And the hearts. Her breath caught in her throat. The hearts were her. She was sure of it. The likeness was not expert. But there she was, in her old bedroom, reading a book, with hearts floating around her like memories. And here on the five was the bonnet she had worn on her visits to Hyde Park, with hearts hidden amongst its flowers. On the ten, her hand was outstretched, to hold one of the hearts in her palm.
And as she looked at it, the conviction grew in her that it was his heart she held. If he'd said it to her face, she'd never have believed the words. But when he was alone in his study, with nothing to prove to anyone, what reason would he have to lie?
She cradled the card in her hand for a moment, and then gathered up the deck and thrust it back into the drawer, so that no one would see. It was a precious secret, and deserved to be kept safe. Then she ran out into the hall and called for the butler.
The man came hurrying to her side, probably fearing an emergency, for the tone she was taking. 'Miss Diana?'
'Benton. Where did he go? If I meant to find him...'
'That would not be wise, miss.'
'So few things I have done recently are. But I mean to do it, anyway. Please, tell me, Benton. Where is Nathan Wardale?'
'If he is not here, I expect he is where he always is, Miss Diana. He has returned to the gaming table.'
Chapter Eighteen
Nate stared down at the perfectly arranged cards in front of him, and the shocked expression on the man across the table. Then he gave his usual cold smile and said, 'Another hand?'
'One hand too many, I think.' His opponent gave a shaky laugh. 'I should know better, Nathan. You and your damned luck.' And then he smiled. 'Next week, perhaps?'
Nate smiled and nodded, gathering the stakes into a neat pile before him. 'Perhaps,' he said, relieved the game was over. The man in front of him knew when to push himself away from the table, and might return as a diversion. Or he might not. But he would not reappear with a driving need to avenge himself or with a score to settle. Would that there were more like him, for Nate could take tonight's winnings in good conscience.
As soon as the chair was empty, another man seated himself. Nate looked up to see the Gypsy, darkening the table again. He smirked. 'And who are we today, then? Hebden? Or Beshaley?'
'As you prefer.' The Gypsy gave a bare nod of acknowledgement.
'I prefer that you leave. Both of you. But if you must stay, then let us play for something that has value to you. I should like to see you suffer, when you lose it.'
'Taking vengeance, Nathan?'
'If I can.'
'And how did your meeting with Keddinton go?'
'Just as you suspected. He was not impressed with the evidence, and had no real desire to help me. He expected me to work for him, as a matter of fact, in further smearing my father's name. I mean to take matters into my own hands, to go after George Carlow, once Diana is forever safely out of that house.'
'Revenge is not an easy course. I speak from experience when I tell you it takes as much from the wronged as it does from the cause.'
'Fine words from you, Beshaley. And meaningless. You speak as if you care for my future, after all you have done to me.'
The Gypsy gave him almost a clinical examination, as though he could see the spirit as well as the body. 'Nothing has changed then? Your luck holds?'
'As it always does,' Nate said. 'No thanks to you and your kind.'
'So the curse did not break.' The Gypsy seemed surprised at this.
'Did you think it would?'
'As a matter of fact, I did.'
Nate frowned. 'Perhaps the luck was my own then, and this has all been nonsense. If so, I hope you are through with me, for I have no wish to part from it. I should think, taking the father, the family, the house and the girl would be enough to satisfy your mother. You have ruined the better part of my life and left me with no hope for the future. Leave me the cards at least.'
The Gypsy held out his hands in a gesture of finality. 'For my part, you have paid enough. You are released in any way I can release you. What is left, lucky or unlucky, is up to you.'
'Too little and too late. But it is something, I suppose.'
They played in silence for a while, and the stack of coins in front of Nate became larger. Then he said, 'And what of you? Are there others who will receive your gift?'
The Gypsy rubbed his temple, as though his head ached. 'Unfortunately, yes. While this business may be through for you, it is far from done for me. Until then?' He shrugged. 'The shadow moves where the sun commands. I will go where fate leads me. And it will be done when it is done.'
'And if you find proof that Narborough knew of my father's innocence?'
'Then he is my father's murderer. Despite what you may think, his debt to me is greater than to you. It will end in blood.'
'If you can prove George Carlow's hand in this, tell me of it. We will finish him together.'
The Gypsy's mouth quirked. 'Together, as friends?'
'To call you friend goes too far, after what you have done. Ally, perhaps. Let us say we have a common goal.'
Stephano raised his glass. 'To honour and justice for our families.'