is not like a Shakespearean play, unfortunately. Drake would not care a wit if I was to marry Chestwick or even one of Mansville’s nefarious cronies.”
“That is not true,” Diana said, reaching for her sister’s hand. “And Benedict would never let that wretched Mansville nor any of his associates marry you.”
“I’ll not ruin Isadora or your chances for a happy marriage. Mayhap I’ll purposefully lose to the next man who sits across a chessboard from me.”
“Do you still love Drake?”
“Aye.”
“Then we should seriously consider Randal’s plan.”
“Randal?”
“He asked me to refer to him by his given name.”
“Just because a gentleman gives you leave to do something doesn’t mean you must. Regardless, do you have feelings of the romantic sort for Chestwick?”
“I’ve only known him for two days, but I feel as if I’ve known him for longer due to having heard so many stories about him from his papa. But he’s not exactly the man I had pictured in my mind. He is more.”
Both stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought. An uneasy feeling rolled through Diana as she pictured Randal playing a game of chess with Minerva. What if the inconceivable occurred and Minerva didn’t win? Would she be forced to keep her word and marry him?
Chapter Twelve
The breakfast roomwas filled with chatter by Diana and her two siblings. Peering over the edge of his copy of theDaily Gazette, Randal caught Diana’s beautiful smile. She had limericks and verses of poetry running through his mind, which was a wonderful change from battlefield orders and stratagems that had occupied his thoughts for far too many years.
The sound of booted footsteps heralded the arrival of Kent and Drake, who, without invitation, entered and gave Randal the briefest of nods as they made their way over to the sideboard.
Randal crisply folded and lowered the paper, placing it front of the empty seat next to him. He noted the conspiratorial looks between Diana and Minerva.
Minerva said, “Brother, it is customary for you to greet our host.”
Kent said, “A good morn to you, Chestwick.” He set his plate on the table and settled into the chair next to Minerva, who asked, “Did you not already break your fast before arriving?”
Kent answered, “No, Drake arrived early and demanded we set out as soon as I was dressed.”
Drake sat next to Diana. “How is your injury faring?”
Greg answered, “Diana is recovering remarkably well. We should be able to return home tomorrow…that is if she continues to rest and refrain from attempting to walk.”
The level of familiarity and comradery amongst them reminded Randal of nights spent around a campfire discussing the next day’s maneuvers with his men. He missed his men. He missed the feeling of being in charge. Since Diana entered his universe, he was no longer the ruler of his own thoughts. The woman plagued his mind, and his body ached to be near her constantly. He glanced at his guests that filled every seat at the ostentatious breakfast table. It was obvious that his home had been seized, and he needed to regain control. Except his decision to be rid of his guests instantly fled as he gaze fell upon Diana.
The woman who was responsible for all his internal turmoil groaned, “I detest being carried about.” Diana sent a pleading look over at Minerva to no avail, for Minerva’s head was bent as she focused on smearing jam upon her toast. She was clearly avoiding all eye contact with the man seated opposite her.
