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 her 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.
“Payton, I—”
“Damon, I—”
She smiled as the both stumbled over their words.
“What were you doing here tonight?” he asked.
She’d been foolish to think she could—or should—keep the children’s excursion a secret from Damon. What if they attempted something similar again and it did not turn out well? She could never forgive herself.
“The children came to see me,” she confessed.
“Came to see you?” His green eyes clouded with confusion. “I don’t understand. How could they, I mean, even I was unaware of where you lived until a few moments ago.”
She shrugged. “Mr. Brown had me followed one evening—for my safety. Rigby accompanied the children to my home. They were worried because I hadn’t returned.”
Damon averted his eyes, and she took a step toward him.
“They thought me sick, and that we’d had a row.”
“I hadn’t decided how to tell them you weren’t returning,” he admitted.
“They suspected you were lying to them and decided to check on me themselves.” Payton willed him to look at her. “I would have made an excuse for my absence, as well. Besides, I was selfish leaving my position. The children need me far more than I ever suspected.”
“It is not only Joy and Abram who need you. I do, too.”
“But, I saw you…” She stumbled over the words. “You, the children, Lady Wittenbottom, and another woman…I saw you at Wexfector’s. I assumed you were meeting with another governess.”
He took her hands, stopping her from turning away. “I was, begrudgingly, having a meal with my sister and her companion. You said it would do the children well to spend more time outside the townhouse.”
“I did?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, rubbing his finger along the back of her hand. “And I was uncertain what to do with myself—and the children—after everything that had happened between us.”
“That is understandable,” she confessed, her eyes drifting shut as the warmth of his fingers reached through her gloves. “It was the same for me.”
“I had no designs on coming to care for my children’s governess,” he said.
Her breath hitched at his confession. “And I had no plans to remain a governess for any longer than necessary.”
“Allowing myself to care for anyone has been difficult.”
His stark honesty kept her speaking, “I never meant to find a lasting place in your home. I took the position to show my family I could care for myself, but I…”
Admitting her deep affection for Damon—and his children—proved more difficult than anything she’d yet to do in her short life. His forthright words gave her confidence to continue and to hope he wouldn’t push her away again.
“Damon.” She swallowed, glancing down at their joined hands. Only a few short days ago, she would have scoffed at the notion of them standing so close. “I had a plan, and kissing you was not part of it.”
“Kissing anyone was not part of mine,” he retorted.
“What are we to do now?” she asked. He was a baron, and she was his children’s governess, the illegitimate daughter of a blacksmith and an infamous London madame. “I cannot return to my place as Joy’s and Abram’s governess.”
Saying the words aloud should have been freeing, they should have put an end to whatever was happening between them.
She was no more fated to be with Damon than she was to be a governess, just as her mother had known her future did not mean wedding a man who could betray her in the end.
Still, it did not stop her from longing to remain close to Damon—in whatever role she could grasp.
He placed his finger under her chin and lifted her face until their eyes met. “That is something we can both agree on. You cannot return to Ashford Hall as a governess.”
Tears sprang up, threatening to slip down her face at the confirmation she should have been anticipating.