Page 83 of The Gambler Wagers Her Baron

“Yes, can he not ride with us?” Joy pleaded.

Payton turned to Abram, praying the boy would have some excuse that would curb his sister’s request. She should say no. It was her right as their governess—former governess, as it were. When Abram only shrugged with a lopsided grin, Payton acquiesced. The important thing was that she return the children without Damon discovering they were ever gone.

“You will remain outside Ashford Hall,” she said, pointing at Garrett. When he nodded, she turned to the children. “The pair of you will accompany me inside with no further questions. Understood?”

“Yes, Miss Samuels,” they said, nodding in unison.

Chapter 26

The room felt hollow and empty despite Damon’s nearly two dozen guests. His coat stretched too tightly across his shoulders, his evening shoes cramped his toes until they were numb, and the strings holding his black and orange mask in place cut into the tender flesh above his ears. Why had he thought hosting a gaming night would take his mind off the dire circumstances that were his life?

He found himself scrutinizing every female guest that arrived—was her hair the right length and color, was she tall enough, did she hold her chin at that precise, defiant angle that was unequivocally Payton?

Damon nodded to his servant, signaling that the gaming should commence.

She wasn’t coming. Why had he deluded himself into believing she would?

Neither had Catherton arrived, despite the acceptance of Damon’s invitation. Having the pair at Ashford Hall at the same time was both unwise and reckless. The duke had been searching for Payton for over a week, and he’d no doubt spot her no matter what disguise she donned.

That did not deter Damon from watching the door for her arrival.

“My lord,” a man with a solid blue mask and neatly trimmed golden hair called to him. “Join us.”

Damon waved off the invite. He was no more interested in hazard than he was any card game.

He inclined his head to a couple as they took their seats at the whist table. Thankfully, the foursome was complete, and they wouldn’t ask him to join them.

Mr. Brown appeared at the double doors of the ballroom, scanning the crowd until his eyes met Damon’s. They nodded at one another, and the butler pulled the doors closed. The servants delivering refreshments entered through a side door that led to the servants’ hallway and stairwell. When his Grosvenor Square townhouse had been built, the architect paid particular attention to making certain servants could come and go throughout the house without being noticed.

All it did was make Ashford Hall appear deserted when it was only he and the children in residence. Since Payton had left him and the children, the house had been too quiet. Too still. Too somber. He longed to hear Abram bickering with Joy, teasing her, or the pair playing a jest on their governess.

But the children had remained above stairs, quietly attending to their studies until Payton returned.

Damon sighed, gaining the notice of a man at the table before him who tucked his cards close with a scowl.

Why hadn’t he allowed her to handle telling the children? Payton would have had the courage to tell them, she would have spoken the truth in a way they could’ve understood, and he’d never have had to lie to them. In her short time at Ashford Hall, she’d made everything better—including him. Damon had spent years hiding: from his life, his future, and his children; unable to accept losing Sarah. He’d built a wall so thick to guard his heart, he hadn’t realized that he’d forgotten to breathe at some point.

Payton had been a breath of fresh air to his stale, cumbersome existence.

At some point, he’d taken his first deep inhale in four years. And he’d survived.

Moving forward without Sarah had been something he’d been unwilling to even contemplate. He’d set about remaining in the dark, empty place he’d entered after losing the mother of this children…and he’d done a marvelous job of it, too.

Until Payton.

She’d been the spark that set his darkened life ablaze—and he hadn’t expected it. Hadn’t seen it coming. Hadn’t fathomed it was what he needed, what his life was missing.

She was what their lives were missing.

He was glad for the mask covering his face because if any of his guests caught sight of him, they’d realize the pain he’d kept buried for too long. He’d hoped to avoid further heartbreak, but all he’d managed to do was keep the pain and anguish inside so long that it had festered within him.

A group of men chuckled at the faro table near the doors, and Damon’s stare lingered there. His way to escape. No one would notice if he slipped from the room. He could be in his study within moments, free of the watchful eyes of his guests, free to sink into his favored chair and lose himself in the dancing flames that licked the logs in the hearth.

Too many times, he’d lost hours—days even—watching the fire.

It had been nearly a month since he’d fallen into such despair.

Again, he could only blame Payton.