A few minutes must have marched by, though she hadn’t cared to mark them. Then Holmes appeared at her side with a softly cleared throat. “Beg your pardon, Miss De Wilde.” Dot must have filled him in on her last name. “I’m going to see Miss Elton home. And don’t worry.” He pitched his voice low. “I’ll find a way to bow out of your dinner party.”

“Nonsense. Come.” Eyes still on the board, she reached into her handbag and pulled out the scarf that was taking up much of the space inside. “My mother knitted this for you.” Maman hadn’t known it, but it was nonetheless true. “And if you meet me back here in an hour, I’ll take you to my brother’s house. He’ll ensure you have the proper attire for this party, if that’s your concern.”

“Very kind, miss, but I oughtn’t . . .”

She looked over, up, into his eyes. “We all fall on hard times, Mr. Holmes. The kindness of a stranger saved my life once, and my mother’s. Please. Let me do for you just a portion of what she did for us. It is a small enough gesture. Lukas will not miss one suit of clothes.”

Though one suit of clothes wouldn’t solve this man’s ultimate problem either. The missing variable in his equation was surely equal to a larger number than that. But it could help. Could perhaps put his feet—organic and artificial both—on a path toward restoration.

She watched him wrestle with his pride though. It took the form of his hands twisting in the knitted length he still held. He didn’t want to take it, any of it. Didn’t want to need to. But he also apparently didn’t want to go on as he had been. He shoved the scarf into his pocket—leaving one end trailing out—and nodded. “Anything you need me to do, miss, you just ask. Anything at all.”

Williams drew her attention back to the board when he slid a black stone to a new position. One not entirely stupid.

Margot pursed her lips and considered her next move. “Very well. At the moment, I need you to see my friend safely home, if you would.”

Even without looking, she could see his smile. “A real hardship, that, but I’ll manage it. And be back here in an hour.” He moved half a step but then stopped. “Will you be all right here alone?”

It was her own park in her own neighborhood. Moreover, she didn’t intend to move for the next hour. “We will be quite busy until you return. Isn’t that right, sir?”

Her shaggy-haired opponent steepled his hands, rested his chin against them, and stared at the board with bright eyes. His grunt this time clearly said, Your move.

She slid a white stone to a better position.