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.'
'There is nothing singular about my expression, I am sure.' She gave a hurried glance into the mirror above the mantel, checking to see if the time spent behind the tree had disarranged her hair in some obvious way.
Verity was almost bouncing in her chair with excitement. 'Why Miss Price, I do believe you are blushing.'
'I am not. I would never...' But denying it would do no good. It was there in her reflection.
Verity stifled a giggle. 'Turning crimson. Honoria, come see,' she called to her sister, who was passing in the hall. 'Diana is back from her walk in the park. And the air must be particularly fine today. She is positively glowing with good health and high spirits.'
Honoria came into the room and glanced in her direction, and then looked again as though seeing her clearly for the first time. 'Who is he, Diana?'
'There is no one...'
Honoria let out a snort of disgust. 'An assignation. With Mr Dale, no doubt. And I do believe he kissed you. See the look in her eye, Verity? She has been kissed. I am sure of it.'
'Honoria!' Diana's best warning tone fell on deaf ears, for she doubted it could be heard over the sound of Verity's giggles.
Honoria was laughing as well. 'Really Diana. It is not so big a thing. We are happy for you, truly. For it pains us to think that we shall both be married and you will have no one for companionship. Now, tell us. What is it like?'
She looked sternly at the Carlow sisters. 'I have no intention of telling you such things. You will discover all you need to know about them when you are properly affianced.'
'But it was wonderful,' Honoria pressed. 'Was it not?'
And she had to admit, it had been. It was hard not to smile when thinking of it. Although now was the worst time in the world to smile, for it would give the girls the idea that such behaviour was acceptable. So she put on an even more stern expression and changed the subject. 'Never mind that. I wish to know what you know about this.' And she removed the note from her reticule and laid it on the table in front of them.