She couldn’t relax, because this was too unfortunate a situation for anyone to be relaxed, and the way out of it was either a kiss at wandpoint or being discovered alone and a little too close in the greenhouse by someone, possibly a gossipy stranger, and Jemima was not keen on either option.

Although his smile had been a little sweet, hadn’t it? And he hadn’t surged forwards and kissed her yet. That was nice.

In fact, he wasn’t even looking at her anymore, which made Jemima feel so much more at ease already, because maybe he was as nervous as she was, and clearly he wasn’t going to take advantage of her. She had opened her own mouth to possibly say something, because stretching silences did tend to agitate her, but he had got out the words first –

Jemima tried to stifle the snort before it came out of her nose, which she only half-managed and which was not polite or attractive at all, but her mouth curled into a guilty-apologetic-amused smile all the same, nibbling on her bottom lip to stop it spreading any wider. “Chess!” she echoed gratefully. “I’ve tried to play but couldn’t remember all the rules for the pieces, which way the knights can go and all sorts,” she confessed, words spilling out without inhibition on a topic that she had never really considered caring about before. “That’s, um, that’s a clever pursuit though, I’m sure, and very – noble.” Noble? She pulled a face at her nonsense, relieved if he still wasn’t looking at her. “But not if you’re too busy – I suppose you have a proper career to contend with already?” Chess, she considered, was perhaps better suited to schoolboys and gentlemen of leisure.

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