Page 5 of The Gambler Wagers Her Baron

“Do explain what is going on,” Damon gritted through clenched teeth.

“Your children”—her fists tightened at her sides with each word—“thought it comical to drop a vase full of—”

“We thought it downright hilarious, actually,” Abram all but sang from above. “Cook had red cabbage brought in from Suffolk, and the color was—”

“Quiet!” Damon slashed his hand through the air, cutting off his children’s latest burst of giggles. His glare never left Miss Samuels where she stood doused in blue dye from her bodice to the toe of her half boots, peeking out from under the hem of her morning gown. Her white apron was saturated, and droplets of blue-colored liquid fell to the floor from her tightly clenched fists.

He could not halt his appraisal as his stare landed on her bodice and slowly traveled to her waist. Her dress was stained and soaked and clinging to her shift below as the distinct stench of ammonia travelled through the air. Apparently, his son had taken heed of his chemistry studies and was employing the lessons learned.

With much effort, Damon lifted his eyes, thankful that despite the havoc wreaked on her dress and boots, her face was stain-free. Her dark tresses were pinned high atop her head with a single curl hanging over her shoulder, luckily impervious to the blue coloring.

Despite his children’s many governesses, none had even remotely resembled the lady before him. Miss Samuels was far younger than any governess he’d had as a child or any he’d employed for his own children. And the uptick of her chin as her eyes held his, said that she belonged in a ballroom instead of his foyer.

Clearing his throat, Damon was hard-pressed to determine who was more deserving of his reprimand: his wayward, unruly children or the woman who’d been hired to make certain his children were not wayward and unruly. He did not risk the wrath of his other servants to pay a governess twice the normal wage for a job that was not being successfully accomplished.

It was not his responsibility to tame his children. Bloody hell, that was exactly why he’d hired a string of governesses after his wife’s death. Sarah had tended to Abram and Joy as if it were her lifelong dream to raise children. She had provided them with love and nurturing, holding their small family together. And after she was taken from them, Damon had struggled to find his way. Raising a family without Sarah had never crossed his mind.

As with any hired post, there were certain expectations to be met—both his and society’s. Joy and Abram were far from the orderly, polite children of other ton members. And as much as he could be blamed for their lack of decorum, Damon was unwilling to accept censure.

Damon’s deep breaths mirrored the governess’s labored inhales and exhales.

“Miss Samuels,” he said before pausing to think through his next words. He could not, would not, allow the woman—as inept as she appeared—to flee her post before he’d secured another governess. “I would’ve thought twice the going wage would be incentive enough to handle two small children.”

Her fists landed on her hips. “Twice the going wage for each would not adequately cover it.”

“I hadn’t thought our first opportunity to meet would be under such circumstances, Miss Samuels.” Damon worked hard to keep his tone even, reminding himself that this was not a conversation to be had before his staff, and certainly not with the children present.

“I hadn’t thought to take a post for an absent lord, either. If you took any interest in your children, perhaps employed a firmer hand with them, there would be no need for such a meeting between us.” Her chin lifted a notch, and her blue eyes darkened. “Certainly, they would be better behaved, at the very least.”

“Are you criticizing my position as their father?”

“I have never witnessed you in such a role, however—”

“How I conduct myself, care for my children, and hold my place in this household is none of your concern, Miss Samuels,” he retorted. “I love my children very much. You…I must merely tolerate for the time being. They shall go nowhere, while governesses come and go.”

Indignation widened her stare before she lowered her gaze to the floor.

His severe tone was necessary. There were important issues that needs must be voiced, matters to be addressed and edicts adhered to. If not by his children, then at least by this staff. “It is your responsibility, as their governess, to teach them manners and decorum. If they possessed such skills, they would not be acting the heathens they are at present.”

Joy and Abram had not evolved into the troublesome beasts they were under her watch, but rather his own. The knowledge of that fact did nothing to diminish Damon’s ire. His temper flared when he came face-to-face with his own failures. As simple as it would be to cast the blame at Miss Samuels’ feet, his children’s behavior had been something of a thorn in his side for some time, and chastising the governess as he was, was not the ideal first conversation for them.

“Joy…Abram…you will come down here at once and clean up this mess. Next, you will apologize to Mrs. Brown for sullying her freshly polished floor,” he said, mustering every ounce of sternness he possessed. His tone softened with his next words, and he pinched the bridge of his nose as the ache in his head pounded ever more insistently. “Miss Samuels, you will join me in my study for a private word.”

Why was his household, and everyone under his roof, not as easily maintained as his business endeavors?

Chapter 2

Miss Payton Samuels closed the baron’s study door behind her—with a bit more force than necessary or proper truth be told. However, she refused to add any further embarrassment to her situation. Was it not enough that Lord Ashford had spoken harshly to her in front of her charges? The last thing she desired was Abram and Joy overhearing their father lecturing her on the proper conduct of children and her duties as their governess. She’d been at Ashford Hall for an entire month, and this was the first time the baron had troubled himself enough to address her or interact with his children.

Payton could only imagine what would have happened if her mother had left her and her siblings to fallow for such an extended period of time. It was surprising the children were not far more lawless than they were. When she took the position as their governess, it had been explained by the housekeeper that Payton would be responsible for the children from the time they woke until they found their beds each evening, with one day off per week. She’d viewed the post as a spot of fun. She’d be away from her elder sister’s watchful eye and staying in a grand London home.

Unfortunately, spending most of her days teaching two young children was a chore she’d quickly discovered she was not exactly qualified to handle.

The baron’s absence from daily life only seemed to make matters worse. He stalked the halls during the night and slipped unseen into his study during the day. Once, earlier that week, Payton had sensed someone watching her as she worked with Joy on her ciphering. When she glanced toward the open schoolroom door, a shadow had been the only thing she saw, but it too had disappeared in an instant.

She glanced down at her saturated dress and apron, praying the blue dye hadn’t splashed higher to blemish her neck and face. Since taking the post, she’d tried to understand the baron’s children, to attain a companionable relationship with them; however, they resisted at every turn. After an entire month, she no more understood them than she did their absentee father.

The troublesome duo was mischievous and exasperating. Her elder siblings would no doubt find immense satisfaction in the sheer amount of frustration—and the limitless problems—Joy and Abram inflicted on Payton on an almost hourly basis. Most nights, Payton barely made it to bed without falling asleep at their evening meal first. Forget all the evenings she’d thought to enjoy herself about London without having to answer to her siblings regarding her whereabouts.