Page 54 of Love Is A Draw
“I did.” He stood too. “And I found it.”
“What about my grandfather?”
Gail was aware that Fave, Greg, and Lady Hermy were watching them.
“No, I found it in you. You’re Dmitry’s legacy. And I love you. So I need to protect you, Gail.” Victor’s eyes shone in the low light. “If I stay, I become the reason you lose. And I can’t be that. I won’t stand in the way of the honor I sought for Dmitry, not even if I can’t be the one to stand for him against List.”
Her breath caught. “You are not?—”
But he was already retreating.
“I love you,” he said, quietly. “That’s why I have to go. You can’t shine if I cast a shadow on you, Gail.”
Tears burned hot in her eyes. “You’re not at liberty to decide that for me.”
He gave a faint smile. “I’m not deciding for you. I’m giving you the board.”
And then he was gone.
Gail stood in the empty room, her hands clenched at her sides. He loved her. And he’d left anyway. Not for glory. But for her. And that, somehow, hurt worse.
CHAPTER 24
The morning before the second half of Round Three dawned pale and unsettled, as though London itself had risen anxious for the games yet to come. At the Pearlers’ townhouse, the quiet of the breakfast table broke under Maia’s questions, her bright little voice darting between plates of porridge and the comb she refused to let Gail fix in her hair.
“But what happens if you win today?” Maia demanded, wide-eyed. “If you beat the Baroness, then you could play against Greg, couldn’t you? The winner of the women's tournament, wouldn’t that be grand?”
“The women’s section only consisted of Gail and the baroness to appease List that either he or his wife would play against Greg for his title,” Rachel explained as she patted Maiai’s hand. “Nobody expected Gail to stand strong against the baroness.” There was a glint in Rachel’s eye that was both flattering for Gail and also unsettling. Had she put her hopes on her?
“It was just a few rounds to appease the Baroness, that’s all,” Gail’s hand stilled on the ribbon she was tying.
Her throat closed.But truly, wouldn’t it be grand?The thought carried such sweetness—and such peril—that she couldn’t bear to answer at once.
Maia tilted her head, impatience bubbling over. “Why didn’t you win before? I saw you. You made it a draw. Why?”
Rachel Pearler looked up from the teapot, eyes sharp with warning. But Gail lifted a hand, quieting her. If Maia was bold enough to ask, she deserved something in return.
Gail crouched so her gaze met the girl’s. “Sometimes winning is dangerous, Maia.”
“Dangerous?”
“Not everyone forgives a loss. Not men like List. I once read about a man who beat him. A Jew. He vanished the next day. That is why… sometimes… a draw is safer.”
Maia frowned, small hands knotting her ribbon. “But you love chess. Why play if you can’t win?”
Gail’s chest tightened. She smoothed Maia’s hair back from her brow. “Because we live for chess, Maia. But we don’t die for it.”
Silence wrapped the table. Even the clock seemed to tick more softly.
At last, Rachel rose briskly. “Maia, you’ll stay here today. A special guest is expected later. Fave and I must meet him at the port, and we’ll bring you along when it is time. You can ask Gail about the match then.”
Maia’s mouth dropped in protest, but Fave’s calm nod ended the matter. “Later, my darling,” he said.
Gail fastened her gloves with trembling fingers. The weight of Maia’s questions clung to her shoulders as heavily as the gray London sky, but they had to go. A footman had already opened the front door for them. She reached for her bonnet when the knock came—a firm, deliberate sound against the Pearlers’ front door.
The footman answered, and there he stood.
Victor.
