Page 58 of Baron in Check
By the time the carriage pulled up to Greg’s townhouse, Hermy was giddy with excitement but also nervous. She hadn’t tried on the lingerie, nor had she ever worn such a garment. Would Greg like her in it? Wasn’t she too wanton in flaunting it before their wedding? Reeling from the questions of her insecurity and tantalized by the gentle kisses and hungry eyes Greg had bestowed upon her in the carriage, she gripped the leather straps of the hat box as Greg put his hand on her back to usher her inside.
“Your Grace, you have company,” the butler said with a somber expression.
“I thought my instructions were clear: Lady Ellsworth will be the mistress of this house and is not to be treated as a guest,” Greg said.
“He means me.” A tall blond man in an impeccably tailored evening frock stepped into the doorway to Greg’s parlor.
Greg inhaled and stepped in front of Hermy. “I don’t recall inviting you to my home, List. We’ve already had one game this evening?”
“Och, so informal, Stone. Or should I say Stein?” He sounded threatening, and Hermy tried not to acknowledge it, but the factthat he’d arrived before Greg gave him a positional advantage. “Aren’t you going to invite me for a whisky so I can formally speak to you?”
“No.”
“Why? Are you ashamed of the fallen girl from the season in 1814?” List’s creepy smile at Hermy made her feel instantly dirty. Standing behind Greg wasn’t a good position for the queen; her path was blocked.
As if privy to her thoughts, Greg took two steps forward and one to the side. A knight’s jump away from her, he now faced List. “You’re not welcome in my home.”
“Too bad, truly. I was hoping for a friendly game of revanche,” List said.
“Wasn’t the defeat with the bishop and queen enough?” Greg asked.
“It was mate, no doubt. But I got a queen out of it, which is more than I can say for you.” He gave Hermy a smile that could have frozen lava.
“Your Baroness is no match for her,” Greg said.
“That’s true and it’s why I am here. After you left, I studied the board the ladies played.” He cocked his head and sent ice daggers from his eyes at Hermy that her blood curdled. “And you lied.”
“I beg your pardon?” Hermy stepped closer to Greg.
“You led Sofia to believe she was teaching you chess. But you don’t need a teacher, do you?”
“I didn’t challenge her to a game. She assumed.”
“List, you’ll have to excuse me”—Greg gestured toward the door—“it’s late, and we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Wedding preparations, no doubt. It was a touch-and-go situation, wasn’t it? Based on what I’ve heard, your move has been long overdue, Stone.”
“Get out!”
“Nah, nicht so hastig.” Not so fast. “I came with a message.”
“Speak to my secretary in the morning.”
“Not for you, for her.”
Greg cast Hermy a look that didn’t hide his fear. “Whatever you have to say to her, you shall say to me.”
“Very well. I received word from a friendly solicitor that the abeyance is … what’s the word in English again?”
Hermy held her breath. “Mister Johnson?”
“Yes, but the word he used fails me…” List tapped his polished boot on the parquet. His entire attire was overdone, as if he’d donned his finest clothes to amplify the stench of his threats. “Befristetis the word.”
“Out with it,” Greg said, but Hermy didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t care what a certain word meant, if it was from the solicitor, it could only be hair-splitting and surely not in her favor.
“There’s not an exact translation in English but the essence is this. The Abeyance is temporary.”
“How temporary?” Hermy asked.
