Paying the Virgin's Price (Regency Silk & Scandal #2)(62)

She nodded. 'Do not insult me. Play the game, as you would against a stranger, and let fortune decide the winner.'

Let fortune decide? He might as well take the house back now and not bother with the game. The last hand had been a fluke and he did not expect another. 'If you will force me to bankrupt another Price at this table, then you do not understand what the last game cost me.'

She looked back at him, her eyes tranquil. 'You will not bankrupt me, because unlike my father, I have the sense to stop playing, once I am satisfied with the results. You will leave me as you found me, with a small savings. Which was not such a bad thing, really. I have been behaving most strangely of late, and I date the change to the moment I opened your first envelope.'

She thought that the money was what wrought the change in her? He had hoped that it was more than that. For it would have been most flattering to think that she had felt changed on the day that they first met, as he had. He sighed. There was no way to leave her as he found her, if she wished honesty from him. And in comparison to that, the money was a small thing. 'If losing the house again is truly what you wish, I am sure another hand will do the trick.' And he bent over his cards in concentration.

And he lost again.

It was not unheard of, to lose two hands in a row. Uncommon for him, of course. But not impossible. She had been right. It was a game of chance. Anything might happen. And he had barely tried, on the first hand, so it should not count against him.

The woman across the table was livid. 'How dare you, sir? You are trifling with my...my...my patience.'

He stared at the cards, which had picked a most unusual time to betray him. 'I am doing nothing of the sort. I was quite fond of that house. If I'd known that the hand would not go my way, I'd have bet something else. My stable. Matched bays, a phaeton and a curricle. All on the table, Miss Price. Please do me the honour of keeping your original stakes. But give me a chance to regain the country house.'

'All or nothing, sir.'

'Damn.'

She drew in a sharp breath at the oath.

'Your pardon, Miss Price.' He glared at her, which probably spoiled the apology for his rudeness in swearing. But the temptation to let her win had dissipated. It was one thing to give up the London house, but to have no home at all was not what he had intended for penance. After all the years he had played here, it galled him to lose it at cards to a green girl. And at Macao, which was hardly worthy of his skill. He had a reputation to consider, and their play had drawn quite a crowd of onlookers. They would not let him forget it, if he cried off now.

But his luck was sure to turn on the next deal, just as it always had. 'All right then. If you insist. My stable against your houses.' He dealt the cards.

As he stared down at the unplayable mess in his hand, he bid a silent goodbye to the horses, and the houses as well. She set down her cards without joy, and called out 'Macao' as though it pained her to say the word. If she must beat him so thoroughly, the least she could do was take joy in it.

He glared at her again. 'Do not dare say that I arranged that for your benefit, Miss Price. It would give me more credit than I deserve.'

She looked up at him, alarmed. 'If not for my benefit, then why is it happening?'

'I have no idea. Deal the cards.'

'Certainly not. This has gone on long enough, and is not working at all the way I planned.' She rose to go.

'Sit!' He said it far too sharply, and she dropped back into her chair as though he'd yanked her into place. He struggled to control his emotions, trying to remember a time when he had been flustered at a gaming table. Embarrassing displays of temper were for his opponents, not for him. He took a deep breath. 'I beg your pardon. Please. Sit. You must give me a chance to break even in the game, at least. Another hand, please.'

She shook her head. 'I suspect that that is what my father said, when he gambled with you. He assumed, until the very last hand, that his luck would turn.'

That was what all his opponents thought. But they did not know what Nate did: There was no hope for any of them to win against him, until the curse was lifted. And this game would not go on much longer. Another hand and things would change in his favour, just as they always had.

Unless...

'Please,' he said urgently. 'One more game, Miss Price. For the sake of my curiosity, if nothing else. The contents of my bank accounts, against all that you have.'

She gave him an amazed smile. 'And what would that leave you, should I win?'

'Very little, I expect.' He grinned at her. 'And it doesn't matter a jot to me.'

'But how shall you live?'

'I shall find someone to stake me, and gamble again with someone else. As long as I have anything left of value, I shall return to the tables and wager it, Miss Price.'

She stared back at him, horrified. 'You are mad, sir.'

'I would have to be, to make my living as a gambler. Once begun, it is almost impossible to stop. But I have not enjoyed it.' He looked at her very seriously. 'The only true happiness I have felt has been most recently. And that, I fear, was a transient thing. It seems the feelings I had for a young lady were not reciprocated. She disapproved of my profession.'

'It is a most disreputable profession.'

'I know that. And I wish, most heartily, to have a provocation to end my gaming, just as your father did. It was only when he had reached the point where he'd lost all and was bartering with precious things he had no business offering, that he realized what he had done and changed his life. And from what you tell me, he was repentant, even to the end.'