Wed at Leisure by Sabrina Darby

her mother, Henrietta, Miss Smith, and Miss Norman, the previous governess—to care about rank and about making the best match possible. Lindley was not the best, but he was very good. And she rather liked him.
    If only Peter hadn’t called a truce.
    And then infuriated her again.
    “Are you as skilled at chess as your sister?” Lord Lindley asked Bianca. It was the third question he had asked that had referenced Kate.
    She refrained from saying that Bianca would never win at chess until the day the board was populated with all her favorite characters from novels.
    “No. I cannot claim the skill,” Bianca said. “Do you play, my lord?”
    “I do.”
    “Have you played with Kate?”
    “I have not yet had the pleasure.” He sounded intrigued, as if he could not wait to kick Stanbury out of the chair and take his place. Looking at the board, Stanbury was about to kick himself out with his careless moves in any event. “But I am gaining the advantage of studying her technique.”
    Kate bit the inside of her cheek. Contemplated shifting her technique just to throw him off, and then decided against it and moved her pawn as she had initially intended. If he were that observant, that brilliant, she wanted to witness him in action. Perhaps it would finally turn her regard for him into love.
    “Surely fifteen minutes cannot reveal that much,” Bianca said.
    Dislodge the image of Peter, which disgustingly remained in her mind.
    “When one watches closely, a minute can reveal all.”
    If only she had Lindley’s skill and could understand Peter’s motivation. Know why he paid her such attention, as if he courted her, when their history . . .
    “Do you watch closely, my lord?”
    Stanbury’s fingers hovered above his queen. Kate tried not to wince, to show any expression at all. His hand shifted infinitesimally and she knew, instantly, what he intended. Why could she understand so clearly when it came to chess, but when it came to people, to Bianca—
    “I try to, Miss Bianca.”
    —to Peter, to her mother—
    “Lord Lindley!” Kate cried, trying to dispel her thoughts. “Do tell Mr. Stanbury that there are better uses for his pawn than what he is about to do.”
    Without hesitation, Lindley met Kate’s desperate gaze. His pale eyes assessed her. Then he nodded and shifted that attention to the board. She smiled, although inside she felt far from happy. But Lindley was good for her. Calming.
    She glanced at Bianca. Her sister seemed suddenly illuminated and radiant. Beautiful in a different way from her usual golden, Renaissance beauty.
    “Oh no, Lindley,” Stanbury objected. “If I am to lose to Miss Mansfield yet again, I wish to do so on my own merits. No need to drag you into the mess.” And that was exactly why Kate had invited George Stanbury. He was not remotely a match for her, despite being a perfectly good match for any other woman in her situation, but he was good-natured and always knew the right thing to say. This last was a skill Kate admired as she had to work hard to ensure that she never misspoke.
    It had been quite a shock to arrive in London and learn that the reputation she’d developed in Watersham, as unfair as it was, had followed her. She’d spent a good portion of her first Season making certain that she had a new reputation. And her efforts had paid off.
    “You needn’t lose,” Kate said with a smile. “It is simply that winning is not your focus.”
    “You wound me, Miss Mansfield.”
    “I meant it as a compliment.”
    “Hardly,” Bianca said, and Kate looked to her in surprise. Her sister had been her usual reticent self throughout the afternoon. Until now. “Kate believes in winning above all else.”
    For a moment Kate was dumbfounded, unsure of her sister’s meaning. But then . . . the way Bianca had been about the dress, and how she avoided her these last few days, and of course, the fact that she hadn’t responded to any of Kate’s letters in weeks. Was Peter