Page 64 of The Gambler Wagers Her Baron

Joy pouted, pushing her lower lip forward. “Then what?”

He glanced down at the missive. If he’d been alone when it was delivered, he would have slipped it into his desk and forgotten about it. Unfortunately, his daughter’s zeal at receiving a letter, even though it wasn’t addressed to her, was infectious and impossible to ignore.

“We have been invited to dine with Aunt Flora this afternoon at Wexfestor’s on Piccadilly.” She’d never sent such an invite before and rarely requested the children’s presence.

This did bring Abram’s attention away from his work, his brow furrowing. “Aunt Flora does not ask Joy and me to meals. In fact, I have never heard her speak either of our names. You may go without me.”

Damon had been thinking the same exact thing. He reread his sister’s note. I find myself free this afternoon. You and the children shall attend me at Wexfestor’s for my afternoon meal.

It was everything he’d expect from Flora.

A summons, not an invitation. He was her servant ready to do her bidding, not her brother.

“Mayhap you are correct, Abram,” he mused, refolding the letter. “I am certain you are both very busy today.”

“I have nothing to do,” Joy screeched.

“You want to dine with Aunt Flora?” The girl’s enthusiasm had his chest tightening. Had he neglected to give her something she truly longed for?

She returned to her chair, folding her hands in her lap and tucking her crossed ankles under her seat. “Oh, yes, please.”

Perhaps Wexfestor’s would be another welcome distraction. His gaming night was later that evening; however, Mr. Brown, with the assistance of a couple of footmen, could see the room prepared.

“It is settled,” he said, placing his palms on the table. “We shall go.”

“It is not settled at all.” Abram frowned.

“We will attend your aunt, eat quickly, and return home,” he rebutted. “But you will go.”

“I will stay here with Miss Samuels.”

“Miss Samuels has the day off and is not at Ashford Hall.”

“Then summon her back,” Abram said, crossing his arms as if that were the end of things.

“Did Aunt Flora invite Miss Samuels to join us, too?” Joy asked.

“She did not.” Damon reclined in his chair. It appeared the governess’s absence would not remain unnoticed.

“That is quite discourteous of Aunt Flora.” Joy rubbed her chin. “I suppose we should send our regrets.”

Discourteous? Send our regrets?

The girl was barely six and spoke like a lady thrice her age.

“It is one meal without Miss Samuels,” he argued.

“Three,” Abram said before returning to his notebook once again. “Last night, this meal, and now afternoon dining with Aunt Flora.”

“I am certain Miss Samuels would not want the pair of you to remain indoors just because she is not here to accompany us.” Why had he thought their good cheer from the previous day would extend to the next? “We are going, and that is all.”

“Very well.” Abram collected his notes and stood, leaving his plate untouched. “What time will we depart?”

“One o’clock.”

He nodded before leaving the room.

“What could Aunt Flora possibly want?” Joy mumbled.