His fingers feathered under her chin to tilt her face toward the lamplight as his thumb smoothed along her cheek. “A scar.”
She tried to offer a coy smile. “You’re not supposed to mention such things.”
She felt the pressure of his fingers tightening on her chin even before his face stiffened with anger. “What is this?”
“Nothing. A riding accident. There was a mud slide. I was lucky,” she added cheerily. “I escaped with only cuts and bruises.” Meeting his gaze unflinchingly, she watched his worried anger turn to sympathy.
“I hear India can be dangerous.”
“Yes.”
His fingers fell away from her skin. “Well, I’m glad you’re back in safe, staid England then.”
“Not so glad as I am.” She reached distractedly for her glass only to find it empty.
“Shall I open another bottle?”
“No. No, I’ve had enough.”
Nodding, Aidan stood and stretched, drawing her eyes up the long line of his body. She suppressed a sigh and looked away from the beautiful sight of him.
“I’ve brought you something.”
He opened the basket he’d brought from the inn and withdrew a flat, square package.
“What is it? Some other remnant I left behind in England?”
“Open it.”
Surprised and wary, Kate untied the string and folded back the paper to find a plain wooden box beneath the wrappings. When she flipped the small latch of the walnut box and lifted the lid, she found only more wood. Truly puzzled now, she worked the piece of wood up and out of the box, finally spying the chess pieces cradled in a nest of cloth.
“A chess set! Thank you.”
“The piece you’re holding folds out into a board.”
She opened the board, marveling at the hidden hinges that held the four squares of wood together. It was a simple set otherwise, the pieces basic and painted.
“You told me once that you played with your grandfather.”
“I did. And thank you, but you shouldn’t have bought me anything.” Her hands belied the words, stroking the smooth edge of the white queen.
“It was purely selfish. I’m hoping you’ll consent to play with me. We never had a chance before.”
She looked around the small, worn room. He shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t have invited him in. Widow or married woman, it wasn’t right. But her old nature was returning. The rebellious soul that had gotten her into trouble so many times.
Aidan only wanted to be friends, after all. There was no chance of more, not with the lie of her marriage sitting between them. Not with the bloody mess she’d left behind.
“Of course,” she finally said.
He smiled as she began to clear the table. “I don’t play well,” he warned as he unpacked the pieces.
“I do.” Warming at the smooth stroke of his laugh, she surprised herself by smiling at the pleasant feeling.
Just friends, she reminded herself sternly, if with little enthusiasm.
After he’d set the last piece on the board, Aidan opened another bottle and refilled the wineglasses. At her raised eyebrow, he shrugged and took his seat. “It’s thirsty work getting trounced.”
The game was over in thirty minutes.