Suddenly, it was clear to him how hard it must be for her to come to him and how fearful she must be that her married life would be a repeat of her mother's.
And he knew he was standing at a crossroads. He could keep the life he had known and spend the rest of it financially safe at the tables he detested. And he would spend his nights alone. Or he could go with Diana today, into the unknown, with no guess as to how he would make a living for her, if the money he had was not enough for a family. Did he have skills, beyond cards and dice? He knew he was not a sailor. And he could not be an earl. But other than that, he had no idea who or what he might be. Until he found his way in the world again, every day would be a gamble.
But then, he had always been a gambler. He smiled. 'This building has been more church to me than any other, for many years. When I am at the table, though I might bluff, I do not lie, I do not cheat, and I never welsh on a bet. If you win, I will walk away from here and I swear there will be no returning.'
She shook her head ruefully. And then she smiled, and reached for the cards. 'Very well then. It is a game of chance, after all. There is no guarantee of the outcome. And you are said to be very lucky. Let us see how the play goes.'
He looked down at his hand and knew that he could make nothing of it, and felt the swelling sense of relief that ultimate failure would give to him. 'I think I am very lucky indeed.'
She looked down at her own cards, and did nothing to disguise the little moue of surprise on her face that he might have used to his advantage had he thought himself up to bluffing her. The play continued, and as she had with the previous hands, she beat him easily. She stared at the note on the table and blinked up at him in shock. 'I won.'
'You did.' He grinned at her, feeling a lightness of spirit that had been missing since childhood, as though some great burden had been lifted from his back.
'But does that mean...do you still wish...' Poor, sweet, sensible Diana was at a loss.
'Very much so. Miss Price, would you do the honour of accepting my offer? You would make me a very happy man. And I will do everything in my power to be the husband you might wish.' He stood up from the table and came to her side, offering his hand to her.
'I...I...Yes. I accept.' She was still looking at the cards, and then at him, as though the suddenness of it was quite overcoming her.
So he pulled her out of her chair and close into his arms. And then he kissed her. Gently at first, and then slowly, ardently, passionately. And he felt her kiss him back, first with hesitance and then as she had on the night they'd been together, as though she did not wish the moment to end. When they parted, she looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye. 'Mr Wardale, really. We are in a public place. This is most improper.'
He laughed. 'The place is most improper as well, Miss Price. My actions suit my environment. But if you wish to remove me from it, then perhaps my behaviour will moderate. Come, let us re-enter polite society. If you wish, I shall become the sort of lacklustre, milksop who would never dare to take you in his arms and kiss you senseless.'
She reached down to the table and scooped her winnings into her reticule. And as an afterthought, took his marker, folded it carefully and tucked it down the bodice of her dress. 'I should certainly hope not, Mr Wardale. For both our sakes.' And then she smiled. 'We have much to talk of. There is the matter of Nell, for instance.'
He smiled back, puzzled. 'And who might that be?'
She seemed surprised at his reaction, and then said, 'Perhaps you know her as Helena, although she does not favour that name.
'Helena?' His mind clouded for a moment, with distant memories. 'How could you know her? Or what she favours? I swear, I have said nothing.'
She touched his arm, and leaned close to him, whispering in his ear. 'She is safe and well. Married to a dear friend of mine. Although a full reconciliation might be difficult, given recent events. But considering what has transpired between us, anything is possible, is it not?'
'My sister, found safe?' He took a breath, and steadied himself as a feeling of relief hit him that nearly knocked him from his feet.
'There is much I need to explain,' she rushed to tell him. 'And I am sorry to have kept it a secret. For I knew how important it is to you. But for a time, I wanted you to be hurt, and then... It is all so very complicated...'
He stopped the words with a kiss. 'Do not trouble yourself. I am the last person to berate you for withholding a difficult truth from me.' He kissed her again. 'If Helena is safe, that scrap of knowledge is a gift. You can tell me the rest in good time. But we will have all the time in the world, soon enough. Marry me, Diana Price, and I shall truly be the luckiest man in England.'
Nate glanced up at the shadowy figure standing near the door and put a protective arm around his bride-to-be.
The Gypsy stared back at him, dark eyes unreadable. And then, he gave the smallest nod of approval, a shrug and a gesture that might have been a salute of farewell. And he was gone.
Epilogue