The Gambler Wagers Her Baron: Craven House Series, Book Four

by Christina McKnight

  He didn’t want that for Payton. She deserved better than to be exposed in the gossip rags.

  Meeting Payton’s eyes once more, Damon noted that they’d softened—even lightened in color—behind her mask. She should be terrified. Bloody hell, the duke was a fierce and formidable adversary. Yet, that was not what he saw in her eyes.

  It was almost as if she regretted being caught by Catherton because of the impact on him.

  “You should go,” he whispered, notching his head toward the door. “Mr. Brown, make certain my guest finds her carriage and arrives home safely. Send Rigby as an escort.”

  “Of course, my lord.” The Ashford butler cleared his throat, and Damon glanced away from Payton to see the servant nod upward. “If you will come with me, miss.”

  On the landing above, both his children stood staring down at him in utter shock—and outrage?

  “Return to your rooms, children,” Damon commanded. If at any time he desperately needed Joy and Abram to follow his demands, it was now. “I will come and check in on you in a few minutes.”

  He was satisfied when both blond heads disappeared, but he waited to hear the closing of their doors from above. His guests had fallen silent behind him, likely hanging on every word spoken, committing it to memory, and ready to retrieve it during their rounds of social calls the following day.

  “I am not leaving,” Payton said, gaining a gasp from the enthralled crowd and a scowl from Damon. She turned away from him to face the duke. “I do owe you a debt and mean to settle it as soon as I have the funds.”

  “You owe him nothing,” Damon countered. “I made good on what was owed to Catherton.”

  “Not before this woman fled your home like a thief in the night.” Catherton took in the awestruck crowd lingering in the hall. “See this woman”—he pointed at Payton, who shrank back a step—“she lost a sizable hand to me, and instead of paying her due, she left. She is a coward and a con.”

  Damon turned to address his guests. “Please, return to the ballroom.”

  In the dim corridor, Damon watched as one by one, the ladies and lords of the ton exclaimed in horror, and their mouths rounded in Os of surprise as Payton began to untie the strings holding her mask in place.

  “Don’t!” It was all Damon could think to say. If the crowd learned her identity, despite merely being a governess in his household, she would never again secure a position in London or anywhere in England, for that matter. If the magistrate were summoned, she’d face far worse penalties for her crime than any proper lady would.

  But his warning did nothing to stop her or even slow her as the mask slipped from her face, exposing her creamy white skin and her deep-set, catlike, blue eyes.

  “Who is she?” a woman asked.

  “I haven’t the faintest notion,” a man replied.

  “Never set eyes on the girl before,” another male voice mumbled.

  Of course, they’d not know Payton. Perhaps there was still hope the matter could be settled in private without the magistrate.

  “Let us take this to my study,” Damon said. “You have caused quite enough of a disturbance, Catherton.” He turned to the crowd. “The spectacle is over. Please return to the ballroom.”

  When the duke nodded, the crowd dispersed quickly and, within moments, the musicians could be heard tuning their instruments.

  Satisfied, Damon held out his arm for Payton, who gratefully slipped her gloved hand into the crook of his elbow. Her actions befuddled him, not to mention her unexpected presence in his home. They followed in the direction of his guests towards the ballroom but turned right instead of left when the corridor split.

  The duke’s sharp footfalls filled the corridor behind them with Mr. Brown’s shuffle scurrying after them all.

  Once everyone had entered his study, and the door was securely closed behind them preventing anyone from eavesdropping on their conversation, Damon offered Payton the seat behind his desk. If anything, it was to keep Catherton as far from her as possible. With a piece of furniture between them, Damon did not fear the duke laying a hand on her again.

  “Your disturbance here this evening was uncalled for, Your Grace.” Damon’s tone left no room for argument. “You have insulted me, my guests, and provided ample gossip for the papers. I do not take kindly to such spectacles in my home.”

  “It was you who invited me, Ashford.”

  Damon faced away from Payton, keeping his focus on Catherton and settling the matter without another call for the magistrate. “I sent my invitation to make amends and secure your agreement that this entire matter was resolved. You are friends with my sister and her husband. I did not want any ill will between our families.”

  “Yet you, my lord, were hiding the woman in your home the entire time.” The duke fell silent, but Damon would not refute his claim. “You thought you could fool me as she did. It is dishonorable and, despite making good on what she owed me, the debt is nowhere near being settled.” His narrowed stare landed on Payton next. “I will have your name.”

  She stood behind Damon’s desk, not taking the seat he’d offered her, and met the duke’s glare without flinching. “Miss Payton Samuels of Craven House, Your Grace.”

  “Craven House,” he scoffed. “I should have known.”

  To her credit, Payton did not appear wounded by his retort. She lifted her chin a notch and refused to break eye contact with Catherton.

  “Lord Garrett Davenport’s sister, are you?” When Payton only nodded, Catherton chuckled. “I should have noted your lack of pedigree the moment you removed your mask.”

  “You can summon the magistrate,” Payton said, her voice cracking with defeat.

  “Do not be impulsive, Miss Samuels,” Damon said. If the magistrate learned of the incident, Damon would be helpless to save her. She’d be taken from his home and likely disappear, leaving him with little recourse. He wouldn’t allow that fate to befall her. His temper flared for his part in bringing the duke back to Ashford Hall.

  Once again, it was his failure that would cause others pain.

  “How do you know the woman, Ashford?” the duke demanded, clasping his hands behind his back.

  “She is—was—my children’s governess,” Damon offered, hoping the duke would take pity on her…or him. “At the time, I was unaware it was she masquerading at my gaming party. I settled her debt without her knowledge after I discovered her identity.”

  “And you did not summon the magistrate yourself? Interesting…” He stared between Damon and Payton, a slow smile spreading across his face. “What are we to do?”

  “I am willing to hand myself over to the magistrate and accept my punishment,” Payton muttered with contrition, stealing the breath from Damon’s lungs as if he’d been punched in the gut. “As long as you leave the baron and his family out of the matter. I created this situation. Alone.”

  She was willing to sacrifice herself for him and the children? It was inconceivable and unnecessary.

  Catherton had stalled calling for the magistrate this long, and Damon suspected the duke never planned to turn her over for punishment in the first place. No, he was the type of lord who took pleasure in doling out his own forms of punishment.

  Unfortunately for him, he was unaware of the adversary he faced in Miss Payton Samuels…and the man who loved her.

  Damon had no intention of leaving this room until Catherton knew the retribution he’d face if he tarnished Payton’s name and family in any way—or worse, caused her to be detained by the magistrate.

  Chapter 28

  Damon’s reasoning for settling her debt without consulting her became clear the moment the Duke of Catherton grasped her arm as she attempted to flee back up the grand stairs. Even now, behind the safety of Damon’s massive desk with both men on the other side, the aching pulse in her upper arm from the duke’s crushing hold reminded her that Catherton was not a lord to be trifled with. His face reddened further, and his nostrils flared even more when she proclaimed h
er willingness to take responsibility for her actions.

  It was always bound to come to this.

  She’d gambled when she hadn’t the funds to make good on her bets. She’d misread the duke. More than that, Payton had underestimated his skill at the gaming tables.

  She had wagered and lost.

  And now she would lose far more than the freedom she coveted and the ability to make her own decisions.

  She stood to lose Damon and the children, as well. It seemed all the more real and final, far more so than leaving the baron’s employ.

  Staring the duke directly in the eyes, Payton waited for his verdict, her outward confidence belying her racing pulse and trembling knees. She’d rather spend eternity in gaol without benefit of proper lighting or meals before she’d allow Catherton to see her weakness—or Damon to witness her losing the tentative grip she had on her fear.

  All of Marce’s savings would not buy her freedom from this situation. This was about far more than mere money…yet, she was at a loss as to what Catherton wanted from her.

  Payton balled her fists at her sides, praying her flowing skirts hid them from sight.

  “She was in my employ at the time, and it is I who should be held accountable for her transgression, Your Grace.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to look at Damon as he spoke.

  Why would he take the blame for her? Not many days ago, he’d basically told her she was replaceable, and that he merely tolerated her presence. She would have wagered on him in a heartbeat, and he could have turned her out onto the streets without a second thought.

  Now, they were both willing to put their names and futures in jeopardy to save the other.

  …and the children. What must they think of her after witnessing her confrontation with Catherton? She could only pray that they’d taken to their beds and had not heard the commotion.

  A loud thump hit the closed study door with such fierce power that it rattled the latch.

  “My lord,” Mr. Brown whined. “I cannot allow you inside Lord Ashford’s study. He is engaged in a very important meeting and has asked not to be disturbed. If you would like to wait in the ballroom, I will be pleased to—”

  “I will not wait anywhere but where my sister is.” The malice in Garrett’s normally easygoing voice pierced through the thick, wooden door. “Move out of my way, sir.”

  The scuffle continued, and the latch jiggled as if Garrett were attempting to open the door while the butler was still blocking it.

  “Is that the magistrate, Ashford?” Catherton demanded, stalking toward the door. “Your servant is denying him entrance.”

  Payton remained silent, her arms crossed, and waited for her brother to break through Mr. Brown or for the duke to wrench the door open from the inside. Her complicated situation was being made more complex by the moment. She hadn’t told Garrett about her debt to Catherton or the baron having settled it.

  The door burst open, and Garrett stumbled past the butler and into the room.

  The duke’s back stiffened. “Davenport?”

  And Garrett’s eyes rounded. “Catherton?”

  “What are you doing here?” Catherton pivoted to face Damon, while Garrett met her glare over the duke’s shoulder.

  “I might ask the same thing.” Garrett didn’t wait for an invitation to join the fray. “Pay, you didn’t return. I was worried.”

  Contrite was not a trait her brother exhibited often—or ever, really—but he was clearly apologetic for bursting in on them.

  “Davenport.” The duke focused on Garrett, pleased to have yet another adversary in the room. “Are you aware your sister owes me a hefty amount?”

  “She owes you nothing,” Damon interjected. “Her debt was settled. By me.”

  Garrett appeared amused, if anything, now that he’d seen for himself that Payton was whole and unharmed. “Lord Ashford,” her brother said, ignoring Catherton’s question. “It is a pleasure”—he glanced toward Payton and winked—“to make your acquaintance. I’ve attended your gaming night a time or two. Lovely gathering. My sister has spoken fondly of you and your children.”

  She wanted to throttle Garrett. He was acting as if he and Damon had been introduced amidst a ballroom and not in the study of her previous employer over a gambling debt. And to insinuate that she’d shared anything with her brother about the nature of her relationship with Damon had her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

  Damon appeared to be working through something in his mind, but Garrett continued before he could reply. “It was a pleasure meeting Miss Joy and Master Abram this evening. Fine-looking pair, I assure you.”

  “You’ve met my children?” Damon set his hands on his hips and glared.

  Mr. Brown took the moment to clear his throat, gaining everyone’s attention. “Is there anything else you require from me, my lord?”

  “I demand the magistrate be called.” Catherton’s anger increased ever more.

  “My dear sister,” Garrett tsked. “Marce swore that bribing Mr. Newman to release Jude was the final time she’d rescue any of us from the clutches of the law.”

  “Ashford.” Catherton stalked toward Damon until the toe of their boots nearly touched.

  Garrett chuckled—chuckled!—placing his hand on the duke’s shoulder. “As Payton’s brother, and her eldest male relation, this situation is mine to remedy.”

  “I have settled the situation,” Damon repeated. “Miss Samuels’ debts were paid.”

  “This is not about money,” Catherton seethed, spittle spraying the lapel of Garrett’s evening coat. “She is a fraud, and I have half a mind to tell the magistrate that you, Ashford, are responsible for bilking your guests right alongside her. I am certain she cheated during our first game.”

  Garrett glanced at her, his eyes questioning. It hurt to think that he believed that there was a possibility she had cheated. Her younger self wouldn’t have needed to ponder the decision, she’d have done anything to win, consequences be damned.

  But she shook her head, hoping he believed she’d won the first game fair—just as she’d lost the second.

  The last thing she wanted was Damon and Garrett arguing over who was responsible for the mess she’d created.

  “Enough.” Payton slashed her hand through the air before placing both palms flat on Damon’s desk. “I lost at cards. Damon—er, Lord Ashford—settled my debt, but I am more than capable of accepting the consequences and also repaying the baron.”

  “That is not necessary.”

  “But it is.” Payton needed Damon to understand that she could care for herself, or at least that she was trying to. Her family didn’t think she could tend to her own life, make her own decisions. She’d taken her position as a governess to prove that she was no longer a little girl but a woman capable of caring for herself. Her stomach sank to think they could be correct.

  “Catherton, there is not a magistrate in London who will take your words seriously when there is no debt left,” Damon said. “Neither her brother nor I will allow a magistrate to be summoned, and I assume you will not relish the scandal that will follow if you are responsible for Miss Samuels being apprehended. Besides, I am certain Lord Garrett would never back your claim that it is Miss Samuels who lost to you. In fact, I believe it was I who lost to you. Perhaps the magistrate should be called for me.”

  “That is utter nonsense, Ashford,” Catherton chortled. “It was this woman who I bested at cards, not you.”

  Damon glanced at Payton’s brother. “That’s not how I remember it happening, what about you?”

  “Not close at all.” Garrett shook his head. “I was sitting at the table. Couldn’t believe my eyes. Catherton won a sizable hand, you paid him promptly, and Catherton left with heavy pockets.”

  “You were not there,” the duke retorted. “And it was a woman who lost, not a man. There are witnesses to the fact.”

  “As I remember it, it is only Miss Payton that wasn’t present.” Garrett shrugged,
filling Payton with a fondness for her brother. “I am certain any witnesses questioned will confirm the fact.”

  “You expect the magistrate to believe the word of a mere baron and a disgraced second son over a duke?” Catherton’s hands balled at his sides as the vein in his forehead visibly throbbed.

  “I can’t believe he would be foolish enough to think we would lie about you winning…” Damon’s voice trailed off, and Garrett clapped him on the back.

  “I think it is time you leave,” Garrett said, nodding to Mr. Brown. “Please show the duke out. If he has any other…concerns, he is free to take an audience with my eldest sister and me at Craven House.”

  Though Garrett and Damon had stepped shoulder-to-shoulder, blocking her view, Catherton could be heard breathing, practically seething with his rage. “This is not over.”

  “I think it is,” Damon replied, gesturing to the door. “Mr. Brown, please show the duke out, if you would be so kind.”

  “Of course.” The butler reached forward as if to grasp Catherton’s elbow, but the duke shook off the man’s attempt and departed, his footsteps ringing down the deserted corridor until the door slammed.

  “Thank you for your assistance,” Damon offered.

  Garrett trained his narrowed stare on Damon as he stood a bit taller. “It was for my sister, not you, Ashford.”

  “Garrett,” Payton warned. Why had his demeanor turned so quickly? Only seconds before, the pair had worked together to oust the duke. “Thank you.”

  “If that matter is settled, I think it is time we depart.”

  “Of course.” Payton’s head dipped as she stepped around the desk. “If you’ll wait for me in the foyer, I would like a private word with the baron.”

  Garrett hesitated for only a moment before nodding and leaving the room. It did not escape her notice that he left the door open.

  Payton walked slowly across the room, gathering her thoughts, and pushed the portal closed.