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what you think this is for me?'
              'I think you take pleasure in tormenting me. But you have done enough.'
              And there was the ironic smile again. 'You have changed much, in a few short hours. Last night, you said that there was nothing left to hurt you.'
              'And I was wrong. I freely admit it. You have found the one thing.'
              Beshaley laughed. 'I? I found nothing. But apparently you have. And I wish you to get what you deserve from it.'
              'You knew where I would go, when you returned. And you knew that Diana Price would be there, waiting for me.'
              'Who?' The Gypsy seemed honestly puzzled.
              Nate reached into his pocket, and removed the tattered piece of paper that he had carried with him for ten years, like Coleridge's albatross. He set it on the table before his old friend, who read aloud.
              Should I lose the next hand, I pledge in payment my last thing of value. The maidenhead of my daughter, Diana.
              Edgar Price
June 3rd 1804
              Beshaley sneered back at him. 'Just for a moment yesterday, I almost believed you. If you are innocent of any crime, then to carry vengeance to the second generation is to damn myself. But a man who would take such a thing in trade for a gambling debt deserves to suffer all that fate wishes to bring him.'
              Nate glanced around, afraid that the people nearby might hear what he had done in that moment of madness. 'I was young. And foolish. And in my cups. Edgar Price was my first big score, and I was too full of myself and my own success to think of what I might do to others. When I suggested this bet, it was intended as a cruel jest. I'd taken the man's money. And his house, as well. I live there still. He'd bankrupted himself at my table to the point where his only options were debtor's prison or a bullet. And yet, he would not stop playing. Like every gambler, he thought that his luck would change if he played just one more hand. I thought to shock him. To embarrass him. That if I pushed him far enough, he would slink from the table. Instead, he signed this to me.'
              Nate took the paper back and stuffed it into his purse so he would not have to see it any more. It still pained him to read those words. 'He cried when he lost. He begged me for mercy. And I told him that if I ever saw him again, or heard of him frequenting the tables anywhere in London, I would find him and the girl and collect what was owed me. And to his credit, I never saw or heard from him, after that day. I keep the paper to remind me what can happen when a man is pushed too far at the tables. And I have not taken a single marker, since.'
              'How noble of you.' The Gypsy looked ready to spit in disgust. 'You are lower than I thought you, Nathan. And after seeing this, I feel considerably less guilty about delivering the rope.' He pushed it back across the table toward Nate.
              Nate stared down at the symbol of disgrace, and in his heart, he agreed. He deserved punishment. But his mouth continued to try to justify the unjustifiable. 'I thought the girl long married, by now. It has been years. She must know that I am no threat to her. But I went to warn the Carlows of you. And she was there. She is chaperone to Honoria and little Verity. You knew, you bastard. You knew it all along.'
              The Gypsy smiled in satisfaction. 'I knew nothing, other than that I would bring the rope to you, and see what resulted from it. Normally fate is not so swift. By your actions, you have made your own hell. Do not blame me, if today is the day that the devil has come to claim you.'
              'Whether or not you have staged this meeting with the girl, it will be the last one between us. I mean to leave Diana Price alone, just as I have always done. Now take this back.' He slapped