Ginny occupied her own little table. She had only herself to blame for the agony of anticipation that made her incapable of doing anything but staring at the page of the book she’d brought down to the sitting room with her. The words had gone blurry.
She inwardly waged a battle over what she would do if he summoned her.
But she thought she already knew. There was only one thing she wanted. And only one way to get it.
Unbeknownst to Ginny, inside Gabriel Marchand, who as usual wasn’t shy about staring at her, a battle over a decision had already been concluded. He had brought correspondence into the room and was apparently writing a letter at a little table.
Just as Mrs. Peck entered the sitting room holding Daniel by the hand, Dot at last, at long, long last, moved that pawn.
Mr. Delacorte sighed heavily. He made atskingsound as his black queen sailed confidently across the diagonal to take Dot’s rook. “Dot, do you remember what I told you about that particular pawn? You left your rook exposed, and my queen was waitingrightthere to take it. A better move might have been—”
But Dot was already clopping her knight over to the F3 square. She sat back and gave a gleeful clap. “Ha! Now your queen is in jail!”
Delacorte froze.
He stared at the board.
On the back rank, courtesy of the positions of two knights, a few pawns, and a bishop, his queen was well and truly trapped.
Lord Bolt, sitting at a table with Captain Hardy, leaned over and gave a low whistle. “Well. Look at that. She got you. You aren’t getting out of that one. Not with your queen, anyway.”
This was one of the most dire things that could happen in a chess game, everyone knew.
Delacorte reeled. “Dot... did you... did youplanthat? Have you been planning that? Did you do that on purpose?”
His voice had gone a little croaky. Surely Dot hadn’t been silently planning atactic?
“Well, it all began when Adolfo decided to make the ultimate sacrifice,” Dot explained.
“Who thebloo—” Mr. Delacorte darted a glance at the Epithet Jar. “Who is Adolfo?”
“The rook! He decided to sacrifice himself! That way, Sir Horatio, her true love, could be the one who heroically trapped your queen. She can’t get out now. She’s in jail!”
“Yes, we all see that,” Delacorte said tensely. “Horatio is...”
“This knight.” She pointed to the knight that had sealed off his queen’s escape from the back rank. “He yearns for her, but she’s married to Theodore the Second.”
“Is Theodore the king?” Despite herself, Ginny was invested in this story.
“Yes!” Dot was thrilled with Ginny’s insight. “You see it, too?” She looked triumphantly at Mr. Delacorte, feeling vindicated. “And little Peter helped.” She pointed at the pawn.
“And her bishop is clearly there to administer last rites to your queen, Delacorte,” Captain Hardy contributed.
Mr. Delacorte shot him a filthy look, and Captain Hardy grinned.
“Perhaps you should name your pieces, too, Mr. Delacorte,”Dot said kindly. “That way you might be more careful with them.”
He opened his mouth.
Then closed it again.
“How badly do you want to curse right now?” Lucien asked him.
“SHITE!” Daniel Peck bellowed.
Delacorte and Dot jumped so violently that the chess pieces keeled over and rolled, as if in agony. They hadn’t noticed Daniel creeping up to the table.
Everyone in the room gave a start.