Chapter 3

Charlotte wiggled her fingers above the bishop, considering her next move. She pursed her lips, pushing them this way and that.

"Take your turn," Chelsea pleaded. "I've been waiting forever."

Charlotte looked up at her through her lashes. "It's only been a moment, not forever. Don't be so impatient!"

Chelsea huffed and fell back against the wooden frame of the chair, crossing her arms.

"And now you just seem petulant," Charlotte added as she picked up the bishop and moved it two squares diagonally across the board. "There? Happy now?"

Chelsea sat up again and examined the board. She picked up a pawn, shifted it forward one space, then returned to her slouching. She never had as much patience or forethought for games such as chess yet was always unhappy when Charlotte consistently won. Charlotte didn't mind. She continued playing her best as she always would. She wiggled her fingers over the board again, trying to decide what to do next.

"It's so lovely here, isn't it?" Chelsea said, looking around the room. She smiled a simple smile, full of peace and happiness. "I've always adored Father's country seat."

Charlotte glanced up at her then murmured in agreement. She picked up her bishop again and knocked Chelsea's pawn from the board.

"It's certainly very different to the hectic ways of London. I must admit, I'm rather enjoying the quieter life, though I suspect I'd be bored of it after a time."

Chelsea shifted another piece on the board, not truly caring where it went. "Can you believe we've been in Hampshire for two weeks already, though? It has positively flown by."

"Thank you for inviting me," Charlotte said. She finally looked up from the board and smiled properly at Chelsea. She was incredibly grateful to her for getting her out of London. The Hurtle family had done so very much for her since her mother's death, and they meant the world to her. While nothing had been wrong with her life as such, nothing had felt quite right either, and a change of scenery was doing wonders for her constitution.

"I am glad to have you here. I cannot imagine dealing with my mother's fussing if you were not present. We would end up with red flowers and red ribbons at the wedding. Can you imagine!"

"Peach is a much better option," Charlotte replied with a smile. "When are your parents arriving? I thought they would already be here."

"Father's been held up by some business or other, and of course Mother couldn't possibly travel without him—but that just means we get to enjoy ourselves a little before they arrive!"

She returned her attention to the board. Though beating Chelsea was always easy, she always liked to test her own skill. She often wondered what it would be like to play against a man, for she had only done so with her uncle, Elliot, and she was certain he let her win because she was a ‘mere' woman. She wanted to pit her intelligence against a worthy opponent, and yet her apparently fairer sex meant she never got the opportunity.

She imagined a man's hand, large and rough from work, reaching out across the chess board to cup her cheek. She would send the board flying across the room to straddle his lap as she'd read about in the novels she'd kept hidden beneath her pillow lest Lydia find them. She would shower him with kisses, her tongue running across the flesh of his neck. She would nuzzle into his chest, caressing the thick muscles and—

"I quite agree," Chelsea said, interrupting her fantasy.

"Agree with what?" Charlotte said, blinking as she came back to herself.

Chelsea snorted with laughter. "That we get to enjoy ourselves a little before my parents arrive, silly! I didn't realize chess required quite so much of your attention."

Charlotte's cheeks flushed, but she lowered her head, hoping Chelsea would not notice.

Chess. Think of the chess.