Paying the Virgin's Price (Regency Silk & Scandal #2)(29)

'Give me?'

'How much do you want?'

'You think you can buy me off, do you? Because I am a Gypsy. Cross my palm with silver, and I will leave you in peace? I have money, Nathan. More than you. All I want is justice. For my family. For myself.'

'Then we want the same thing. My family was treated as unjustly as yours.'

'If your father was innocent.'

'It is always harder to find the guilty than it is to persecute the innocent, as you do.'

The faintest shadow of doubt passed over Beshaley's face. Then he smirked, and the moment was lost. 'If I treat everyone involved equally, than I am reasonably sure that the guilty parties are punished.'

'It is not fair.'

'But very efficient. First, I will finish with you. Miss Price as well, if you claim her for yourself. And then, I will find the rest of your clan. You are not the only living Wardale, you know.'

At the thought of his sisters, alive but in danger, Nate's calm evaporated. 'I do not know if you are mad or merely cold-blooded. But it does not matter. As you value your life, stay away from the women.' He reached for the letter opener on a nearby desk. 'Just now, I was thinking of using this on you, you bastard. But murder is messy and you are not worth the cost of a new carpet. If you are so eager to avenge your father, then do it. But let my blood be enough.' He pushed the knife into the Gypsy's hand. 'Cut out my heart and be done with it, you coward.'

The sudden change in him must have caught Stephano off guard. For he lost control as well, lunging forward, weapon in hand. But before he could strike, his body tightened and he jerked back as suddenly as a dog might when it reached the end of its leash. His arm went wide in a convulsive movement, flinging the letter opener aside. And then he reached up with both hands to cradle his own head. He dropped back into the chair, gasping for breath, and looked up at Nate, through pain-clouded eyes. 'I would if I could, Nathan Wardale. Long ago, I'd have finished you all. But it is not allowed.'

Nathan stood over him, arms folded in satisfaction. The attempt at violence had left his opponent helpless. 'Allowed?' He smiled, for the man in front of him was in such agony that he had not been able to hide the truth. 'I take it, it is not an English law that binds you?'

The Gypsy shook his head gently, as though to move it hurt him. 'You have heard the expression, This hurts me more than it hurts you? Not more, perhaps. While I might laugh as you ruin yourself, to kill you would hurt my poor head more than I can bear.' He lifted his face to stare into the eyes of his old friend. 'Here is your chance to strike, Nathan. I cannot stop you. If you wish, I will move to the flagstones in the hall, to spare your carpet.' Then he laughed. Nate had heard that laugh often. It was the ghastly, hollow sound a man made when he knew he was beaten.

And it made him feel as he did at the game table, when another poor sod had overplayed his hand and left himself open to ruin. He could not manage sympathy, or even mercy. But it filled him with regret at having to play a part in the downfall of another, no matter how deserved that end might be. Nate stared at the suffering man before him, and shook his head. 'I cannot kill you either. I am no more a murderer than my father was. If I can prove that to you, will you leave me and my family in peace?'

'After so many years, what can you prove?'

He did not know. But what harm could it do to try? He had always suspected that Narborough had lied about the crime. But he'd convinced himself that the man was untouchable. If a confrontation now was the only way he might have Diana? Then what choice did he have but to hope? 'I do not know if I will find anything. But I intend to try. After so much time, you can wait a little longer for justice. I request a truce. You may leave here unhindered today, if you promise me two weeks without interference. If I can find evidence to clear my father, then you must go.'

The Gypsy considered. 'In exchange for my life today, you may have fourteen days.'

'And in that time, you will avoid Diana Price?'

Beshaley was still pale, and his brows drew together as though speaking was an effort. 'For two weeks only. But even if I lift the curse and leave you, you must tell her the truth. If you are innocent of blame and as worthy of love as you claim, it will not matter to her.

'If you are guilty, then you will suffer as a guilty man should suffer, knowing the thing you desire most is forever out of reach. And I will have found satisfaction. But whatever you mean to do, Nathan, you must decide in this fortnight. Or at the end of it, I will make the decision for you.' And with that, he rose unsteadily from the chair and left a stunned Nathan alone before the fire.





Diana returned to the house with a smile on her face, glad that neither of the girls was to spoil the joy of it. Just for a moment, what had happened was still her secret. And what a sweet thing it was. But once she saw the girls, it would be over. If they sent the note, then they must know what had happened and she would need to upbraid them for tricking her into committing an indiscretion, even if it was a pleasant one.

She was sure she had guessed correctly. For the moment Verity looked up from her needlework, her face changed from a mildly inquisitive smile to a knowing grin. 'And how was Mr Dale today, Diana?'

She did her best to look stern. 'What would make you think that I saw him, I wonder?'

'The look on your face, of course.'