Page 44 of Baron in Check
She didn’t need reminding that she was in a battle. After five years of being locked away, she’d come to London and finally had a chance to marry Greg to which a Russian-spy-turned-Prussian-baroness wanted to invite the entire Ton.
Greg inhaled and made another move. Hermy saw he’d captured one of List’s bishops, costing List the two-bishop advantage. Well done!
“What did you have in mind?” Hermy asked as she hung another pawn, leading Sofia to double her pawns twice to formthree pawn islands. She had made it too easy, leaving her queen unguarded.
Before Hermy took the piece, she recalled that Sofia had explained how the queen captures, not how the queen is captured.
She hung her queen.
“I’m afraid we have not discussed the venue for the wedding yet,” Hermy admitted. Again, the truth.
“It does not matter. If you lose, I shall take care of the guest list.” Sophia’s intentions, veiled beneath layers of generous hospitality, were as potent and unpredictable as the foxglove's lethal nectar. To those ensnared by her allure, she offered the promise of ecstasy, only to lead them, unwittingly, to their demise.
“I appreciate your kind support,” Hermy said.
Take my queen, go on!
Sofia did, pursing her lips to suppress her glee. “Nine points, I’m afraid.”
“The queen is worth that much?” Hermy asked.
“Yes.”
“And how many points is the king worth?” Hermy asked as she exchanged her bishop in a sham move, luring Sofia away from the rooks, which were worth more than the bishop.
Double attack on the defenses.
Sofia narrowed her eyes.
One more move and Hermy would incapacitate all the pieces defending the squares around the king and cut off the escape squares. Mate in two was inevitable.
“Check!” List said from his position behind Sofia.
“Did you win?” She rose and walked to her husband’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Mate.” Greg put his black knight before the king, blocking every square around the white king.
List turned as pale as his pieces and seethed. “Well played, Stone.”
“Thank you.” Greg reached out to shake his hand, but List didn’t lift his.
When Greg withdrew his hand, he looked at Hermy and said, “Let’s go. Now.”
“Well, Lady von List. Thank you for the chess lesson,” Hermy brushed imaginary wrinkles off her dress. “It is getting rather late.”
“Wait!” Sofia walked back to the board and eyed it from Hermy’s perspective. “You are eleven points behind, yet not all is lost for you.”
“I beg your pardon?” Hermy turned to Greg, hoping he would prevent them from finishing the game. Hermy could have mated Sophia on move four, seven, twelve, nineteen, and on the past three.
“Stone, you won this round. I’m a man of my word, so I will not interfere with your presentation of the bill on Monday morning.”
“Thank you,” Greg said. “And what have you wagered, darling?” The corners of his mouth turned down, lips pressed into a thin line as his eyebrows knitted together, masking his mischief and calculating wit with the tone of a besotted fiancé. His eyes found Hermy’s pieces.
“The wedding guest list,” Hermy said.
The charged air in the study reached a crescendo as it became clear that Greg and Hermy had not just held their ground—they had advanced it. Now the question was whether they should take the stab or forfeit the round.
“One more turn.” Sophia sat with little grace as if her belly was in her way.
