Page 77 of The Gambler Wagers Her Baron

Much like…

Betrayal twisted his heart with a vise-like grip as he realized he’d gone nearly an entire day without thinking of Sarah, his loss, and the sorrow laced with despair that always followed.

How had he allowed his pain to lessen and slip away unnoticed? When had he begun to change without even realizing it was happening?

He couldn’t focus on why his mind wandered to Payton nearly as much as it had been absorbed all these years by losing Sarah.

No, the children would be devastated by Payton’s withdrawal, and it was his fault.

This time, he was determined to be there for them instead of shutting himself away in his study.

It was the one lesson he was more than qualified to teach them: people left, and life was full of disappointment, resentment, and anguish. It was a fact of life, and sometimes, there was no rhyme or reason to it all. It hurt. It changed a person. It left loved ones reeling in their wake; questioning their every decision, their every move, their every belief.

Perhaps he was to blame for allowing Payton to become such an integral part of their lives and standing by when she walked away. Since her arrival in his household, she’d been more than simply Joy’s and Abram’s governess; she’d been their constant companion, a friend and confidante. She’d spent countless hours with them in the schoolroom, having meals with them, doing Joy’s hair, and selecting Abram’s clothes.

Thankfully, Abram and Joy had believed his excuses—for now.

Damon had to accept that Payton was gone, as well. It was what she wanted. Which meant he needed to focus his time and energy on something other than the feel of her soft lips against his.

His gaming night…it had been his distraction for years.

Now should prove no different. He would help with the setup and organization alongside his servants. There was also Catherton and his acceptance of the invitation to take up space in his mind.

Mrs. Brown shuffled into the room, much like her husband had shuffled down the hall earlier, collecting their empty plates at the same time she pinned Damon with a sorrowful stare. A look that should have been reserved for his children, but the servant had turned it on him. There had been no witnesses to his kiss with the governess, except a sleeping Joy. No one had invaded their private moments in his study. Was it possible that Payton had spoken of their intimacy with another servant?

It would be wise to speak with the children about Miss Samuels, but he was still at a loss for how to tell them.

Today, he would act as if nothing had changed. Governesses had come and gone, some in quick succession. Miss Samuels was no different.

Damon slipped from Ashford Hall as soon as Mr. Brown had the carriage readied. He’d been able to avoid Joy and Abram the entire day, but when the sun rose anew, and Miss Samuels hadn’t returned, they’d begged him to check on her. He’d been faced with either admitting that she wasn’t returning or bending to the children’s pleas.

It was just before lunch when Damon could resist them no longer and left, though he had no intention of seeking out Payton. She’d been clear that her decision was made, and her fury at his unappreciated meddling with Catherton had also been evident.

He’d had no choice but to throw himself on Flora’s mercy and beg her to assist him in securing a new Ashford governess. When he hadn’t heard back from her, he assumed she’d insist the children were ready to venture outside London for schooling. Surprisingly, Flora had sent a note saying she’d contacted Lady Devonshire, whose younger sister ran a school outside London that professed to training the most skilled governesses. Mayfield Academy. Lady Devonshire insisted that she’d write her sister, Miss Darby with all due haste and have several women journey into town to meet with Damon.

It hadn’t been difficult to convince Flora to host the potential governesses at her home while Damon assessed each.

He was determined not to make the same mistakes he had with Payton.

His children’s next governess would be prim, proper, and above reproach—and of a mature age. Her pedigree didn’t matter overmuch as long as she did not admit to any vices or unsavory habits.

In another stroke of favorable luck, Catherton had sent his RSVP and would attend Damon’s card evening. Things were back under control, and it would only be a matter of time before a new governess was secured, and Damon would convince Catherton to relinquish his quest to discover Payton’s identity.

The journey through town to Flora’s townhouse in St. James’s Square passed in the blink of an eye, and before Damon was aware, he was ushered into the Wittenbottoms’ salon where Flora waited with her lady’s companion, Primrose. Damon hadn’t known of the companion’s existence before he dined with Flora and the children at Wexfector’s.

He suspected that there were other aspects of his sister’s life he was unaware of, just as he kept much from her.

“Good morning, Flora.” He nodded before turning to her companion. “And to you, too, Miss Primrose.”

Flora’s companion hardly noted his greeting, her head bent low as she plied a needle with red thread through sheer white fabric, working on what appeared to be the petals of a rose.

“Damon,” Flora greeted hoarsely as if she hadn’t spoken in some time. “Miss Darby will be arriving any moment. Can I offer you a refreshment before they arrive?”

Miss Primrose set her stitchwork aside and hurried to the tea cart to pour two steaming cups before Damon could respond. She dropped one lump of sugar into each along with a quick pour of milk before returning to hand Flora and him their cups.

“Thank you.” Damon took a nearby chair, selecting it because it did not directly face his sister but the windows at her left, affording him a view of the roof lines across the street where a chimneysweep lugged his pail and broom toward a waiting stack. “And, thank you, Flora, for assisting me.”

“What happened to the dark-haired lass you hired last month?” she asked. He felt, rather than saw, her glare narrowed on him as if she were assessing him for weakness. “She was all the children spoke of the other day. What is her name?” Flora tapped her chin and glanced toward her companion.