Page 75 of The Gambler Wagers Her Baron

Payton quickened her pace as she climbed the main stairs, keeping her head low as she passed Darla, their housekeeper. Only a few more steps and she’d be in the safety of her bedchamber.

Payton needed to focus on what she’d been meant to do all along: find her own future, forge her own path, and discover what happiness awaited her.

Her time as a governess had served her well to help her determine what that future would entail and the strength she’d need to achieve all she desired. Missteps, mistakes, and hardships would come her way. However, one day, when she found a home of her own, she’d look back and know it was all worth the journey.

Chapter 24

“Mr. Brown.” Damon strode down the hall after his butler. “A word, please.”

The servant turned with an even smile, his hands clasped behind his back. “Yes, my lord?”

Damon sat in his study for nearly an hour after Catherton had left, worrying over Miss Samuels and whether the duke was skilled enough—or perhaps, paid enough—to have Payton located and brought before a magistrate. Until his plan solidified.

As the governess had so kindly thrown in his face, her personal dealings were not his concern. She was no longer part of his household; therefore, he shouldn’t fret over her.

What he should do and what he actually did were two very different things.

“I would like to host a gaming night tomorrow evening.”

The butler’s brow rose in alarm. “It is not your usual night.”

“Is that a problem?” Damon gritted his teeth, immediately regretting his harsh tone.

“Of course, not, my lord.” Mr. Brown glanced past Damon, his welcoming smile returning. “Master Abram and Miss Joy, you are both looking wonderfully rested this morning. Mrs. Brown has laid out your morning meal in the back salon. The gardens are lovely right now.” The man’s stare hardened when he turned back to Damon. It was highly uncharacteristic of the butler to take any liberties with decorum. “I will arrange everything for the gaming night—tomorrow.”

His butler certainly knew of Payton’s resignation and departure…and he blamed Damon.

It appeared he also blamed Damon for changing his usual gaming night.

But he was committed enough to him and Damon’s children to soften the blow by allowing them to dine in the sunny salon that was usually reserved for esteemed guests. Not that there had been any noteworthy guests in years—with the exception of Payton, that is.

“Thank you, Mr. Brown.” Damon paused for a moment, wondering if his plan would be seen to fruition or bring Catherton to his boiling point. “One last thing.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Can you have a footman deliver this to the Duke of Catherton’s residence?” He held out the personal invitation addressed to the duke and signed by himself. Damon had to convince Catherton his plot to chase down Payton would get him nowhere.

The butler collected the letter, followed it up by giving a curt bow, and hurried toward the kitchens. His bow was not as deep as it once was, and his hurried steps were more of a shuffle nowadays.

Once the butler had departed, that left Damon to face his children.

Alone.

“Good morning,” he greeted, meeting them at the bottom of the stairs. Joy’s hair looked as if it hadn’t been combed in days, while Abram wore two stockings that didn’t quite match. “May I join you for your meal?”

Joy giggled. “Of course, Father.”

Abram ignored his greeting and pushed past his sister, starting for the back salon. “Where is Miss Samuels? I have something of grave importance to speak with her about.”

Damon took Joy’s tiny hand in his as they followed Abram. Her grip was tighter than he’d expect for such a young child.

He’d hoped to put off speaking about Payton’s absence, at least until he could determine a reasonable explanation that did not include gaming debts and late-night kisses, not to mention scotches in his study. He couldn’t bear the children laying the blame at his feet.

There was no denying that he was the cause of Payton’s resignation.

Admitting as much to Joy and Abram was something he longed to avoid. It would be wise to find an explanation that fit his reasoning: that it was for the best that she’d left his employ. He would hire a new governess, perhaps one with a more impressive background in history, while Miss Samuels would find a household she was better suited to serve in.

“Miss Samuels has fallen under the weather,” he said as they entered the back salon, the windows were open, and light streamed into the room, brightening every corner. He wished the morning sun reached within him, not only kissing his skin. “Is there something I can help you with?”