Page 67 of The Gambler Wagers Her Baron

“Very good, miss.”

Payton waited as the modiste sent her servant to collect the cream-colored, off-the-shoulder ball gown she’d had commissioned on the baron’s account. The gown had been an extravagant purchase, costing three times as much as the morning dress Joy and Abram had ruined. At the time, Payton had been taken aback by the modiste’s insistence that she replace the ruined dress with a gown of such fine quality and cut; however, Madame DelFortaine and explained that the baron had given strict instructions as to the cost of the gown. And now that he’d seen fit to replace Payton, the extreme cost of the dress seemed more of a parting gift than an extravagance.

Chapter 21

Payton leapt down from the Craven House carriage, startling Mr. Curtis with her unexpected and unladylike jump onto the Ashford walk. She hadn’t bothered to instruct the Craven House servant to park down the street. It would not take her long within the townhouse.

“Do wait here, please, Mr. Curtis,” she threw over her shoulder as she stalked to the front door. “I shall only be a few moments.”

She didn’t wait for his response but raised her gloved hand to knock. The door swung open to reveal Mr. Brown’s grinning, wrinkled face.

“Good morn, Miss Samuels.” He stood back and allowed her entrance. “I was beginning to worry.”

It had taken all of Payton’s resolve not to return to Ashford Hall the night before and tell the baron precisely what she thought of him. He was aloof, cold, distant, and highly unqualified to be raising two children.

However, she’d adjusted her plans by the time the sun rose.

“Good morning, Mr. Brown.” The hour was ungodly early at only seven o’clock. It would be best if she collected her things, left the letter on the baron’s desk, and departed before the household was fully awake. “Is the baron in his study yet this morning?”

Payton started for the stairs, and the butler fell into place beside her, matching her long strides. “He is, in fact, up early this morning and already at work.”

Her step faltered. “Lord Ashford is awake and in his study already?”

The butler nodded toward the baron’s office where the door stood ajar.

She hadn’t expected to find him up and already below stairs. In fact, she’d hoped he’d be having a lie-in after hosting his gaming evening the previous night, giving her another thirty minutes at least to pack her room, leave her letter, and escape before Damon or the children came downstairs to take their morning meal.

Her hopes had been dashed, though her anger had yet to ebb.

Grasping her skirts, she held them up from the floor and started for the study.

Speaking directly to the baron would have to do as he would certainly hear the commotion if she attempted to remove her trunk from Ashford Hall and move it out to the walk where Mr. Curtis waited.

“Shall I announce you, Miss Samuels?” The elder servant attempted to keep pace with her but was falling behind.

“No need.” Payton slipped into the study and closed the door at the same moment the butler scoffed at the brashness of her entering unbidden.

“Miss Samuels?” Confusion laced Damon’s voice, and her shoulders tensed at the softness. “Good morning. It is lovely to have you back. I do hope you enjoyed—”

“Stop,” she commanded, taking a deep breath before leveling her narrowed stare on the baron. She needs must think of him as the baron or better still, Lord Ashford if she had any hope of making it through this without showing the bloody man how much it hurt her. She took her painstakingly neat letter from the pocket of her cloak. It had taken nearly three hours to write it as she attempted to collect her words yet keep her emotions out of the situation.

He stood from his desk, his eyes trained on the paper clutched in her hands.

“What have you there, Payton?” She detected a hint of unease in his tone.

Payton glanced down at her hands before raising her chin and pointedly staring at him across the room, attempting to keep her irritation at bay at his insistence on using her given name. Why had she kissed him and allowed him to kiss her back? If it hadn’t been for that brief lapse in judgment, she would be able to continue on as Joy and Abram’s governess.

That wasn’t true.

The boundaries had been crossed long before their kiss.

What of the night he’d invited her into this very room and offered her a drink? She’d accepted without a second thought. It was in that moment that things had changed between them. He was no longer the aloof, reserved baron who all but ignored his children, and she was no longer the ill-tempered governess who couldn’t bring his children to heel.

They’d come to an unspoken agreement as they shared a scotch. He’d told her of the woman he’d lost, and she’d shared a bit about her past.

Now, there was nothing of the quiet, intimate moment remaining.

By the light of day, everything was different. He was different, and she most definitely was.