To Con a Gentleman (Dalton Family 1)

He smiled that breathtaking smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “I’ll come find you later.” And then he was gone.

Rose leaned her head against the wall and attempted to catch her breath and still her racing heart. She smiled and smoothed a hand over the front of her dress before making her way back toward the ballroom. Life was going to be different, but she was feeling more optimistic that Carver would be patient with her as she adjusted. They would find a new normal. A balance between who she had been and who she was becoming.

Before she stepped back through the door of the ballroom, her eye snagged on someone familiar. She froze and took a sharp inhale of breath. There, standing with Miss Gardener, and engaged in a quiet conversation was a familiar man. A tall, boyish looking man. The man she had seen crossing the street in London. It was the Bow Street runner.

Mind spinning, Rose slunk back into the shadows. How had he found her? But the answer was obvious. Miss Gardener must have made good on her word and begun digging into who Rose really was. But how, in so few days? It would certainly explain that villainous smile the woman had given her earlier in the night. Miss Gardener had planned a trap.

But what was it? To lead the runner to her in the middle of the ball, having her ousted as a wanted criminal in front of everyone? Did Miss Gardener really think that Carver would then view her as some sort of hero and wish to marry her instead of Rose? No. Most likely the woman would never reveal that she was the one to have set the runner on her scent. She wouldn’t need to since he had been hunting her these past three years.

Rose’s blood whooshed through her ears as she debated her options. She forced herself to breathe.

She peeked back into the ballroom and spotted Carver on the opposite side of the ballroom. His back was to her as he spoke with his parents and another couple. Her heart sunk. She wouldn’t be able to get his attention and she definitely wouldn’t be able to make it across the ballroom without being seen.

Her eyes scanned the rest of the room, taking a moment to land on each one of Carver’s family members. Elizabeth was smiling and dancing a cotillion with Oliver. Robert and Mary stood together, a little away from everyone else. He smiled fondly at his wife and then kissed her hand as she gently rubbed her hand across her growing midsection. Kate was also laughing and dancing with a young gentleman—no doubt enjoying the freedom of attending her first ball. Everyone was happy.

Rose’s heart broke. She had to leave. There was no doubt in her mind that Carver would have told her to stay. He would have insisted that he and his family would stand by her and help her face whatever storm lay before her. She knew he would be right, which was why she had to leave.

A scandal like she would bring into the family would ruin them—ruin Elizabeth and Kate’s chances of making a suitable match during their Seasons and cause stress and potential harm to Mary’s pregnancy. The duke and duchess’s titles would have been shamed, ridiculed, and bandied about the town. And then there was Carver. Her wonderful loving Carver who deserved every chance of happiness he could find. Not to be tied to a woman as shameful as her. No. Her week was up. It was time to go.

Tears burned her eyes as she took one last look at Carver. His piercing grey eyes were looking around the ballroom for her. She took a step back. And then another. And another until she bumped into a wall. Rose pressed her fingers to her mouth to stifle the sob growing within her and began to run down the hallway.

Chapter 32

“My lord, there is a gentleman in the parlor requesting to see you,” said Henley, pulling Carver to the side of the loud ballroom.

“Did he give his name?” asked Carver.

“Yes, my lord. Mr. Fenton is his name.”

Carver’s brows pulled together as he eyed Henley. “To see me? Are you certain he didn’t wish to see His Grace?” He didn’t recall ever having met a Mr. Fenton.

Henley nodded. “Yes, my lord. He specifically asked for Lord Kensworth.” Odd. What the devil could be so urgent that a man would request an audience with him during his father’s ball? And where was Rose? He hadn’t seen her once since he left her in the hallway.

Even as he threaded his way through the crowded ballroom, his thoughts remained on that incredible kiss. He hadn’t been able to take his mind off it or the beautiful woman he had shared it with. He hadn’t intended to kiss her. But when he found her alone and crying in the hallway, it had felt like the right thing to do. The woman had been stealing his breath all evening. Kissing her felt like coming home. He loved her and could not make her his wife soon enough.

Henley preceded him into the yellow parlor that the family reserved for private audiences. “Lord Kensworth to see you, sir.” Carver stepped into the room and Henley left, closing the door behind him.

Carver eyed the damp, short man before him. Henley had obviously taken his coat and hat already but his snug jacket looked soaked through as well. Apparently, this man had just arrived and was not an invited guest.

“Ah, Kensworth!” said the man. “Seems you and I have some business to discuss. Where is she? No sense trying to pull the wool over my eyes. I know you’ve got her here, so you might as well make a clean breast of it and I promise I won’t be too harsh with you.”

Carver tried to hide the astonishment he felt at the impertinent words that flew out of this little round man’s mouth. Who the devil was he, anyway? And what authority did he have to be harsh with him?

Carver kept his voice level and raised a brow. “It would appear you have the advantage of me, sir. I don’t believe I have ever had the pleasure of making your acquaintance before.”

The man chuckled making his round belly bounce under his brown wet jacket. “Those are some mighty flowery words you’ve got there m’lord, but I’d rather put the civil whiskers away if you don’t mind.” Carver could barely keep his shock from showing on his mouth any longer “I’m Miss Daphney Bellows’ uncle, you see. And as such I demand to know what it is you’ve done with m’niece.”

Carver froze. His first thought was that Rose didn’t have any living family. But then he realized that the man had claimed to be Daphney’s uncle not Rose’s uncle. Realization shot through him.

He advanced toward the man, towering over him and speaking low. Low enough so that if any servants were lurking behind the door, they would not be able to hear his words. “Is it possible, sir, that you are in fact her Uncle Felix?”

The man’s eyes narrowed, making the deep lines around his eyes even more pronounced and his expression skeptical. “How is it you learned that name?”

Carver smiled. “Rose has told me all about you.”

Now it was Felix’s turn to look shocked. The man spoke, this time with a thick Scottish brogue that had conveniently been missing before. “Rosie girl? Told ya her name, did she? Does that mea

n you found her out?”