Page 18 of The Gambler Wagers Her Baron

If there were anything Payton knew, it was that every circumstance was only temporary and open to change. At the moment, she was crouched in the shrubs in London’s finest neighborhood. But tomorrow would be a new day with new experiences. Not long ago, she’d been lorded over by her eldest sister with no freedom to do what she desired, and no ability to be the woman she longed to be. Marce was to be admired for her dedication to her siblings. However, her way of showing her love left much to be desired. If Payton needed proof of all she believed, she needn’t look any further than her own family. Both of her sisters had accomplished exactly what they wanted with no help from their eldest sister.

Judith had been apprehended as a thief by the night watchmen only a few years prior. Now, she was wedded to Cartwright. Samantha had been labeled a ladybird by the London gossips, and now she was a marchioness. Even gaining the position as a governess in the baron’s home was a huge step up for the illegitimate daughter of a madame and a lowly country blacksmith.

Not that Payton knew much about her father besides his name, and how he earned his living.

Her own mother had changed her circumstances for the better after her husband had died, and she’d been cast out of her home with two small children: Garrett and Marce. In the end, she’d had a fine home and five children who loved her dearly.

The clopping of hooves and the turning of carriage wheels sounded in the opposite direction of the baron’s home. The familiar creak and groan of Craven House’s neglected conveyance was a sweet melody to Payton’s ears—her freezing ears. She said a quick thank you to whoever was watching over her as she leapt from the bushes, gathered her skirts, and sprinted across the street, her mask hidden in the generous folds of her gown.

Before the driver had even pulled the coach to a complete halt, Payton opened the door and threw herself inside.

“Go, go!” she called, slinking to the carriage floor.

“Right away, Miss Payton.” Mr. Curtis’s forehead scrunched in confusion. He’d worked for the women of Craven House since long before Payton was born and knew it was better to act first and question later—at least when it came to the sometimes unseemly requests of Payton and her siblings. “Hope’n ye didna wait too long for me. Blimey cold out an’ all.”

“Shhhh,” she hissed as they pulled past Ashford Hall and continued down the street to the next corner before making their way back to the main road.

Once they reached Regent Street, Payton was able to ease up onto the seat. There was little traffic this time of the early morning, but they’d traveled far enough from Hanover Square that she no longer feared being noticed.

With all her savings gone, Payton couldn’t jeopardize losing her position as a governess by bringing any scandal to her name. It had taken her weeks to collect the measly amount of coin.

Payton must keep her head down, work diligently to please the baron and his children, and only accept a card challenge when she knew she could win. If she held to those promises, she’d one day find herself in exactly the place she longed to be.

The children didn’t have to accept her, nor did she have to be particularly fond of them—or their father. But she did need the position.

Chapter 7

After a day off spent alone at Craven House—sleeping in a bed that no longer felt like her own—Payton returned to her position. She’d never thought that seeking her independence from Marce meant losing her sense of home and feeling like a stranger in two houses.

Ashford Hall was silent, every footfall echoing in the abandoned hallways. After being greeted by Mr. Brown upon her arrival, she’d not seen another person. The household had found their beds. Every light in the front of the townhouse had been extinguished when Mr. Curtis had deposited her at the stoop earlier, the only glow was from the pair of sconces on either side of the front door.

Now, she stood silently inside Joy’s bedchamber, watching the girl breathing deeply, in and out, lost in a dreamland that only a sleeping babe could escape to. The room around her was decorated in pale yellow with cream drapes and a four-poster bed. In her youth, Payton would have given anything to have such a finely adorned room with dolls neatly arranged on a shelf, and a miniature dressing table made specifically for a young girl. Payton could have done without the demure pinafores with polished black boots and ribbons matching each dress. She could have done without the pearl-handled brushes and eyelet bed covering that perfectly matched the draperies.

Even the beeswax candles lighting every room had taken some getting used to given how they differed from the tallow ones used at Craven House. Despite the unappealing aroma tallow candles were known for, beeswax was a luxury Marce never allowed within their home—at least anywhere but in her parlor on the nights she held events.

Food over extravagance.

Education above travel.

And tallow candles with their sooty gray burn over the clean, fresh smell of beeswax.

It hadn’t mattered that the smoke from the wicks left horrible stains on the walls, or that their gowns, after years of exposure, always held the lingering scent of smoldering cotton.

Ashford Hall even appeared brighter when lit by beeswax over the sputtering of tallow flames.

Unfortunately, Payton did not know how Craven House appeared when lit by expensive candles. Such luxuries were not within Marce’s budget as she preferred to spend their money helping others, not only themselves. Payton agreed with her elder sister’s frugal spending habits; however, her time at Ashford Hall had her growing accustomed to certain extravagances.

Her day off had passed quickly, and she’d found herself longing to return to Ashford Hall if only to be away from the quiet of Craven House. She’d returned less than a day after her hurried escape from the gaming tables.

The hour was growing late, and she knew she should find her bed before she risked waking Joy, but she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the tranquil, serene girl. Did she know how lucky she was to be born into a noble family? To have the luxury of such contented slumber, knowing a hearty meal awaited her when she woke, complete with hot cocoa and marmalade for her toast. Those were things rarely offered to Payton and her sisters.

The baron, though aloof and distant, would surely do everything in his power to make certain Joy and Abram were cared for. Payton couldn’t even go to her sister for the funds to pay her debt to the duke. That was something she’d realized over the last day. She would need to repay Catherton. The lord was a powerful man and would—if needed—discover her identity.

If not today, then tomorrow or the next.

She was a gambler…never a thief.

Living with such worry hanging over her head would be too much to accept.