Page 11 of Stolen by My Knave
He’d like a lot from her but wouldn’t push her more than she was willing to go. She might one day end up in his bed, but he wanted her there with the full realization she was being led to her own downfall. Jack would never marry. A lover, on the other hand, was perfectly acceptable. He kept telling himself not to touch her—but it was getting harder and harder to remember why. Maybe it was time to abandon that notion and acknowledge the inevitable.
“Why don’t we agree to give the winner a boon of their choosing at whatever time they so desire?
Elizabeth brought her hands together and fidgeted. What was making her so nervous? “Anything?” she asked.
“Whatever your heart desires,” he agreed. He planned on winning either way. Whatever she wanted didn’t matter. He’d be getting the boon to use as he saw fit.
She remained quiet for several excruciating seconds and then nodded in agreement. “What color would you like to be?” She gestured toward the board.
“Lady’s choice,” he said.
Jack was quite good at chess, so it didn’t matter if he began or not. He had strategies in place for either occurrence. He’d studied chess in his spare time and watched other players when given the chance. His innate ability to guess a person’s move helped him to anticipate what he should do and when.
“In that case,” she replied as she sat. “I’ll take black. I think white rather suits you.”
He’d never thought so. When he had earned his title—in the unconventional way—he’d thought it odd. Jack was used to it now, but Whitewood implied an innocence he’d never had. He was far more cynical than to ever be so pure.
Jack sat opposite of her in front of the board. “What do you know about chess?”
She folded her arms together in her lap and lifted her chin to meet his gaze. He could look upon her for hours and not grow tired. She licked her lips and then smiled softly. Jack froze and stared at her dumbly for a moment. His body was responding, and if he didn’t tamper down his desire she’d see far more than her innocent eyes should. “Do you mean the history of it, or the concept?”
“Both,” he replied, curious about her response.
“The history on it is quite obscure. It’s not known precisely when it came about, but most suspect it was around six hundred A.D.”
He’d not quite learned that much about the game. Jack studied strategy, but Elizabeth would have looked beyond the game. She seemed rather efficient that way. “And do you know much about the concept?”
“There is one principle that a person playing chess must follow—win by whatever means necessary. Rules are in place for a reason, and the first person to capture the king or puts the king in check wins.”
That was the simple answer to what the game was about. It was, of course, more complicated than that. The game had phases and each phase depended on the skill of the player. Reaching the end phase was the goal, or as Elizabeth said, capturing the king. Jack fully intended to be the one to do that in as little moves as possible. The sooner the game ended, the quicker he could gain his boon.
“You said your brothers liked to play,” he alleged as he moved a pawn two spaced forward. “How many of these brothers do you have?”
“No cheating, Your Grace.” She moved a pawn two spaces on the other side of the board mirroring his move. “No questions can be asked unless you capture a chess piece.”
“My apologies,” he replied. “What shall we discuss until then?”
He didn’t want to waste his questions on her family. Elizabeth was the one he wanted to become better acquainted with.
“Tell me aboutPride and Prejudice. It’s always nice to hear about it through another’s discovery.”
Jack moved a rook. “I didn’t think I’d like it. I must admit, I’m finding Mr. Darcy an interesting fellow. He’s quite harsh and doesn’t know how to loosen up and have a spot of fun. He must live a boring life.”
Elizabeth chose to move a pawn again. “He’s brave in his own way. It’s not always easy to have the responsibility of so many on one’s shoulders. A lot of people have preconceived notions about others. It is human nature.”
That was something he could relate to in a far different way. In some ways, it was another lifetime. That ragged child people had snubbed on a regular basis. The look of pure disdain in his father’s eyes the first time he’d seen him—people were judgmental first and some didn’t bother to ask questions later. They just assumed that with one glance they gained all the information they needed. Darcy at least had money to fall back on when he’d been misjudged. Jack had only his wits and willingness to do whatever it took to gain a better life. Pirating worked for the most part. He’d learned to stomach the harder parts of that life, but he hadn’t actually enjoyed it much. Jack moved another piece. Elizabeth swiftly captured one of his pawns. “Ah, I’ve earned a question.”
“So you have,” he agreed. “What would you like to know?”
“Hmm,” she made a noise. “I’m going to hold onto it until the end and ask all my questions at once.”
Jack didn’t like that idea at all. “That’s not what we agreed upon,” he said irritatably.
“It’s not what we didn’t either,” she said triumphantly. “It wasn’t specified.”
He opened his mouth to argue and thought better of it. So what if she held onto her questions like a bounty gathered in a pirate’s chest. It was her winning; she could do what she wanted with it. He moved another pawn. “You would consider Mr. Darcy an acceptable mate?”
She scrunched her nose. “I’m not Elizabeth Bennet, Your Grace, and Mr. Darcy is a fictional character.”
