And so piece by piece he revealed all the players and set them in play on the battlefield. Leading her through their first game, he took time with each turn to explain all her options, which moves she could make with which men, but he did not advise her. The choice was her own, and he either sat back in approval or with a good-natured grin captured the piece that she’d placed into jeopardy.

Sophia tried to learn from each mistake, and though the colonel won as she’d suspected that he would, she felt a sense of triumph that she’d given him some semblance of a battle. And her pride grew greater when the colonel said, “Ye did uncommonly well, lass. Did I not say ye had the brain for it?”

“I like the game.”

“Aye, so I see.” He smiled at her. “We’ve time for yet another afore supper, if ye like.”

Her skill improved with every day.

“She’ll have you beaten, Colonel” was the earl’s opinion as he watched them idly from his reading chair one afternoon.

“Aye, ye might be right, at that.” With steepled fingers, Colonel Graeme eyed the board and whistled lightly through his teeth. He took his time. The piece he finally moved seemed, to Sophia, a mistake because it left a weakness in his ranks that she could then attack. But when she took advantage of the opening, she saw that the mistake had been her own, as Colonel Graeme slid his bishop silently across the board and told her, “Check.”

She had not seen it coming, and she stared in disbelief now at the bishop sitting poised to take her king. To her dismayed expression, Colonel Graeme said, “Ye have to watch the whole field, lass, and use your wits afore your weapons. When ye saw me move that knight, your first thought was to take the rook that I’d left unprotected, was it not? And so most soldiers who are new to battle think their first directive is to take the ground, to run against the enemy and do him damage where they can.”

“And is it not?”

He shook his head. “Not always, no. In war, as in the game of chess, ye also must defend your king.” His smile was wise, forgiving of her youth and inexperience. “No battle can be called a victory if the king is lost.”

Sophia gave a nod to show she understood, her frowning gaze directed at the board. She saw no move that she could make to bring her own king out of danger, yet she knew there must be one because the colonel had not told her “checkmate,” merely “check.” Her stubborn concentration did not waver till the countess came in search of them.

The older woman’s face was set in firm lines as she told her son, “We have another visitor, and one who does not sit well in my favor. He has come to us with letters from the Earl of Marischal, but there is something in his aspect which I do not trust.”