Elizabeth fixed her eyes on the board, unwilling to look up as she felt her head spin. Is there some hidden message to me in those words? What had previously been light banter about the game had evolved into something else. Has our conversation all along been about us? He spoke with more gentleness than animosity, however, and she suddenly realized how confident he must have felt coming to her and expecting her to accept his suit. Of course he would have! How much more she comprehended now, and how much more ashamed she felt for the cruel words she lashed out at him that day.

“It took me quite a while to recover from that miscalculation,” Darcy added as he made his move. “It is always wise to be ready with another strategy if you find yourself faced with that situation.” Elizabeth found the courage to lift her eyes to him and noticed that he was now looking at Rosalyn.

Elizabeth quickly dropped her eyes back down to the board. Her heart beat wildly as she contemplated his meaning. Is his pursuit of Rosalyn a new strategy of his? She felt her cheeks warm and stared down at the board absently, finally taking her turn. Her insides tightened as she considered that he had every right to turn his affection toward Rosalyn.

Darcy quickly made another move. When she did glance up at him again, his eyes were back upon her. She wanted to look away, but she could not, feeling as though his eyes were communicating something more than words could do.

“So what are you going to do next, Elizabeth?” asked Rosalyn, who was, by good fortune, looking down at the board instead of up at them.

“Well… um… that is a good question, Rosalyn,” Elizabeth said, a tremble in her voice. She attempted to turn her full attention to the match, but her mind staunchly forbade her to think of anything save for the meaning of his words. She reached out and her fingers hovered over a knight. She drew it back when she saw it was shaking.

Elizabeth stared at the board a long time, her hands gripped tightly together under the table. She saw nothing but the individual pieces that were now scattered around the board. His words had so unsettled her that she could formulate no strategy in defence.

She finally moved another pawn, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly as she attempted to rein in her thoughts. She needed to say something to Mr. Darcy, but was unsure how to say it and whether he would even understand her meaning.

Very softly and slowly she said, “I recall a time when I, too, greatly misjudged a partner, and due to that misapprehension, I made a very grievous, thoughtless error.” She quickly lifted her eyes to Darcy and then looked back down. “I have only of late come to regard my response as insulting and offensive…” She swallowed hard, as her mouth was now dry. “…and I am very remorseful for my actions.”

Elizabeth’s heart pounded, and she could barely breathe, but she had admitted to him that she had realized how wrong she had been! Had he recognized it?

Darcy’s eyes remained fixed on the board, his chin resting on his fisted hand. She saw his jaw tighten and an eyebrow lift ever so slightly. He raised his eyes slowly, his face following shortly thereafter. A slight nod of his head gave Elizabeth the impression that he understood.

“This is proving to be quite an interesting game,” Hamilton spoke up, quite certain something of great import was being communicated between his cousin and Miss Bennet that had nothing to do with the game of chess. He looked over at Miss Matthews to see whether she had any expression of similar comprehension on her face. She did not.

“Watch out, Miss Bennet,” Hamilton exclaimed. Both Elizabeth and Darcy turned to face him. “He is getting ready to strike the final blow!”

“You underestimate Miss Bennet, Hamilton,” Darcy said softly. “I am sure she has some strategic moves planned.”

This time, when Elizabeth looked down at the board, she saw it. In four moves, one of her pawns had reached Mr. Darcy’s side of the board.

“Good for you!” exclaimed Hamilton. “Now we can be hopeful for at least a stalemate.”

“What happened?” asked Rosalyn. “What just happened?”

Darcy looked over at her, picking up a pawn. “The pawn is the most common of all the pieces on the chess board. As you can see, there are eight of them. But occasionally, one pawn, through some exceptional merit and proficiency, makes its way across the board and then can take on the higher qualities of another piece, for instance…” his eyes turned to Elizabeth as he said, “the queen.”

He slowly clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on the table. He then acknowledged her with a slight smile.

Elizabeth’s head swirled with a myriad of thoughts, and feelings of hope coursed through her that this time his words were meant as a compliment to her. While she was certainly not a commoner, she was considerably lower than he.

Within two moves, Darcy took her real queen with his rook. “You have sacrificed your queen, Miss Bennet.”

“Sometimes that must be done.”

Within two moves, Elizabeth had trapped Darcy’s king.

“It appears you have me, Miss Bennet. Congratulations.”

Elizabeth could not move, wondering again at the meaning of his words. “Thank you,” she said as she slowly took in a breath to calm herself. She stood up from the table, her heart pounding violently.

“You do not wish to play another? Give me another chance?” Elizabeth thought she heard a slight quaver in his voice.

“No, I fear not tonight.” She did not trust herself to remain in his presence one moment longer.

Rosalyn, who had been looking curiously back and forth between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy as they conversed, felt a slight stab of envy at their friendly banter. She determined that she must learn to play this game!

“Shall we play again tomorrow night then?” he asked, looking up with an expectant glimmer in his eyes.

“I am not altogether certain,” she said, feeling as though her knees might crumble at any moment. “I have plans to visit some friends of my aunt who live in Lambton, and I will be staying for dinner. I fear I might be returning late.”

Darcy skewed his mouth. “I see.” He turned to his cousin as his fingers drummed the table. “Hamilton? Shall we go at another match?”

“Oh, no! I shall not be made a fool of again. I see that even Miss Bennet is more proficient than I. Come, Miss Matthews, allow me to teach you the game, then perhaps I might have a slight chance to win.”

“I should like that very much!” she replied with enthusiasm.

Elizabeth stood up and bid everyone a good night. By now, the Goldsmiths had both departed to their room, leaving only Miss Darcy, who was reading.

Elizabeth walked over to her. “Good night, Miss Darcy. Thank you for a lovely day.”

“Miss Bennet,” Georgiana said merrily. “I do believe that my brother enjoyed his match with you. Our cousin does not play as well or as often, and when he visits, my brother does not feel as though he can play as strategically as he would like. His matches the past few nights could be described as fairly half-hearted, to say the least. Until yours tonight.”

“I am quite certain he was not playing his best. I know he allowed me some moves.”

“Perhaps,” replied Georgiana softly, “but I know he was enjoying himself, for he was smiling.”

“Smiling?” Elizabeth laughed nervously and turned her eyes toward him. She saw that he had taken up a book, but had not yet opened it. His eyes were turned toward them. Looking quickly back at Miss Darcy, she said, “Good night, Miss Darcy. Have a pleasant evening.”

As she walked to her room, she passed the library. She knew that sleep would not come any time soon, so she walked in, hoping to find something suitable to read. She returned to the area where earlier she had seen books of poetry. Her fingers trailed up and down the spines, reading the names of the authors until she found it. Cowper! She pulled it from the shelf and returned to her room, holding the book tightly to her heart.

Chapter 14

Once in her room and dressed in her nightdress, Elizabeth settled herself comfortably in the rocking chair in the corner of the room and draped a coverlet over her lap. She picked up the large volume of Cowper’s poems and opened it to the first page. She began to read but found it difficult, for her heart still pounded and her mind still reeled from the recent events of the evening.

Looking over at the small table next to her bed, she stood up and walked over to it, opening its one small drawer. She pulled out a book, and from underneath, she picked up several pieces of folded paper. Her recent letter from Jane was on one sheet, and the letter Mr. Darcy had written to her over a year ago consisted of two sheets of paper covered on both sides.

She brought the two letters over to her bed, propped up the pillow and reclined against it. Carefully unfolding them, she reread Jane’s letter first, going over the portion about Mr. Darcy’s visit and how amiable she and the Gardiners had found him. She could now read her sister’s words with nary a concern for Miss Darcy’s heartache, since hearing her account of what had transpired between the two. She also no longer felt concern that Mr. Darcy’s friendship with Mr. Bingley had been jeopardized by his and Jane’s engagement, as he had appeared truly happy for them when he offered her his congratulations the day of the treasure hunt.

When she finished reading Jane’s letter, she slowly turned to the other. She looked at the meticulous handwriting, and knowing who it was from and all that had transpired between them brought about a wave of fluttering deep within her.