Page 10 of Baron in Check
Her veil was pierced, and she felt just as mousy as she had been all those years ago. The old wounds burst open as if the scar tissue couldn’t contain the shame. Everyone knew she was the fallen girl.
Hermy scratched her temple. “Can I see him, please?”
“See who?” Greg appeared in the doorway, the handsome adult version of the boy she’d loved.
The butterfly had matured as if the five years of latency had magnified its strength. Its flutter nearly knocked the wind out of Hermy.
Greg stood still for a moment too long, and Hermy recognized the flicker in his gaze. He was calculating his next move. With a nod dismissing the butler, he came into the room. His presence commanded the space with quiet confidence. Hehad grown, not just in stature but in the breadth of his shoulders, which now filled out his coat in a way that suggested strength rather than mere fashion. Though trimmed short, his hair rebelled with a few strands that curled just above his collar, the dusty blonde catching the light and reminding Hermy of sunlit afternoons spent in laughter. Based on his expression, he’d not forgotten her.
Hermy willed her nauseating nerves away. “I came to see you.” She sighed, exhausted from the journey, and the events of the week, the day, and her life. Seeing him again was almost enough to make her feel like she’d returned to her old self. Almost.
Please don’t send me away.
As he approached, his gaze found hers, and she was struck anew by his warmth. For a flicker of a second, there was a glint of skepticism, but then he blinked, and it disappeared. His eyes, a rich hue that danced between the browns of the earth and the blues in the sky at night, seemed to smile even before his lips did. He had mischievous eyes, the window to a million naughty thoughts that promised laughter and whispered secrets, eyes that had seen her at her most unguarded and still looked at her as if she were the only one in the room.
She was back.
Not in a good way.
This wasn’t déjà vu, it was a nightmare she never wished to relive. The last time she and Greg had stood in this room was when … she didn’t want to think about it.
“He’s coming for me,” Hermy said. The five years faded and nothing shielded them from one another or the truth.
Greg’s mien fell and came to her side. “Chanteroy?”
She nodded.
“But the chess games have been keeping him away. He has no right?—”
“He does now.” Hermy opened her reticule, produced a folded copy of her brother’s will and the letter from the solicitor, and handed them to Greg.
Hermy watched his dark blue eyes as he read. His breath hitched, brows fell, and eyes narrowed. “This note says he won by default?”
“Yes. You timed out.”
“I?” He studied the letter again and frowned. “I was in India. I never received any moves.” He rubbed his eyes. “When did I ever agree to play chess for you?”
Five years were naught. Greg hadn’t changed. He’d grown up, but he was still the same.
Weretheystill the same, Greg and Hermy, Hermy and Greg?
Do you still love me as much as I love you?
She shrugged. “You timed out, and now he can come and claim me.” Hermy crossed her arms, hugging herself. She looked at the painting of the ship again, as if to farewell her childhood dreams.
“Are you back then?” he asked. A simple four-word question, but Hermy knew it meant the world.
She swallowed, then nodded faintly.
“And I have to win you over?”
Now she shook her head. He’d done that a lifetime ago. “Win me back?”
“But you said you are back.” He came to her side and hesitated for a moment, but then he reached for her hand. “Hermy?”
“I have a ledger with my brother’s moves. I know exactly when the solicitor sent the letters. Surely he will grant me the benefit of the doubt for your chess correspondence and let you play a game of revanche?”
No words needed to be wasted over whether he’d take her back. She could see it in his eyes. He was better than she remembered, kinder even, stronger, and more lovely than ever.
