Page 59 of Love Is A Draw
A ripple ran through the hall beyond. Even the arbiter straightened, his hand frozen on his pen.
Sofia leaned in, disbelief shadowing her face. She hunted for the out that wasn’t there. Her hand hovered, faltered.
Gail placed her final piece with quiet certainty.
“Checkmate.”
The word rang louder than a shout.
Sofia stared at the board as though the pieces had betrayed her. “No—no, that isn’t—” She pushed back from the table, skirts swishing violently. “I hadn’t finished. The game—there were?—”
“The game is complete,” the arbiter said, his voice rough with something like awe. “The winner is… well, her.” No name. No title. But winner nonetheless.
The baronesse shrieked. Truly shrieked, the sound slicing through the chamber like glass underfoot. The gallery rustled with movement, fans snapping open to mask laughter, whispers carrying her humiliation through the crowd.
But Gail barely heard. She rose, spine straight, the board gleaming between them like proof. She didn’t even look at Sofia again. There was no time for her theatrics.
Greg inclined his head from across the hall. A simple gesture, but it carried the weight of invitation, of acknowledgment. Come. Play me.
Gail’s heart pounded. Yes. This was the title she had to earn. Not handed, not hidden. And when it was done, then she would find Victor.
The scrape of skirts turned her head. Rachel Pearler pushed through the gallery, a folded paper in her hand, waving it high as if it were a flag. Her face was alight, eyes shining.
“Gail!” she called, breathless. “He’s here. He’s in England. Your grandfather—he’s here!”
The words struck like a bell inside Gail’s chest. Her grandfather? Dmitry—alive, arrived? She clutched the table’s edge to steady herself.
But Greg’s voice cut across the swell of astonishment. Calm. Firm. “Remember List’s rules.”
She looked at him, still uncomprehending.
Greg’s tone did not waver. “The Black Knight is allowed one companion at his side. One shield against the politics of this title. But not two.” His gaze steadied her, weight as firm as an oath. “So you must choose who stands with you.”
CHAPTER 25
One by one, the room had emptied until it felt as if only Greg and Gail remained. But people were watching them. The stillness had fractured. Gail pushed back from the chessboard, the echo of her chair scraping against the floor far too loud.
Greg strode to the door, voice clipped as he barked an order to one of the guards. “Find out where they’ve taken him and get my carriage ready so I can follow them when I finish this game.”
Her heart surged into her throat, and she clasped her chest with both hands.Victor.
“I promise to keep him safe,” Greg said.
“You use your title for the Jews,” Gail sounded as if questioning a miracle.
Greg shook his head. “I don’t use it for the Jews. By blood, I’m one of you.”
Gail gasped. She’d heard about baptized Jews. But one who was also an earl and fought for them in parliament was heroic.
“Don’t say anything. Just focus on the game, please. If you win, Gail, you bring us both closer to victory.” He sat slowly across from her, not as the Earl of Ashby, not even as atournament director, but as a man who had carried a torch longer than most had dared to hold it.
The board between them gleamed under the sconces, each square reset, each piece waiting.
“It is an honor to play with the Black Knight.” Gail curtsied and took her position.
The air between them changed. It crackled with competition, and with something finer. Expectation. Respect.
And perhaps, a quiet kind of farewell.
