To Con a Gentleman (Dalton Family 1)

“Carver found you.” That was the Duke’s voice. Rose turned her head to the other side of the bed where she found the Duke sitting, poised, with a teacup. He leaned forward and gestured for her to take a sip. The warm liquid burned and soothed her dry, scratchy throat. It felt as if she had not had anything to drink in years.

“A footman notified Henley that you had left during the ball with your valise. Carver went after you immediately, and when Thunder returned without you, he sent a search party out to find you.” Rose’s eyes flashed to the linen in the chair. It was Carver’s cravat. He had saved her. But where was he now?

How stupid and reckless she had been to leave during the night—and in the rain, at that. Rose had been so used to doing everything alone her whole life, that at the time it felt like her only option. But while lying half dead on the ground as cold had seeped into her bones, Rose had decided that she didn’t want to do things alone anymore. And if she somehow made it out of that

situation alive, she would give others the choice to walk with her through life if they chose to.

She decided to start making good on that promise to herself now. “I’m so sorry. I’ve lied to all of you. I’m not Daphney Bellows and I’m certainly not a lady.” A warm tear slipped down her cheek. “I am nothing but a crook. I steal and I scam and I lie, and although I haven’t stolen from you, I have lied about almost everything.” She couldn’t bear to look them in the eyes. Perhaps she was a coward, but the hurt and disappointment she would find was too much to handle, so instead she looked down to her fidgeting fingers.

“I’ve been doing it nearly all my life. It’s how I first met Carver—I thought he was Lord Newburry and…well, none of that matters right now. All you need to know is that I’m not who you thought I was—who I led you to believe I was. And for that, I’m terribly sorry. I hope that you can forgive me, but if you cannot, I don’t blame you.”

She paused for a moment and then remembered one important thing. “And at the ball, I saw a Bow Street runner who has been searching for me for years. That’s why I left…to get out before he found me. But then Thunder spooked at a bolt of lightening and I lost my seat and it hurt too badly to walk on my ankle.” She was getting away from what mattered again.

“But I won’t ask you to hide me,” she said. “If you see fit to tell him where I am, I will willingly hand myself over to him.” There. That was all of it. There was a good chance that Rose was going to be arrested for the declaration, but for some reason, she didn’t mind. She wasn’t hiding anymore, and, finally, being able to admit the truth felt like an odd sort of freedom. To confess it meant that she didn’t have to be that person anymore. She was done with that life.

Rose felt the duchess’s hand press on top of hers. She willed herself to meet the woman’s eyes. The sight stole her breath. The duchess was smiling—tender and warm. Almost unable to believe what she was seeing was real, she looked over to the duke. He too was smiling.

He picked up her other hand and clasped it in his own. “We know all of that, Rose.” He squeezed her hand gently just as Papa used to. “And we also know that you lost your father when you were only a child and were forced to face a harsh world all on your own. We know that you have seen more hardship and pain in your early years than most people see in a lifetime,” he said. “We know that you do not own a warm pair of gloves because you are always giving yours away to children who need them.” How could he know that? She hadn’t even told Carver that she had done that. “Sometimes you go for days without eating because you feel that people around you need the food more than you do. And where most people would keep every penny they stole to ensure their own wellbeing, you give all of yours to the upkeep of an orphanage you opened several years ago.”

Rose pursed her lips and tasted the salt of her tears. “How do you know all of this?”

“Cause I told them.” Rose snapped her head to the door. Her round, jolly Uncle Felix stood framed in the doorway, smiling like an idiot. A joyful chuckle broke free of her mouth. “Turns out when a duke keeps you closeted in his study for an hour, a man tends to spill his whole budget.”

“Uncle Felix!” She let go of the Duke’s hand to stretch it out toward her uncle. He took her hand and pressed it firmly with a kiss. “I was so afraid that I was going to die without getting to tell you how much you mean to me. I’m sorry for trying to push you away for so long. I was scared of losing you like I lost Papa.” She looked down and squeezed his weathered hand. “You’re a good man and a blasted good uncle. And…I love you.”

Uncle Felix’s eyes welled up but his eyebrows shot up to his hair line. “Well lass, you sure know how to put an old man to the blush. But I’m glad to hear you say it because the truth is, I love you like my own girl. Always have.”

She smiled, feeling light and happy and whole for the first time since she was a girl. She looked around the room and her gaze caught the clock on the mantle. She squinted at the time and realized that it was three o’clock in the morning. How long had she been unconscious? And where was that Bow Street runner? She had so many questions and no idea where to start.

But then she thought of someone and a panic rose up within her, “Mary,” she said. “Does she know about all of this?” Carver hadn't wanted any stress to fall on his sister. Had Rose’s emergency put her pregnancy in danger?

The duchess patted her hand. “She knows. And she said that she thanks you and Carver for trying to spare her the worry, but next time to not be such ninnys as to listen to Robert.” The woman chuckled adorably, helping Rose’s stiff body relax against the pillow. “Apparently, she knew something was amiss from the first moment you arrived and decided to look into who you really were,” said the duchess. “She sent a letter into Bow Street, thinking to hire a man to investigate who you were. But instead she found out there was a con woman by the name of Rose Wakefield who perfectly fit your description.

“At first, she thought about having you arrested. But the more she watched you and Carver together, she realized you both really did love each other. She sent a request for the runner to attend the ball so that she and Robert could talk to him and convince them to burn your records.”

Rose’s mind was spinning. Mary was the one who had tipped off the runner? And it was all so that she could clear her name?

“And imagine her surprise,” the duke added, “when she found out that I, too, had already invited our obliging runner to attend the ball and have a private meeting with me after the festivities had ended.”

Rose blinked at the duke, almost unable to believe the family had gone through so much trouble to help her. “Do you mean Miss Gardener hadn’t sent for him to have me arrested?”

“No, my dear,” the duke laughed. “I doubt that Miss Gardener has enough brains to even know how to go about contacting Bow Street.”

“But…I saw them talking,” said Rose.

“Yes,” said the duchess. “I believe our dear Miss Gardener took a bit of a fancy to the handsome young runner who showed up to talk with Charles.”

Rose pushed out a breath and sunk further back into her pillows. There had been absolutely no reason for her to run. These people were not trying to trap her, they were trying to free her. To give her a new start. Rose bit her lip, unwilling to cry anymore.

“And Rose,” said the duke. “I was able to convince the runner to drop his pursuit and burn your records. You don’t have to hide anymore.”

A relief like Rose had never known before swept over her. She tried to hide her eyes with her hands but she could still feel her tears slipping under them. Rose was free. After she had somewhat recovered her embarrassing sob, she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. I don’t deserve any of this. Or any of you.”

The duke smiled and leaned in close as if to share a secret. “Someone once told me that the world is often more gray than black and white. And as such, a person ought to be treated with compassion before justice.” He winked. “I think she was right. And I’m happy to be able to give you a second chance at life, Rose. I hope that this time you will know that you are loved and do not have to go it alone anymore.”

Rose’s smile felt stupid and over-indulgent but she didn’t care. Despite her exhaustion, bruises and near death experience, she felt light. Accepted. Loved. And it was all because of Carver and his family. They had given her hope again.

As Rose looked around the room, she remembered that the most important person in the world to her was missing. “Where is Carver?”