Page 29 of King Takes Queen
From behind, Lord Harmon said, “Ah…Lord Drake…I’d turn about and head to your left. That is, if you are interested in a certain chess match that has everyone gathered in the card room.”
Hands fisted at his sides, Anthony turned and marched back toward the group. As he passed Lord Harmon, the host muttered, “You won’t be able to see anything. The room is overcrowded.”
Anthony dismissed Lord Harmon’s observation. He was skilled at maneuvering through a crowded room unnoticed, and this would be no different.
Except he found himself sighing deeply as he approached the line of guests spilling out from the card room. Lord Harmon hadn’t exaggerated. Damn.
He began his quest and squeezed through the crowd. The enormous sums gentlemen were wagering on the outcome would put some of them in dun territory, and combined with the titters of enthusiastic support for Minerva from the ladies behind their fans, this explained why every guest had abandoned their usual posts and were gathered about. His progress slowed the closer he got to the center of the room, where he gathered the match was to take place.
There wasn’t a card table in sight. The room was filled with black evening coats standing shoulder to shoulder, with the ladies waving their fans to ward off the muggy heat of the congested room.
Still not close enough to see either Minerva or Camdon, he continued to skillfully maneuver his way through the crowd. He attempted to not draw attention to himself. However, not surprisingly, his serious features were met with curious stares and looks of disbelief as he jostled gentlemen and trod on ladies’ toes.
Undeterred, he continued to barge his way toward the chess table. He had to reach Minerva before the match commenced. The tips of his ears prickled. Kent and Phyllis weren’t far behind him. He caught the pair issuing a series of “Beg pardon” and “Please excuse Lord Drake” as they walked behind him.
A sour feeling settled in his stomach. Mansville. The wretched man was nearby. Anthony stopped and scanned the room for Minerva’s tormentor. He spied the callous gentleman seated slumped, arms crossed and sulking in the chair next to Avondale. Mansville reminded Anthony of the naughty boys placed on display next to the headmaster during his days at Harrow.
The Duke of Avondale wasn’t his favorite neighbor, but given the man’s engagement to Isadora, Anthony had resolved himself to be amicable toward the man who had been nothing but a thorn in his side for years, plaguing him with offers from the Head of the Foreign Office.
He resumed wedging his way through the standing bodies until he reached the rows of seats positioned in two semicircles on either side of the chessboard. Minerva and Camdon were already seated and conversing. Why were they chatting rather than playing?
Anthony edged his way closer. The air around the chessboard and the spectators close by hummed with a tension and energy that was present at each and every one of Minerva’s public matches. Ladies and gentlemen that considered themselves chess enthusiasts were at the ready to criticize the play of Minerva, who had for years reigned as chess master despite the theorem that a man’s mind was far superior to that of a lady’s.
A few more steps and he’d be up front and in plain sight. He held his breath, uncertain of what Minerva’s reaction to his public appearance would be. The tension in his chest from being separated from her eased as he approached. What a dullard he’d been all these years for not publicly declaring his affection for her before.
Kent and Phyllis had caught up and were right behind him. Slightly out of breath, Phyllis scolded him, “You could have at least attempted to say ‘excuse me.’ You ruined at least a half-dozen pairs of slippers along our trek.”
He was in no mood for lectures on etiquette. “I’d rather seek out forgiveness than ask for permission to trod upon toes this eve.” Anthony continued to forge a path to the front.
“Gah. You are a bear tonight.” Phyllis peered around him and then tugged on his sleeve.
He stopped and turned to face her. “What?”
She turned him by the shoulders, and Camdon glanced up in his direction and nodded. His friend’s assessing gaze held a devilish twinkle—the man was always on the hunt for a challenge. Anthony took a moment and noted Camdon was seated in front of the black-lacquered pieces, which meant Minerva had the advantage of starting first.
Anthony returned his friend’s greeting with a curt nod of his own and then turned his attention to Minerva. She was dressed in a pale green gown he’d never seen before. Unlike most, Minerva wasn’t opposed to wearing a gown more than once, preferring to allocate the Malbury modiste funds to her younger sisters. He’d suspected it was all part of Minerva’s plan to get Isadora and Diana wed first, but he questioned his presumption when she continued the practice even after Diana happily tied the knot with Chestwick. Minerva’s selflessness knew no bounds.
His gaze narrowed on the woman his heart ached for. What aspect of her life was she seeking to escape from?
He blinked. Candlelight from the chandelier above glittered off the diamonds strung through Minerva’s coiffure. She was absolutely stunning this evening. Confidence radiated from the woman. Minerva was unnervingly calm and composed. He willed her to look up, but she was methodically adjusting her pieces into perfectly straight lines. Why was she ignoring him?
Minerva sat back and turned slightly to her right, and finally met Anthony’s gaze. She arched a brow and then flicked her gaze to three empty seats next to Chestwick and Diana in the front row.
How in the blazes had Minerva known to expect his arrival?
Anthony glanced over his shoulder. Kent shrugged, but Phyllis’ beaming smile told him she was responsible for alerting Minerva in advance of his plans. He led the happily married couple over to the empty chairs and slid into the one next to Chestwick.
Chestwick leaned to his left and whispered, “You’re late.”
“And yet I’ve managed to be on time for the first move.”
“You should know Camdon sequestered me away for hours late this afternoon. It was worse than being interrogated by the French.” Chestwick’s body shook at his mention of Britain’s enemy.
Diana peered around her husband and whispered, “This won’t be like any of Minerva’s previous matches. Camdon won’t be easily defeated.”
“It comes as no surprise to me that Camdon wished to gain information regarding your match with Minerva,” Anthony said. “He is well trained, and I’d expect nothing less.” He shifted in his seat to observe Chestwick and Diana’s reaction to his next statement. “Camdon shall make a fine brother-in-law, wouldn’t you agree?”
Diana sat back and scowled at Camdon, while Chestwick grinned and replied, “Camdon may be a worthy opponent, one that might even have a chance of winning, but I have faith my sister-in-law shall prevail and gain what she seeks.”