Page 30 of Love Is A Draw (Check Mates #2)

O ne by one, the room had emptied until it felt as if only Greg and Gail remained. But people were watching them. The stillness had fractured. Gail pushed back from the chessboard, the echo of her chair scraping against the floor far too loud.

Greg strode to the door, voice clipped as he barked an order to one of the guards. “Find out where they’ve taken him and get my carriage ready so I can follow them when I finish this game.”

Her heart surged into her throat, and she clasped her chest with both hands. Victor.

“I promise to keep him safe,” Greg said.

“You use your title for the Jews,” Gail sounded as if questioning a miracle.

Greg shook his head. “I don’t use it for the Jews. By blood, I’m one of you.”

Gail gasped. She’d heard about baptized Jews. But one who was also an earl and fought for them in parliament was heroic.

“Don’t say anything. Just focus on the game, please. If you win, Gail, you bring us both closer to victory.” He sat slowly across from her, not as the Earl of Ashby, not even as a tournament director, but as a man who had carried a torch longer than most had dared to hold it.

The board between them gleamed under the sconces, each square reset, each piece waiting.

“It is an honor to play with the Black Knight.” Gail curtsied and took her position.

The air between them changed. It crackled with competition, and with something finer. Expectation. Respect.

And perhaps, a quiet kind of farewell.

Gail reached for her first pawn, fingers steady.

“You know”—a quiet smile played at the corners of Greg’s mouth—“I’ve spent years in Parliament arguing for moments like this.

For merit to matter. For brilliance to be seen, even when the room is full of men who refuse to look at women, at Jews, and at anyone who could surpass them with skill or wit. ”

She didn’t glance up. But her hand stopped. Rested on the pawn. “I know. I’ve heard the Pearlers quote you. Fave reads your speeches aloud like scripture. Rachel says it’s how he imagines what the future should sound like.”

Greg gave a soft huff of laughter. “Then you understand the Black Knight. This title isn’t just a title. It’s a challenge. It will come with strings. Expectations. Scrutiny. Some will call it undeserved. Others will call it dangerous.”

Gail’s eyes lifted slowly. Calm. Clear. “I’ve never been given anything without a cost. Not my safety. Not my education. Not my family.”

He nodded once, the weight of his years in that single motion. “Are you ready to bear it?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Only if I earn it.”

A pause.

Greg leaned back. “Good. Then let’s give you a chance.”

They played.

Not long. Not rushed.

Just a game—clean, elegant, and razor-sharp. Neither made mistakes. But Gail, with white, had chosen her opening. She set the tone. She guided the pace, like allowing the future to assert itself, one move at a time.

Greg didn’t hold back. He met every advance with calculated defense. He pressed when he saw an opening. He didn’t take her lightly.

Not once.

Check.

She moved.

Counter.

Another move.

Then—pause. Gail looked at the board.

Greg already knew. He leaned back with the slow, satisfied air of a man who had waited a very long time for something to be true. “You have a mate in two.”

She saw it too.

Her final move came without trembling, without doubt.

Checkmate.

A reverent silence followed.

Rachel Pearler emerged from the doorway with a curious look. She didn’t clap. She didn’t speak. But her eyes shone, proud and full. And next to her, Lady Hermy.

Gail nodded. Yes, I’m a woman and a Jew— The Black Knight .