To Con a Gentleman (Dalton Family 1)

“Well, for starters I’ve brought you here.” He gestured to the view ahead of them. “I know it’s not quite the same as learning your name but it is somewhere that’s special to me that no other soul—besides you—in the world knows about.” Her lips tugged into a soft smile as she looked from him back toward the horizon. She took a deep breath and looked out over the world as if she were seeing its meaning for the first time, savoring the significance of it all. The surrounding view was incredible, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the face of the woman beside him.

His stomach knotted with anticipation and dread at his next words. “And now, I give you permission to ask me anything you’ve ever wanted to know about me.” He knew what she would ask. There was not one part of him that wanted to utter the words, but it was time she knew. Without a doubt, he had fallen in love with this woman. With Rose. She deserved to know the ghosts that haunted him.

Chapter 26

Should she ask him? Carver, the mysterious earl, sat beside her and basically gave her a key to any secret he kept locked away. But it didn’t feel right to ask him. Especially since he was only letting her ask because of her name slip earlier. Yes, her name was deeply personal to her, but the more she thought on it through the day, the more she realized she was happy that Carver finally knew it.

She felt almost free for the first time in her adult life. This man had given her the ability to stop trying so hard. To smile. To laugh. To hope. And because life had ingrained certain truths in her mind, she was afraid it would all come at a great cost. All wonderful things did. But it was a price she was now willing to pay. Even knowing that she would be leaving in only a few days, it was still worth it to feel the wonder and freedom of loving someone. She would deal with picking up the pieces later. Right now, she wanted to savor every moment, every smile, every secret they shared.

It probably wasn’t right to ask him. But she had to. She had to know. “Fine, then. I do have a question for you.” He took in a deep breath through his nose and held it. She looked up at him, their eyes meeting. “What…is your favorite dessert.”

The air all rushed from his lungs at once, along with a laugh. “That is what you’ve always wanted to know about me?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “It’s important.”

He smiled and looked down at her from the corner of his eye. “I love a simple chocolate cake.”

She scoffed. “Everyone loves chocolate cake,” and rolled her eyes at his unoriginality. A moment of silence lingered and her hear

t pounded harder and harder until she couldn’t take it anymore and gave into asking what she really wanted to know. “What happened three years ago?”

Carver’s eyes shut tight. It was the exact look someone wore when they had just been shot, or stabbed. His mask had dropped away and Rose could finally see the wound he tried so diligently to keep hidden. Three whole breaths came and went before he said in almost a whisper, “She died.”

Two words. That was all he said, and all she needed to hear to understand. Those two words hung in the air around them feeling heavier, more meaningful, with every passing second. Rose didn’t know to what she Carver referred, but instinctively Rose knew that whoever she had been, the woman had held Carver’s heart.

Rose scooted closer to Carver. She knew he expected her to explode with questions. But she wouldn’t. Rose knew what it was like to lose someone dear. It didn’t matter to her who the woman was or what had happened to her. All that mattered to Rose was that she had died, and her death had left Carver shattered. She couldn’t bring the woman back for him—although she would have if she could—but she could sit here with him and share his pain.

Carver froze as Rose scooted closer. She wrapped both of her arms round one of his arms allowing him to truly appreciate her petite size. Her personality had always made her seem so much taller and more commanding. Here on the rooftop, she seems so small and gentle as she hugged his arm and laid her head against his shoulder. The warmth of her body pressed into him with a new, unfamiliar comfort. He and Claire had never gone through any difficult situations that would have required her comfort.

He waited for more questions to come, but they never did. Rose just sat there and held onto him. His body slowly relaxed into something like peace. Like hope.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his arm. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. Eventually he would tell her more, but tonight, that bit felt like enough.

The silence stretched on until he thought it might end the night. But then she spoke, quiet and with hesitation marking her words. “I…was named after my mother.” Then, he was sure everything changed between them. It would never be the same again—nor did he want it to be. “Her name was Emily Rose Wakefield. She contracted a fever during birth and died the day after I was born.”

Carver shifted his arm out of her grasp so that he could wrap it around her shoulders instead. He pulled her close, unwilling to let her go. She laid her head against his chest as he asked, “Is your middle name Emily?”

“No, it’s Amelia. That was my aunt’s name.” Whatever wall that had stood between them was gone. “She was my papa’s sister, and they were apparently very close.” She paused. “But all of my relations had died by the time I reached five years of age. So I never really knew them.”

“I’m sorry. That must have been terrible.” He couldn’t imagine not knowing his family. Especially his mother. He imagined it would be all that more difficult for a woman to grow up without the guidance and reassurance of a mother. “You said you lost your father when you were ten?” He shouldn’t have asked that. It was unfair of him to ask such a question when he cringed at the thought of answering any more himself.

Rose didn’t seem to mind his questions anymore. If anything, he could feel her lean further into him. “Yes—heart failure. It was so sudden. I had no idea it was coming,” she paused and took a breath. “One moment he was happy and dancing me around our little rented apartment and the next…” her voice shook with emotion, and instead of making her finish the sentence he tugged her in closer and rubbed her arms. She buried her head into his chest and cried. His strong, stubborn, self-sufficient woman, was crying in his arms.

After a minute, she sniffed, righted herself and fiercely swatted away a stream of tears. “It was so long ago, but I still miss him just as much as the day he died.” How frightening life must have been for her to lose the only living relation she knew. Suddenly, her strength and formidable personality made sense to him. “Everything changed for me that day. Papa was only a street merchant, so it wasn’t as if I had lived a luxurious life before, but it had never felt like anything in our life was missing. I never truly knew what hunger was. But after he died, and I was all alone…food suddenly became a luxury. That is until I met Uncle Felix and he and I began running jobs together.”

“Uncle Felix was the accomplice you spoke of?”

She nodded. “Though, he would likely huff and puff if he knew that I had described him as such. But—ever since Papa died, I’ve tried my hardest to not become attached to anyone again. To never truly allow myself to rely on another for support.” He could hear the insecurity in her voice, begging to be understood. “There’s a quiet comfort in knowing that I provide my own food, clothing, and shelter. I’ve worked very hard over the years to learn how to live in this world on my own, and it scares me to put that trust in anyone else.” Those words were for him and he knew it. She paused a moment. “Especially after Papa’s death and seeing how quickly everything can fall apart. It’s just been easier to be on my own. But Uncle Felix,”—she let out a single quiet laugh—“Well…from the moment he met me, he’s refused to let me go.”

Carver had a strong desire to meet this man. To shake his hand and to thank him for caring for Rose, even though he had no right to do such a thing. And Rose would likely shoot him in the head if he did.

“How did you meet him?” he asked, running his fingers gently down the side of her arm.

That brought a beautiful tickling laugh from Rose’s mouth, one he hadn’t heard before. It was innocent and almost childish in a wonderful way. “I tried to steal from him on the street. It was shortly after I had fallen off of that deuced roof and couldn’t climb anymore. So, I tried my hand at pick-pocketing, but I was horrible at it. And little did I know, I was trying to pickpocket from the most notorious thief in London.

To this day I don’t know why he took me under his wing. At the time, he said that I was the most pathetic, clumsy urchin he’d ever seen. He said he would teach me a few things and then send me on my way. But one day turned into a week. And after a week a month. And then we were running jobs together, and he was teaching me everything he knew. Although I’ve sworn that I don’t need him, the truth is that I would be dead without that man. I owe him everything.”

He almost couldn’t believe this woman beside him. All she’d been through. All she’d endured. And she was there with him, not hiding or running away. She was honest and transparent and he felt completely unworthy of her. His heart was whispering—no clawing—at him to open his mouth and let the words out that he’d kept shut away for so long. But his fear was thick and determined to stay. What would she think if he told her all he felt about Claire? It would push her away and he couldn’t risk that.