Page 2 of The Gambler Wagers Her Baron

She wondered who was in her mother’s chambers.

They hadn’t spoken in the long minutes since the woman entered, and Payton wondered if she’d departed as quickly as she came, and Payton just hadn’t heard the squeak of the hinges on the door.

Suddenly, light flooded the interior of her nook, and Payton’s hand rushed to cover her eyes as a single candle blinded her. Her hours in the dark had caused more than aches and pains.

Payton sat numbly, expecting a stern lecture from Marce, or for Sam to haul her from the closet, but the figure, made indistinct by the light, only pulled the door closed and blew out the candle before sinking to the floor next to Payton.

“Whatever are you doing in here?” Ellie leaned close to whisper in her ear.

The tension fled when she realized that it wasn’t one of her siblings come to fetch her, but her dearest, bosom friend. As her eyes adjusted to the dark once more, Payton noted Ellie’s hallmark red hair, hanging loosely about her shoulders.

“It is dreadfully cold in here,” Ellie continued. “I arrived a few minutes ago, and Jude said she hadn’t seen you in some time. Mentioned you hadn’t been seen in the dining hall.” The girl giggled before continuing. “They are all inept, aren’t they?”

“What does inept mean?” Payton hissed.

“Oh, it is what my father calls me when I’ve spilt my milk or sullied a new dress,” Ellie said with a shrug. “Last week, he misplaced his jeweled letter opener, and I called him inept. He turned as red as a beet.”

“Ellie, you mustn’t say such things to him,” Payton argued. “You know how he—”

“Do not fret, I ran quickly, and he’d already had far too much to drink for a chase.” Ellie’s eyes lit with mischief, clear even in the darkened closet. “Besides, I took the bloody opener.”

Payton shook her head as concern for her friend’s well-being welled within her.

“Now, why are we hiding in the hall closet?” Ellie asked, keeping her tone low.

“It is my mother,” Payton confessed. “Something is amiss, and no one will tell me what.”

The scraping of a chair across the scarred, wooden floor drew both of their attention as Payton listened closely. She could see in her mind’s eye as the chair from close to the hearth was dragged toward her mother’s bed.

It was evening time, what was her mother still doing abed?

The creak of bed ropes had Payton’s heart beating so erratically, it echoed in her head. Thankfully, she was no longer cold.

She moved to press her ear to the wall, and Ellie followed suit.

“What are we hoping to hear?” Ellie whispered.

“Shhhhh.” She held her finger to her lips as Marce’s voice sounded in the other room.

Was she crying? Her eldest sister never cried. She lectured, she commanded, she rebuffed. But never had Payton heard Marce cry.

“…Mother, I cannot do this without you,” Marce said.

“What will she need to do without your mother?” Ellie asked before falling silent once more.

“What will I do with the children?” Her sister’s voice rose with concern.

“You—will—care—for them as—you always—have.” Her mother’s words were strained as if she were in pain. Perhaps she was hungry, as Payton was. “Keep them together—always.”

“But I am not old—”

“You are eighteen, my child.” Her mother coughed, and Payton heard several gulps, and the sound of a glass being set back on the table at her mother’s bedside. “Remember, you will—move on from this. You, and your siblings will be—strong for your loss. If you keep moving forward—things will be better. Do not give up, Marce.”

“What if I fail?” her sister pleaded. It was the first time Marce had ever sounded less than confident. “What if I cannot find the means to support us all?”

“Julian—he has promised to help you,” her mother’s labored breathing could be heard as if she were in the closet with Payton and Ellie. “As long as you—look to the future—always think about that, you will—do well—by all of them. With time, and distance, they will not miss—me.”

“Payton,”—Ellie set her hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently—“do you think…?”