Page 55 of The Gambler Wagers Her Baron

Clearing his throat, he settled his hard stare on Joy, gaining a giggle of excitement from her. “Now, Joy Kinder, what is your defense for such an accusation?”

Her eyes rounded, and she nibbled on her bottom lip. “My defense is…I was not born at that time and do not care much for stuffy, wigged, old men who likely smell worse than the Thames.”

She nodded on the last word, and Miss Samuels broke into laughter.

Damon couldn’t help but allow his stare to stray to the governess. Her face was alight with merriment as if she were enjoying herself as much as he was.

“Miss Samuels,” he grunted. “You think to support Miss Joy Kinder’s treasonous declarations?” When Payton covered her mouth and nodded, Damon continued, “What shall be done, Master Abram?”

“The gallows, I fear,” Abram responded with all seriousness.

“You would send your sister and your governess to the gallows, good sir?” Damon asked.

“King Henry VIII had two queens beheaded.” Abram lowered his voice to a hushed whisper as if he spoke to his father in privacy. “It would set a bad precedent if I were to be lenient with this pair.”

Damon leaned close to Abram. “What do you know of leniency and precedent? You are only eight.”

“I know that if King George III had been less lenient and set a precedent with the Colonies, we would not have lost so many lives,” Abram retorted.

“Very true.” Damon rubbed his chin as if thinking through what fate Joy and Miss Samuels would face. “However, the good peoples of the Colonies did not deserve the oppressive rules forced on them by a king who would just as readily leave them all to perish in the New World.”

Joy smiled, sensing she’d won her reprieve, while Damon nodded to the footman over Abram’s head, signaling for the meal to be served.

Several servants swept into the room, placing plates on the table and retreating, effectively putting an end to Joy and Abram’s banter.

Damon would be lying if he didn’t find a measure of satisfaction in his children’s love for history, and Miss Samuels’ willingness to educate them in all respects of the past, not just those deemed proper for young children. Damon was a firm believer in the past predicting the future. If things did not change, then history was doomed to repeat itself. How that pertained to him—or his children—he did not know.

Focusing on his plate, Damon felt Payton’s stare on him as he did at each meal they shared.

It was as if she waited for him to look at her. That they’d share a private moment in the presence of his children. But Damon couldn’t allow himself that intimacy with her. Bringing about a closer bond between them was not something Damon could afford.

He could keep watch over his children without making it known, just as he’d visited the schoolroom several times over the past several days and remained unnoticed by Payton and the children.

Distance.

It was best for them all.

However, their bantering—and the jovial mood it brought—certainly wasn’t distance. The realization filled Damon with a speck of hope. For what, he wasn’t sure, but hope nonetheless.

“My lord,” Payton said, demanding his attention, though her tone remained relaxed. “The children have asked about a possible trip to the British Museum. It would be beneficial to their studies and give them a day outside of the townhouse if—”

“You needn’t list the benefits of a day at the museum, Miss Samuels.” Damon paused with a bite of pheasant nearly at his mouth. “You are free to take the children places whenever you deem they have behaved well enough for the excursion. Mrs. Brown will give you the coin needed for entry, and Mr. Brown will have a carriage at your disposal.”

“But, Father, you will not come with us?” Disappointment hung heavy in Joy’s tone.

“Your father does not sit idly about all day,” Miss Samuels tsked.

Damon set his utensil next to his plate with a little more force than necessary. “You do not have to come to my defense, Miss Samuels.”

“I did not mean—”

“It is all right.” He paused, focusing on his food to calm his nerves. With only a few words, all of the light, jovial mood fled the room, taking with it his children’s smiles. “Joy and Abram are children. I am an adult—with responsibilities. I cannot neglect said responsibilities to frolic in the park or visit a museum I’ve been to over a dozen times before. However, if Joy and Abram wish to see the exhibits, you can accompany them.”

“Very well, Lord Ashford.” Payton lowered her head and set about finishing her meal, as did his children.

He hadn’t meant to be difficult or brash, nor could he allow himself to give in to the hope and anticipation swirling within him after their kiss.

It was just that there were boundaries to adhere to, and propriety to maintain. Gallivanting about London with his children’s governess was neither proper nor acceptable. It was better for them all if he remained at Ashford Hall while they ventured out.