Chapter Seven
Adam admitted the truth to himself. He had wanted to kiss her in the hayloft. Forsooth, he wanted to kiss her now. She was sweet and spirited and kind, a balm to his troubled soul.
She was also the daughter of an earl.
He chanted Callum’s name inside his head like a mantra, to ensure he did not forget why he was here.
“I will not take no for an answer,” Esme declared, raising her eyebrows in a challenge. Her touch at his elbow sent frissons of awareness all the way through him.
Does she know how alluring she is?
He cleared his throat. “I am not at Ember Hall in the capacity of a visitor, milady. I am here to guard you.”
For a moment, he thought she might argue the point, but the lady merely shrugged. The dark-colored cloak she was wearing slipped further over her shoulders, revealing the patterned sleeves of an intricately sewn gown.
Another reminder of the difference in their status.
Adam thought of the plain cotton tunic he had changed into after bathing.
It had once been a deep blue but had faded with age and was threadbare in patches.
Not because he was without the means to dress well, but because he put little store by his appearance.
“You are here to keep me safe.” She tilted her head upright, looking at him mischievously. “Mind, body, and soul.”
“That is correct.”
She leaned closer. “I stand to lose my mind entirely if I do not have the company of someone other than a cat.” As one, they both glanced down at Felicity who was weaving about their feet. “You must play a game of chess with me, Adam. To keep my spirits high.”
Her logic was hard to counter. Especially when he wanted to agree with her.
“As you wish, milady. But I can only play one game.”
“I also wish for you to stop addressing me as milady.” Esme threw him a look over her shoulder as she led the way into the great hall.
“If memory serves me right, I have already made this request. And if you are here as my servant, rather than my friend, I must insist that you adhere to my requests.”
He breathed out sharply. Aye, he had been explicitly—and consciously—going against her invitation. But if he addressed this fine lady only by her given name, yet another barrier between them would begin to crumble.
“Here we are.” Esme paused by the flickering fire. “We need to pull up those two chairs and lift this table between them.”
Without hesitating, he did as he was bid. Any physical activity helped quieten the warring voices in his head. Moving the heavy furniture caused his heart rate to increase; at least, that was what he told himself.
Esme slipped off her cloak and draped it on the window seat, talking softly to Felicity who promptly jumped onto the cloak and curled up to go to sleep. Esme bent down gracefully and extracted a carved wooden box from a large trunk.
“I fetched this from the solar yesterday.” Her eyes danced. “In the hope that we might play.”
Adam stood awkwardly by the nearest chair, waiting for Esme to sit down so that he might do the same. But instead, Esme waltzed over to the hearth and pulled on the bell rope.
Finally, she came to join him, sinking gracefully into a tapestried chair and crossing her ankles.
“Will you set the game up?”
He took the box from her, careful to ensure his fingers did not brush against hers.
The box doubled as the board, straightening out into a level surface once the pieces had been safely extracted.
He lined up them up at one side of the table, noting the exquisite detail in the carving and the smoothness of the wood.
He was not accustomed to such beauty.
“Would you care to be black or white?” he asked, keeping his eyes trained on the board.
“You choose.” Esme was nonchalant. “I find it makes very little difference.” He felt, rather than saw, the warmth of her smile. “Ah, Jennifer. Thank you. Please could you bring us some wine?”
Wine.
Adam knew he was walking a path that led directly to danger, but he could not seem to alter it.
I do not want to alter it.
He set up the board, so the white pieces were before Esme, allowing her to make the first move. She put very little thought to the game, gazing languidly at the fire and then making space on the table for two goblets when Jennifer appeared with the tray.
This will not take long, Adam told himself. He could decently retire to his chamber before the wine, however fine, muddled his thinking further.
He studied the board as he took a long mouthful, surprised to find that Esme had all but backed him into a corner. His eyes widened as he considered this. Was it a deliberate strategy or an accident?
Esme was now examining a row of pearl buttons at the cuff of here sleeve.
Accident, he decided.
But he had to put down his goblet and think deeply before executing his next move.
Esme seemed hardly to notice his deliberations. She moved her knight and captured his rook with a playful smile.
“Luck is with me, this night.”
He eyed her speculatively. “A very good move, milady.”
“Esme.” She held his gaze and frowned.
“Esme.” His cheeks were warm, from the fire and the wine and the beautiful young woman sitting so close he could feel her breath as she leaned over the board.
He took a while to decide on his next move. There were many ways he might win, but he was enjoying the gameplay. No matter how much he chanted the name Callum in his head, he could not bring himself to wind things up promptly.
Besides, Callum was a man who appreciated the complex strategies of chess. He and Adam had played many an interesting game; first at Egremont House and latterly at Kielder Castle, before Callum married Frida.
Callum was a worthy opponent, but Adam was beginning to think that Esme was almost his equal.
Still, he had espied a route to success. A sneaky one, that the lady did not notice until it was too late.
“Well done.” She clapped her hands as he toppled her King.
With his innate competitive spirit satisfied, a new thought occurred to him. Mayhap he should have allowed Esme to win? But the lady did not seem upset. Indeed, she gathered up the remaining pieces with great equanimity.
“I see I have a lot to learn from you, Adam,” she declared. “We must play again so that I can study your technique.”
Knowledge slid into him, like a knife through butter. He sat back and rubbed at the stubble on his chin.
“Did you allow me to win?”
A frown darted across her brow. “Most certainly, I did not.” She cleared her throat, positioning her chess pieces back in the box. “I am a de Neville, Adam. Winning is in our blood.”
He took another mouthful of wine and contemplated this.
“I ask again.” He folded his hands and fixed her with a firm expression. “Esme, did you allow me to win.”
This time a peal of laughter escaped her. “Only at the very end,” she admitted. “You were so pleased with your strategy; I could not bring myself to disappoint you. And it was a very clever set of moves.” She held up a finger, as if disallowing any complaint.
But Adam was sorely vexed. “Never has this happened to me before. Not even when I was a child of ten.”
Esme closed the box neatly. “Well, there is a first time for everything.”
“I cannot believe it.” He drummed his fingers on the table, tempted to demand a rematch.
Esme’s lips were working to repress a smile. “I see how this vexes you and I apologize for it. In truth, I did not suspect you would catch me out.”
He watched her closely. “You mean you have done this before.”
She nodded once, having the grace to look abashed. “I am the youngest of five siblings. Two of which are brothers. Very competitive brothers.” She paused for emphasis. “I learned at a young age that ofttimes it was easier to let them win, than to deal with the sulking when they did not.”
He could not help but admire this. “And they have never found you out?”
Esme put her head to one side. “I love my brothers dearly, both of them, despite their faults.” She raised her eyebrows comically. “Tristan and Jonah are quick-witted and smart. They have never doubted their ability to win.”
He leaned closer, imitating her air of conspiracy. “That is a failing of sorts.”
“Indeed, it is.” She nodded seriously, before laughing once again. “But you caught me out, Adam. Clearly, you are a man without failings.”
“I would not make that claim.”
But he took another mouthful of wine, rather than allow his aggrieved mind to begin listing them.
“There is more expected of brothers than sisters.” Esme gazed into the fire, oblivious of the pretty picture she made, with her golden hair gleaming in the candlelight. “Girls do not have to be quick-witted and smart. They do not have to win. They merely have to smile obediently.”
Adam recalled the way Esme had argued her cause for remaining at Ember Hall. “You will forgive me for asking this, but is obedience truly a quality that your family hold dear?”
“To a point, aye.” Her expression grew serious.
“But I know I have gotten away with a great deal in life, mainly because I am the daughter of a very wealthy man.” She met his gaze with something like defiance sparking in her blue eyes.
“Perchance that is the quality most sought in a woman, even over obedience.”
He had not anticipated such philosophy from one so young and seemingly unburdened.
“Coin?” he clarified.
She nodded. “I have oft thought how much simpler my life would be without it.”
He could not answer this. Not without remembering another young woman with a radiant smile, whose family’s lack of coin had cost her dearly.
Instead, he made his voice light. “I am but a warrior, who makes his living with his sword. But I have oft thought that the offspring of wealthy men can do much as they please.”
He knew this was not entirely true. Rory Baine had once been a wealthy man, but young Callum had been twisted several ways by the dictates of familial responsibility.