If she were thinking clearly, then she would have told the girls that, if a gentlemen were as rushed into making an offer as they wished for Mr Dale to be, the offer he might make would be one that no proper woman could accept. What must he think of her? He must suspect that she had arranged their private conversation by manipulating the girls, all in an attempt to court him for herself. How would she be able to speak to the man, when next they met, if her head was full of romantic nonsense and his ideas were much more worldly?
She forced her fears into the background and looked at the girls with her most prim and sensible gaze. 'No. I am sorry. The idea does not appeal to me in the least. If this visit with him was arranged for my benefit, then while I thank you for the concern, I can assure you that no further such plans are necessary.' She swallowed hard, and lied. 'I am quite content to remain as I am.'
Chapter Five
Nate went back to his house in Hans Place, with the Carlows' tea sitting uneasily in his stomach. The feelings of disquiet grew with each step towards his home. By the time he had stepped through the front door, it felt as though ants crawled upon his skin.
That was a near one. It had been a misfortune to meet the girl once. But to find her again so soon, after years of avoidance? It was another part of the Gypsy's damn curse, he was sure. As little Verity had been quick to point out to him, now that he had found Diana Price, he was unlikely to get free of her.
The thought flitted across his mind that he had no desire to be free of her. Under better circumstances, he'd have been enjoying the association immensely. And she seemed to enjoy it as well, if there was any meaning to the pretty blush upon her cheek when they'd been left alone.
But then, he had proceeded to make an ass of himself by prying into her personal life and asking questions that no stranger should care about. He had left her with the impression that he was the sort who would make advances towards a vulnerable woman within moments of being alone with her. Damn it to hell, he had only wanted to make up for what he had already done to her. Instead it had sounded like he wished to set her up in an apartment as his ladybird.
Although, once the idea had entered his head, he had to admit that there were advantages to it. If she were so inclined, it would be pure pleasure to watch those eyes widen in pretended shock at his suggestions, only to be lulled into catlike satisfaction when he acted on them. She must realize that the way she pursed those full lips in disapproval at him only made them more tempting. He suspected that, should she fold her arms beneath her high breasts, or place her hands upon those softly rounded hips in a gesture of disapproval, she could easily bring a strong man to his knees.
It was all quite hopeless. Even if she was less than the proper lady he suspected, she was Edgar Price's daughter and therefore the last woman in London he should be wishing to bed. He might pretend to be Nate Dale for a while with her, he supposed. But knowing his luck when away from the gaming tables, it was only a matter of time before Hal or Marc arrived and recognized the man who was courting their sisters' chaperone. Or perhaps he would be the one to let some word slip that would make it clear to Diana Price his true identity.
Until a few days ago, it had been easy enough to think of himself as well and truly Nate Dale, and to think of Nathan Wardale as a distant memory. But now, he could not help but see his current life as a thinly drawn fraud. When the truth came out, he doubted that there were enough words in his vocabulary to talk himself out of the situation.
He looked around, at the entry hall to his house. Although the place had been home to him for almost four years, and he had long ago come to think of it as truly his, suddenly, he felt like an interloper in the home of Diana Price. As he glanced around, he was qualifying everything in his life into two enormous piles: things that he had bought and things that had been in the house when he had won it. Even the servants were Price's, although it had been many years since he had felt any disloyalty. Those who had not wished him as master had quit on the day he'd accepted the deed. But most were content enough, when they realized that the new master could easily meet the back payments on their salaries and manage a raise as well.
He had followed his sudden arrival with an unexpected six-year absence. And in that time, the servants might as well have been sole possessors of the house. The man of business he had retained to pay the bills knew better than to meddle in the mundane details of running it. They had relaxed in the knowledge that the chaos the house had undergone from the previous owner's gambling was at an end. If the new master was also a gambler? Then at least he was a winner. Their positions were secure.