He grinned and sidestepped the chair, trapping her between him and the table. He didn’t draw too close, but even so. Even so. “Of course you have. I like you, don’t I? What could be a more accurate proof that I’m smart?”

She felt as though she’d just sprinted up a flight of stairs. And had absolutely no idea how to parry that. So she turned to the game board. “I don’t have the game. This is the first set I’ve actually seen in England.”

“So teach me on this one. It’s out here, isn’t it? One doesn’t leave a board in public if one minds it being played. I’m sure you could return everything to its current position when we were through.”

She could. And the idea of sitting across from him for hours, strategizing and counter-strategizing, was an appealing one. She’d learn much about him through a game of Go. The way he thought, whether he would sacrifice one stone for another.

She touched a finger to a white stone and slid it into her chosen play in this game. “All right. I don’t imagine we have time for the lesson today. Dot won’t want to wait dinner that long. But perhaps the next time it’s set up.”

“It’s a date.”

No, that wasn’t what she meant. She opened her mouth to say so, then jumped when his hand brushed against the small of her back. There was no good reason to do so—it was a move that her brother made all the time, as did Hall and Barclay. Completely innocent. Gentlemanly. So why did it feel so new?

He was smiling. Probably because he knew well why she jumped. “Ready, then?”

No. Not nearly. But he was only talking about dinner with his sister. Not dates or romance or anything else. Careful not to meet his gaze lest he see in her eyes what a muddle he’d made of her, she turned back toward the walking path and drew in a long breath. In two beats, out two beats. Count the bricks. Measure the steps. Focus on the mathematics of the walk, not on the man beside her.

Das Gespenst muttered a curse under his breath and kept his back against the tree for a full minute after their voices faded into the sounds of the city. Only then did he dare to peek around the massive trunk.

That had been close. Too close. Curse that man for his instincts—he’d quite obviously been searching the park the moment he stepped foot in it, and Das Gespenst had barely had time to move from his casual lounge on a bench to the cover of the tree.

The man was too observant. And had kept staring right at the tree where he’d hid—obvious from the way his voice traveled.