To Con a Gentleman (Dalton Family 1)

He set her down. “Do you now? Let me see it.”

Carver, in his nicely fitted black jacket and tan pantaloons, bowed to the little girl with as much honor as he would have bestowed upon a high society matron. The girl blushed and dropped a clumsy, yet endearing, curtsy.

“Very good, my dear! I’m impressed. You’ll be the envy of the ton, I am certain.”

Rose felt her brow creasing more and more after every interaction she witnessed of Carver with his family. He did not seem like a rake. A charming gentleman, yes, but not a rake. However, he had to be. It was widely known that Lord Newburry was a womanizing libertine. Facts do not lie.

But maybe there was another side to this man. A side that wasn’t entirely horrible, and that loved his family and perhaps wanted to be better. Maybe he really did intend to reform his life and do right by Rose and their imaginary child. She felt a pang of remorse. If that was true, should she confess the truth and point him to the woman who truly did need his good intentions?

Carver scooped his niece back up into his arms and gave her all of his attention. The sight of such a tiny, fragile child being held gently in Carver’s gigantic frame filled Rose with an odd longing. One she’d never had before.

“Uncle Carver?”

“Yes, love?”

Oh, come on.

“Are you still sad?”

A crease formed between Carver’s brows as a nervous smile tugged at his lips. “Sad? How could I be sad when I have such a wonderful bundle in my arms?”

“Mama said you might not come because your heart was sad.”

An unmistakable heaviness fell over the room, thick and obtrusive. Carver’s mask slipped, and he did look sad. Rose’s heart pinched at the sight. What had happened to this man to create such a fierce ache inside of him?

He never looked away from his niece, but still Rose felt the need to avert her gaze, afraid that he would not want her to see such raw, exposed emotion. Elizabeth and Kate’s eyes were also downcast. She had done right to look away.

When she glanced back at Carver, she found him looking at her from the corner of his eyes. His face softened as he looked back at his niece and kissed her on the forehead. “Uncle Carver, is much happier now, Janie.” Because of Rose? Or because of little Jane? Or was he just saying that to soothe his niece’s fears? How stupid. Of course he wasn’t happier because of Rose.

All attention turned toward the doorway as another lady entered the room, along with a gentleman at her side. “Oh, there you are, Jane! You are supposed to be getting ready for bed.” The woman was unmistakably Carver’s elder sister. She and Carver shared the exact same shade of light grey eyes and chestnut hair. Lady Hatley—or Mary, as Carver had referred to her during their carriage ride—was also very tall, standing at nearly the same height as her husband, Lord Hatley.

Carver made a show of putting Jane behind his legs. “Jane, you say? That name isn’t ringing a bell.” The little girl giggled behind his legs. Carver shushed her.

“You wouldn’t be teaching my daughter to tell a tale would you?” said Lord Hatley, barely holding back a smile.

“Why shouldn’t I? Every lady needs to know how to tell a good tale now and then.” He winked at Rose so subtly that only she caught it. It made her heart race.

Surely he was referring to the story they had just concocted a moment ago, and not the fact that she was a con woman running a scam? Her chest tightened with fear that perhaps he knew the truth. But if he knew, why hadn’t he said anything?

Never had she felt more mixed up and out of control on a job. Was this man truly a rake? Did he actually intend to marry her? Or was it all a trap? No matter the answer, she had to get out of there.

“Alright, give her up, you rebellious uncle,” said Lady Hatley.

“Absolutely not. I haven’t had the chance yet to teach her how to cheat at cards or win a duel.”

“There is always tomorrow,” Lady Hatley said, holding her hand out for her daughter.

Little Jane came out from behind Carver’s legs with a pouty lip. “I don’t want to go to bed. I want to stay with Uncle Carver.” The girl’s bottom lip trembled.

“Yes, darling, I know, but—” It was then that Lady Hatley turned around and seemed to notice Rose for the first time. “Oh, you must be Miss Bellows.” Her’s was not a pleased sort of tone. Rather, largely skeptical.

“I am, my lady.” Rose curtsied politely. “And you are Lady Hatley if I am not mistaken.”

Her eyebrow twitched up in the exact same way Carver’s did. If the lady were a foot taller, she and Carver could be mistaken for twins. “Could it be that my brother has remembered we exist enough to talk about us while he is away?” At first, Rose thought the woman was angry. But then Lady Hatley tossed a smirk at Carver and Rose realized that not only did she share Carver’s eye color, but his sarcasm as well.

“Only when something annoying occurs and I’m reminded of you,” said Carver with a returning smirk.

Lady Hatley wrinkled her nose at him before turning her attention back to Jane. “Come along, dear. I’ll return you to the nursery. You may play with your uncle tomorrow.” Lady Hatley gave Rose one more look—an unnerving looking—and then she was gone. Rose got the feeling that not everyone was happy about Carver’s sudden engagement.