Page 2 of Baron in Check
“On their natural squares,” Greg growled, upset he’d lost to Fave once again. It irked him that Fave was just a little taller, a little richer, a little younger, and much more married with a wonderful family than Greg could ever hope for.
Fave buttoned his coat. “Have you heard about the player at White’s?” It was good to be aware of new players at the gentlemen’s club near St. James.
Greg remembered the rumors about an unknown player who’d won several games with the same endgame every time.It sounded familiar, but Greg couldn’t quite place the pattern without seeing the entire game. “Sounds like an Oxford move to me, how he beats his opponents. Has he played List yet?”
“Oh, I hope not, but I fear he will.” Baron Wolfgang von List of Prussia lingered at White’s and had his tentacles everywhere.
“The Lernaean Hydra,” Greg smirked at his friend. Fave loved Greek mythology, and when he and Greg wanted to insult people, they compared them to Greek monsters. “You know, the many heads he sprouts when he’s annoyed...”
Fave laughed heartily and patted Greg on the shoulder. “Uncanny, I see the resemblance.” Neither Fave nor Greg had any kind feelings for the Prussian Baron, whose first name spoke volumes: Wolf-gang, a gang of wolves. Just terrible, Greg shuddered to think of a mother who’d name a child so, unless it was apt, of course, since List was the youngest of four brothers. If they were all like him, then a pack of vicious, feral hunters was the right name, after all.
“See you at Sunday dinner.” Fave put on his topcoat. “Thanks for the match.”
Chess was a match for Fave, a game. For Greg, it was everything. Strategy, tactics, sacrifice, and discovering attacks made life worth living for Greg. It also offered the ideal distraction when he lay awake at night, alone, thinking of Hermy and the life he wished he shared with her. And since his work—trade and diplomatic visits—had taken him around the world, chess was all he could bring with him to divert his heart from circling back to Hermy. The game was portable, easy to pack, and so universally popular that he’d found opponents on every continent he’d visited. Greg loved chess. He was grateful for chess. It tied him to Hermy but also distracted him from losing his wits over how terribly he missed their careless puppy love from all those years ago.
Greg took out his chess ledger and noted the positions of the pieces.
Fave turned to leave. “Your king-bishop pawn on f5 could have been tactically rewarding, but the offense went my way because you gave me two diagonals to exploit: a2 to g8 and e8 to h5.”
“You make it sound like I’m a beginner, Fave.”
“You needed to prevent your b8 knight from being pinned. Don’t let that happen when you speak at the House of Lords tomorrow, alright?”
Fave left, and Greg pondered the game.
He’d love to be pinned, in the literal sense. It had been Hermy’s favorite tactic, and Greg’s favorite position. He groaned and rubbed his forehead—time to refocus on the checkered board.
But his mind drifted again. He had to keep his wit sharp because one day he might face an opponent who’d play more than a match. Sometimes, chess and life moves overlapped, and the stakes were as high as on the battlefields. The worst examples of this were wagers with Baron von List.
His gaze fell to the lovely carved queen on the board, which had a slight smile on her wooden face. She wore a veil and a crown, and was painted with shiny white paste. There was only one figurine like her, only one queen for his heart. But could the Black Knight ever reach the White Queen?
Greg leaned back over the board. He’d been on a completely illogical course. What was worse, he hadn’t recognized that he was defenseless once Fave’s white pieces converged on f7. A sense of unease coiled within. Unlike the clearly defined squares and roles of chess, life presented a murky expanse of grey, although within the walls of parliament, one was either an ally or adversary, with no middle ground to tread.
As the moon climbed higher into the sky, casting its pale light through the window, he knew there was no turning back. Tomorrow would reveal all, sealing the fate of many. The bill to emancipate the Jews rested heavily on his shoulders, a beacon of hope, teetering on the brink of realization or ruin.
Greg felt the weight of his role, no longer just a game piece maneuvering through the strategic plays of political chess, but a Black Knight charged with a mission far greater than any he had faced before. He wished he had the power to steer the course of destiny, but in chess, knights jumped alone, reaching places the other pieces couldn’t. Life would be no different, he reckoned. With the future hanging in the balance, he would face the dawn as a knight poised at the edge of battle, where the next move could mean triumph or defeat in the quest for his future and that of his closest allies. Once again, life came down to the question of chess: If he could get the bill to emancipate his Jewish friends, he’d no longer be moving across the board alone but could work with a brigade of other pieces to support him.
At least, he hoped so.
CHAPTER 2
Meanwhile, at Willowby Park in Kent…
“He did not!” Hermy said as the solicitor read her brother’s will.
“Steven assigned Baron Gregory Stone your … arrangements.”
“Call them by name, Mister Johnson. The cruelty won’t go away because it comes from Steven’s grave.” Hermy seethed. She knew her brother had been angry when he caught her with Greg; he’d been too high on his own horse to hear her out. Love and feelings didn’t factor into his plans for the future, only transactions that fueled their fortune. That’s why he’d upheld the silly promise Father had made to Lord Chanteroy that she’d marry his eldest son, David. When Hermy had pleaded with all her might, her brother had agreed to delay her marriage as long as David would lose against him in correspondence chess, slow games played via the post. Her brother’s fascination withcruel revenge for the shame she’d brought upon the family was bottomless.
Hermy closed her eyes and let the air she’d been holding slowly escape through her lips. “So, by arrangements, you mean?—
The solicitor handed her the parchment.
Upon my passing, my sister’s betrothal to Lord Steven Chanteroy II shall continue to be delayed until his victory against my successor, adhering to the rules and conditions established and respected from the initial agreement to postpone their union, shall the path to their matrimony be deemed clear and unobstructed. Should the guardian, Baron Gregory Stone, lose in a game of chess, my sister has two weeks to wed and claim her position as Countess, or she’ll forfeit all that’s due in her name and revert our ancestral fortunes to the Crown. Let this decree stand as a testament to our agreement to be executed with due diligence and respect to the conditions set forth.
Lady Hermione Alexandra Ellsworthhad been locked away in her childhood bed chamber atWillowby Parkat the age of eighteen after her humorless brother caught her in his friend’s bed. It sounded more scandalous than it was because true love couldn’t be as bad as her brother pretended, except that he denied Hermy … well, everything! It was a punishment for falling in love below her station, for finding affection, and for the two years she’d spent with Greg behind his back. Perhaps it wasn’t wise at the time, but it was what her heart had longed for. And she didn’t regret a single minute with Greg, not a kiss, not an embrace in the stillness of the nights. Nothing!
It was the best time of her life.
