Queen of my Hart - Emily Royal Page 0,35
father’s pawn after all, and this must be his first move.
But what game was he playing?
***
“You seem out of sorts, Hart,” Oliver Peyton said as a footman arrived, brandishing a tray and two glasses.
Dexter plucked a glass off the tray. Before he’d taken a sip, Peyton drained half his glass and nodded to the footman to fetch another.
“I hope I won’t have to carry you home,” Dexter said.
“Am I not permitted a celebration?” Peyton asked. “I’ve secured us the Westbury account. That family’s banked with Coutts for over fifty years.”
The Westbury account was a boon, and it increased the chances of other notable families moving their accounts to the Hart Bank. Oliver Peyton excelled at the personal side of banking—maintaining relationships with the account holders and wooing clients. And Dexter would be the first person to admit that he lacked Peyton’s congeniality.
“You don’t seem too thrilled,” Peyton said. “Anything the matter?”
“I have been summoned to the country,” Dexter said.
“Who by?”
“My wife wrote the letter,” Dexter replied, “but I suspect it was dictated by another.”
“What do you mean?”
“She writes to tell me that Lord Alderley will be visiting ‘in order to further family relations’—whatever the hell that means.”
“It means your father-in-law is in need of cash,” Peyton said.
Dexter snorted. “There’s hope for you yet, Peyton, if you’re capable of such healthy cynicism.”
“Is he bringing Elizabeth with him?” Peyton asked.
“It would appear so,” Dexter said. “Having moved his pawn to my end of the board, he’s bringing his queen into play.”
The footman reappeared with another glass, and Peyton took it.
“Are you having another, Hart?”
Dexter shook his head. “I need a clear head. I leave at dawn.”
“You’re going?”
“I must engage with Alderley at some point,” Dexter said. “Where better than on my territory? Alderley may believe he has the upper hand, but a player can overestimate the effectiveness of his pieces.”
“And you think he intends to use both daughters against you?”
“He’ll fail,” Dexter replied. “Alderley may think he has control of the board, but I can just as easily use his pieces against him.”
“How long will you be away?” Peyton asked.
“A fortnight.”
“And you trust me not to run the bank into the ground while you’re battling your father-in-law?”
“You can view this as a test of your prowess, Peyton,” Dexter said, “and I want you to join me in a week to report on activities.”
“Naturally,” Peyton said, grinning. “You could never relinquish control for too long. Is there anything, in particular, you wish me to report on?”
“Keep an eye on the MacGregor account,” Dexter said.
“Your brother-in-law’s whisky business?”
“The very same. The next installment on the loan is due in a few days. Just because I’m related to the fellow, I’ve no intention of showing leniency if the payment is late.”
“Of course not,” Peyton said. “I know enough about you to understand that family loyalty won’t rank above a contractual obligation.”
A tall gentleman hailed them on his way out of the clubroom.
“Peyton!” he said. “I didn’t realize you were here.”
“Good to see you,” Peyton said. He turned to Dexter. “Hart, you know Mr. Young, don’t you? Founding member of the Mayfair Gentlemen’s Chess Club.”
Dexter nodded.
“Are you playing at Durrants tonight, Peyton?” the gentleman asked. “Simpkins has a new opening gambit he wants to try out on you. He says it guarantees checkmate in six moves.”
“It probably does,” Peyton replied, “but only if his opponent is either in his cups or has sustained a blow to the head. I suppose I could use it as a reference for my book. I could have a chapter at the end entitled ‘checkmate for dimwits’ and dedicate it to Simpkins.”
The gentleman laughed and took his leave. Peyton finished his drink and glanced at the longcase clock by the door.
“I’d better be going.”
“You’re writing a book?” Dexter asked.
“On chess strategy,” Peyton replied. “I want to focus on the mid-part of the game. Too many books cover the opening gambits and the endgame. But the real skill is in bringing your pieces together after the first few moves, once you’ve begun to understand your opponent’s style, and in preparation for the final stages of the game.”
“I wish you luck.”
Peyton laughed. “You’ll need more luck than I, dealing with your in-laws.”
“Luck won’t come into it,” Dexter said. “Alderley is a weak opponent. His weakness lies in his transparency. He might have fooled me once, but I won’t make the same mistake again.”
“You might enjoy your visit,” Peyton said. “You’re paying enough to rent the place, so you should reap the benefit and