Page 30 of The Gambler Wagers Her Baron

“Very well, but do hurry back,” Payton said, waving the boy off. “We will start our afternoon lessons in ten minutes.”

“Would it be all right if I go with him?” The apprehension in the girl’s voice was unmistakable, and Payton suddenly faced the hopeless, hurt child from the night before.

“Of course. Go ahead,” Payton murmured. “I suppose it will be up to me to finish all this wonderful food Cook prepared for us.”

The pair slid from their chairs with uneasy smiles and fled the room, their voices making their way back to Payton.

“…I told you the flour wasn’t a stellar idea.”

“How was I to know she’d agree to speak with Father so readily,” Joy retorted before the door slammed behind them.

Payton focused her attention on the meal spread before her, determined not to dwell on what exactly the pair had concocted with the flour. They’d turned a corner, the trio of them, a new understanding recognized between them. Perhaps continuing on at Ashford Hall would not be as dire as she’d anticipated, at least for the time being. Nothing was forever—and the future was ever-changing. Deciding to remain here, with Joy and Abram, was not entirely forsaking her chosen path, only a slight detour.

And gaining another private moment with the baron didn’t seem as displeasing as before either. She’d noticed—seen with her own eyes—a side of the man not many people were privy to, at least not any in his household.

However, when next they met, would he be the man from the previous night? Or the withdrawn, forlorn lord she’d witnessed since her arrival in his home?

Payton wondered if sharing her past with him would bring about the same change she was noticing in Joy.

Her truth for his.

Chapter 11

Damon stared into the blazing hearth, the crackle from the burning log the only sound disrupting the peace of his study. With all his business handled for the day, there was nothing else to fill his time until Mrs. Brown brought him his dinner.

The quiet was nearly deafening.

No shrieks from above. No slamming doors. No bickering.

He hadn’t heard a single footfall besides that of the servants going about their chores.

An entire day without incident. It had seemed inconceivable only a day before.

The muscles in his neck hadn’t eased, though. He was not fool enough to believe the tranquility of his home could last more than another few hours.

He’d passed by the schoolroom during the afternoon to find Joy and Abram busy at their studies, heads lowered while his daughter scribbled on some paper and Abram read a large tome. Certainly, the book was too advanced for his son. Hesitant to disrupt them, Damon had moved on and returned to his study…where he now sat.

Odd that only an hour before, he’d even wondered if Flora would be coming for a visit soon. His boredom due to his self-imposed reclusive lifestyle had reached a new level. He’d spent years hiding in this very room, and now he longed for a distraction from his solitude.

Five long days until the next gambling evening. It seemed a lifetime away.

And even the idea of that gave him no thrill.

Damon sighed, glancing at the sideboard where his tumbler lay empty. Not even the prospect of getting thoroughly drunk held any appeal.

Why could his children not come running down the stairs, yelling at one another? Or perhaps switch Cook’s sugar for salt? Or fill Mr. Brown’s pantry with stable cats. Better yet, ruin another of Miss Samuels’ gowns.

The image of his children’s governess standing before him, red with indignation, filled his thoughts, followed quickly by the sight of her sitting on Sarah’s favored lounge. Damon shook his head. He wouldn’t allow himself to think of Miss Samuels at the same time as Sarah. They were completely different women, from two opposite stations in life. One was the mother of his children, while the other…

Damon clamped his eyes shut as the unfamiliar lullaby echoed in his head.

The damned governess had given him a gift he didn’t deserve. She’d soothed Joy’s pain in a way he never could. A way he never imagined possible. He’d settled her gaming debt with the duke, but it was Damon who owed her. He’d been a fool to think he’d paid off Catherton to keep the man from spreading gossip about his gambling parties. That hadn’t been the reason at all.

He’d done it to repay the governess’s kindness.

Though she’d never know he did it, or his motives behind the deed.

She’d given Joy comfort from her pain, loss, and grief.