His Lady Mistress

Elizabeth Rolls175‘Verity, I understand your father was Max’s Colonel,’ saidRichard.Relieved, Verity nodded. Anything was better than explainingto Max why she no longer had a birthday.‘He must have been quite a fellow to keep Max in order.Max always said what a fine officer he was. I’m sorry I nevermet him. Not to mention thank him for saving Max’s life—’‘Stubble it, Ricky.’ Max’s growl barely penetrated as Verityfroze, slowly, from the inside out as the wound deepwithin cracked wider, leaching cold...guilt...anger...and bittershame, slicing like a jagged, icy knife.Her father had saved Max’s life. And she had destroyed,then taken, his. Because of her birthday. Somehow she returnedan answer—what, she had no idea. It was hard enoughholding her voice steady, emotionless, without listening towhat she said as well. Embarrassment at her rudenessscorched her cheeks.Richard continued as though he hadn’t noticed. ‘And Maxalways said your father could wipe him off the chessboard.Tell me, did he teach you?’Shaking inwardly, Verity assented.‘Excellent,’ said Richard. ‘You can give me a game sometime, then.’‘I...I...yes, of...of course.’Surely she could play chess without remembering her father?Without remembering those dreadful games just afterhis return, when he was still making an effort to hold himselftogether, when he could still bear to look at her. Just. Beforehe would suddenly sweep the pieces from the board and walkaway.She gripped her hands together to still their shaking. Richardwas talking cheerfully about chess; gradually her turmoilsteadied and she looked up.Max’s bright eyes blazed into her, a frown knotting hisbrow. His mouth looked set, hard, as though she had angeredhim again. The icy knife twisted cruelly. If he knew what she