Nate took the paper back and stuffed it into his purse so he would not have to see it any more. It still pained him to read those words. ‘He cried when he lost. He begged me for mercy. And I told him that if I ever saw him again, or heard of him frequenting the tables anywhere in London, I would find him and the girl and collect what was owed me. And to his credit, I never saw or heard from him, after that day. I keep the paper to remind me what can happen when a man is pushed too far at the tables. And I have not taken a single marker, since.’
‘How noble of you.’ The Gypsy looked ready to spit in disgust. ‘You are lower than I thought you, Nathan. And after seeing this, I feel considerably less guilty about delivering the rope.’ He pushed it back across the table toward Nate.
Nate stared down at the symbol of disgrace, and in his heart, he agreed. He deserved punishment. But his mouth continued to try to justify the unjustifiable. ‘I thought the girl long married, by now. It has been years. She must know that I am no threat to her. But I went to warn the Carlows of you. And she was there. She is chaperone to Honoria and little Verity. You knew, you bastard. You knew it all along.’
The Gypsy smiled in satisfaction. ‘I knew nothing, other than that I would bring the rope to you, and see what resulted from it. Normally fate is not so swift. By your actions, you have made your own hell. Do not blame me, if today is the day that the devil has come to claim you.’
‘Whether or not you have staged this meeting with the girl, it will be the last one between us. I mean to leave Diana Price alone, just as I have always done. Now take this back.’ He slapped the rope upon the table.
Stephen arched his eyebrows. ‘And what will happen, if I do? Will she vanish in a cloud of smoke? You created the problem, Wardale. You must be the one to solve it.’
‘I can hardly be held to blame for what happened to her father, Stephen. He came to me, and he would not leave. He wanted to gamble. I am a gambler. I never set out to be what I have become. It is all the fault of your mother and your people.’
‘You won someone’s daughter at faro, and it is all my mother’s fault, is it?’
That sounded even more foolish than the rest of it. God knew how mad the rest of his defence would sound. ‘Did you know me for a gamester, before the curse?’
The Gypsy snorted. ‘You were ten years old.’
‘Yet I’d ruined my first man before I could shave. And that is the way it has been, from the very first wager. I am lucky. And it is all because of the curse your mother placed upon me.’
The Gypsy laughed. ‘You believe in luck?’
‘What gambler does not? I cannot claim that skill has brought me all that I have gained. I win far too often to think that it is always by my own abilities.’ He waved a hand in the direction of the faro tables. ‘These tables? All gaffed. Dante cheats. Only a fool would play here. But if you like, I will beat them for you. No matter how much Dante might cheat, he can never beat me.’ He stared at the tables in remorse. ‘No one has ever been this lucky. No one save me. It is not natural. And if I cannot lose? Then to play against others is little better than robbery.’
‘Then stop playing. Or tell them to.’
‘I cannot.’ He gritted his teeth. ‘Every night, I swear I am through. But the next night falls and I come back to the tables. I mean to play until I lose. Not just a hand or a single pass of the dice. When I lose all of it, every last thing I have won, then maybe I will understand how the others have felt. Only then can I stop.’
The Gypsy’s snorts continued, combining into a gale of laughter. ‘First you thought I conjured the Price girl. And now you wish to blame me for your excessive good luck. That is the maddest thing I have heard yet.’
‘You do not believe in your own magic?’
‘I do not have to. Not if you do. I come here with a reminder of your family’s villainy. And you proceed to fill in the rest. In less than a day, you are near to prostrate with guilt. If you want freedom, Nathan, use this rope for the purpose it is intended.’ He held the noose at eye level, until he was sure the meaning was clear, and then tossed it back on the table. ‘Then my doings with your family will be over and you will no longer be able to concern yourself with the families of your victims.’
His self-control was a distant memory, as Nathan felt the long-buried rage burning in him again at the old accusation. ‘My father was hanged for a crime he did not commit. My family has paid more than enough, with that. Take back the curse, Beshaley.’
‘No.’
‘You dirty Gypsy. Take back the curse.’In fury, he reached out and grabbed his former friend by his bad arm, squeezing the bicep.
He had found the injury. Stephano Beshaley went as white as his dark skin would allow, and the pain of the contact brought him out of his chair and to his knees.
Nate was overcome with a shameful glee to see his enemy humbled before him, and he remembered why it was so important to keep one’s emotions out of the game. When one always had the upper hand, it was too easy to take pleasure from the suffering he inflicted. He pushed the anger from his mind, and squeezed again with clinical precision, watching the other’s face contort with pain. ‘Take back the rope. Let me go, and I will release your arm. You have my word.’
The Gypsy took a deep breath, as though he were trying to drive back the pain with the force of his will. Then he raised his shaking white face in defiance. ‘Your father was a coward and a murderer. And you are the sort who would gamble for a girl’s honour. Your word means nothing to me.’
Though the first statement angered him, the last was so true that his grip slackened on his old friend’s arm, and he watched as the colour returned to the man’s face. And in the place of the nothingness inside him, there was now a deep bone-aching remorse. ‘Please. I am sorry. For all of it, Stephen. Let me go.’
And for a moment, the man on his knees before Nathan was plain Stephen Hebden, as hurt and bewildered as Nathan was. ‘I cannot. I am as much a slave to the curse as you are, for I was the one left to administer it. If your father was innocent, then you are already free and what you think is a curse is all your own doing. But if not?’ He shrugged with his one free arm. ‘I can do nothing for you.’
Chapter Four
‘Well, this was a most satisfying afternoon,’ Honoria announced, as they neared the end of their shopping trip to Bond Street. ‘And perhaps next time, we will persuade Diana to buy something for herself.’
‘There is nothing I really need,’ Diana said, as much to persuade herself as the girls. It was always tempting, on these forays, to make a purchase of some sort. But even a small one was an unnecessary indulgence.
‘Then perhaps what you need is to sit down and have an ice. It would be very refreshing, after such a long walk.’ Honoria was looking longingly in the direction of confectionary.
‘The walk was not very long at all, Honoria, and should hardly exhaust you. Exercise, when taken in moderate amounts, is beneficial to health. And I am sure that tea at home will be refreshing
enough.’
‘Sometimes, Diana, you are far too sensible.’
Diana smiled at the accusation. ‘I need to be. Or you would indulge every whim, and grow too plump for your new gown.’
‘Is that the gentleman who called yesterday, Diana?’Verity Carlow was staring in the opposite direction, and making an unladylike effort to point over the stack of parcels she was carrying, at a man on the end of the block. ‘Oh,