Paying the Virgin's Price (Regency Silk & Scandal #2)(60)

'You have decided to use your real name, then?' Her lips formed what might almost have been a smile of approval.

He nodded. 'It is time, don't you think? In the end, the alias proved to be more bother than it was worth.'

'What of your troubles with the Navy?'

'I mean to see to it that they are the Navy's troubles with me. They took me unjustly. They must acknowledge the fact.'

She nodded. 'It pleases me to see you are ready to face your past.'

And what good did it do him, that she was pleased? 'I assure you, it is hardly a magical transformation of my character. No matter my opinions on the past, the present is likely to stay just as it is.' He gestured around the room to remind her of their surroundings. 'I did not expect to see you again, certainly not in such a place as this. I trust that you will not think it a breach of my promise to leave you in peace. I will quit the city, if my presence in it is a problem for you.'

'No. No, of course not. That will not be necessary. It is a very big city, is it not?' She sat down at the empty seat across from him, fussing with her skirts. She was wearing the green silk dress that she had worn to seduce him; he wondered if that had meaning or was merely her attempt to blend with the gaudiness of the surroundings.

She leaned forward, almost confidentially. And he doubted, from the innocent look in her eyes, that she realized what a fascinating thing it did to her decollete. 'There is more than enough room in London for the two of us.'

The two of them. If for once his life had turned out the way he wished, they would have needed very little space at all. He stared fixedly back at her, reminding himself that a gaming table was no place to show emotion. He looked directly into her eyes, waiting for her to speak.

Then, without a word, she removed a wad of folded bills from her reticule and set them upon the table, pushing them to his side. 'I believe these are yours.'

'Not any more. At one time, they belonged to your father. I no longer wish to retain them.'

Her returning smile to him was surprisingly cynical. 'If you meant to repay what my father lost to you, then it is not enough.'

He shrugged. 'There were expenses.' Then he pushed his night's winnings towards her across the table. 'If you wish more, then take. Or I can write you a bank draft.'

'That is not why I am here. I come to return what you have given me, for it was fairly won.' She reached deeper into the purse and removed the deed. 'And this as well.'

'It is yours.'

'Was mine. My father's actually. In the distant past. But it has not been in the family for some time.'

'How fortunate that you have it again,' he said, pretending that the matter did not concern him.

'I no longer wish it. That is why I have been trying to return it to you.' She was staring back at him, her kissable mouth fixed in a resolute chaperone's smile.

'Nor do I. That is why I will not take it back.'

'I understand what you are trying to do by returning it to me. But you do not have to. It is kind of you to wish a different life for me than the one I had, but it is too late. While you might learn to live with it, you cannot change the past, Nathan.'

She had called him Nathan. The other words in the sentence paled to insignificance, leaving only the sweet tone of her voice and the sound of his name. For a moment, it gave him some small bit of hope. 'If there is some way to soften the memory of them, I wish to try. Or to make you forget altogether.' He frowned. 'Although there are some things, one night in particular, that I wish you to remember in every detail.'

There was not a trace of blush upon her cheek to reveal that she understood him. Perhaps she had lost the ability, after the previous evening's activities. Or maybe it was a sign of rare composure and her ability to maintain an even keel, though the waters were rough.

She ignored his hint and went on. 'Your life was more difficult than mine, and you have been less content. There is much I would not change. More than one night, certainly. It does not do to put too much emphasis on the actions of a single day, whether they be good or bad.'

Did she mean their night together? Or his night at the tables with her father? Or perhaps both. For then she said, 'Whatever the past between us, giving me the house and the money means nothing. They are not what matters. They do not indicate whether a person's character is changed or constant.' She pushed them back across the table.

He glanced at the papers and gave a shudder of revulsion at the sight of the deed lying in front of him on the baize where it had been so many years before. 'My character has changed for the better from what it once was. If the change is insufficient and you do not like it as it is, then I am sorry. And if you do not believe me to be constant, then tell me what I can do to prove it to you.'

'You certainly do not need to do--' she waved a hand over the deed '--this.'

'And yet, I have.' Her stubbornness over the thing made his head ache, and he wished that she would take it and leave him with what little peace he had, instead of coming to give him a fresh reminder of how unsuitable he was. 'I will not take it back. I wish I had given it to you on the first day, the moment I realized who you were. It and the damned letter, and anything else I could think to give. And then I could have walked away from you before speaking a word, with a clear conscience.'

And that had an effect on her, at last. Her eyes grew round with shock and hurt. He could not help himself and hurried to soften the blow. 'Do not misunderstand. My acquaintance with you was pleasant. More than pleasant. But it was a mistake. For now it hurts me to think of even the most pleasant moments, knowing they are all in the past. And the association hurt you as well. I could have spared us both so much grief by tearing up your father's note on the night he gave it to me.' He gestured to the money and the deed. 'This is all I have left to give you. Please, remove them from the table. If they are not stakes in a game, they do not belong here.'