Sweet Deception Regency 07 - The Divided Hearts (12 page)

Judith fought to recover her composure.
“Well, Master Bellingham, I have yet to see the place.”

“Allow me to show you around,” Nate said
extending his arm.

Judith groaned, staring daggers at her
father who stood beyond Nate grinning like some great looby. With a
sinking heart, she realized that, if she were to enjoy her horse
buying expedition, she would have to take things into her own
hands. She fixed an expression of pained resignation on her face as
she looked up into Nate’s vacuous blue eyes.

“Thank you just the same,” she cooed.
“Father and I are waiting for the owner.”

“But, Lady Judith, I am the owner.”

“The Devil you say!” Judith blurted, then
clapped her hands over her mouth in horror.

Simon’s shout of laughter earned him a
narrow-eyed glare from his daughter that boded little good. Once
more Judith could feel the flush suffusing her cheeks and closed
her eyes as though in pain. Opening them cautiously she peered up
at Nate, feeling twice as guilty as he smiled down at her, much
like a puppy awaiting a pat of approval.

“Father didn’t tell me,” she said, her voice
soft with embarrassment.

Nate liked the fact that the girl was
discomfited. He could understand that she was surprised that he was
the owner of the establishment for he had given her little
indication that he had interests beyond his immediate pleasures.
However her distress was genuine as she thought she had hurt his
feelings. If that were so perhaps he had misjudged the girl. With
her pinked cheeks and hastily lowered eyes, Nate could find no
resemblance to the conniving social climber that he had believed
her to be. Perhaps like himself, she was not what she had appeared
to be, although he was honest enough with himself to suspect that
he was only making excuses because of his own interest in the
beautiful golden-eyed woman.

“It is of no consequence, Lady Judith,” Nate
said, extending his arm once again. “Allow me to show you
around.”

Judith placed her gloved hand on his sleeve,
wondering how she could look the man in the face after such a
gauche remark. She was silent as he led her across the cobblestoned
yard, trailed by Simon and Patrick.

“Never fear, Simon,” Nate called over his
shoulder. “My cook has been in a frenzy all morning preparing tasty
items to tempt the palate of her favorite guest.”

“I’ll admit, my boy, a drive of such
distance makes a man peckish indeed.” Simon’s chuckle rumbled
cheerfully. “But I had faith in the fact you have never stinted on
your hospitality.”

“Perhaps, Lady Judith, you would like a tour
of my establishment and a look at some of the bloodstock before we
get down to finding a suitable horse for you?” Nate asked as he
opened the oak doors leading into one of a line of stables.

“I’d like that very much,” Judith answered,
smiling into Nate’s handsome face.

Her voice was muted as she faced a seemingly
endless row of horse stalls on either side of the gleaming wooden
corridor. Everywhere she looked there was shining brass and
polished wood. High up on the outside wall of each stall there was
a fan-shaped window, dust motes floating gossamer-like in the beams
of sunlight. Unlike many stables Judith did not find the air
claustrophobic; the building was obviously well ventilated. The
wood absorbed the normal clamor of a busy operation, although soft
whickerings and gentle blowing sounds combined with the crisp
rustling of hay as the occupants moved around their stalls. Judith
was impressed by the functional quality of the layout which did
nothing to diminish the overall beauty of the building.

Nate led the way along the bank of stalls,
stopping to tick off the lineage or to caress an extended velvety
muzzle. For Judith, it was as though the man she had previously
known had disappeared, leaving a charming and intelligent stranger
in his place. There was no way that Nate could have been conversant
with the stud farm to such an extent unless he were involved in the
day-to-day details. Listening to him as he continued their tour,
convinced Judith that she had seriously misread his character. Why
on earth did Nate affect such a shallow appearance? He was totally
engaging when he was behaving naturally. She had never seen any
sign of a lack of self-confidence in the man so why did he play the
fop?

“Would you like me to bring him out?” Nate’s
question broke into Judith’s thoughts and once again she was
covered in confusion.

“I’m afraid I was wool gathering,” she
confessed. “There are so many beautiful horses and I must admit I
am bedazzled.”

“I’m delighted if Tregonwell meets with your
approval, Lady Judith.”

Nate’s deep voice held a current of warmth
that caused strange sensations to stir in Judith’s chest. He was
staring down at her, a light of appreciation shining in his eyes.
Looking around she noticed that her father and Patrick had moved on
to another stall, leaving her alone with Nate. She was aware of his
tanned hand, so close to her shoulder where she leaned against the
box.

Judith could feel a wave of color wash up
into her cheeks and wondered at the man’s ability to so fluster
her. After several seasons in London, she thought there was little
that could make her blush. Lecturing herself for behaving like the
veriest schoolgirl, she forced herself to look up into Nathanael’s
face and was caught by the flare of passion blazing in his cobalt
eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and she took to step
backward. The heel of her riding boot caught in the hem of her
skirt and she swayed.

Nate caught her as she stumbled, his hand
burning the cloth on her arm. She swayed toward him and he raised
his other hand to steady her. For one unconscionable moment, Judith
gave in to a maddening desire to feel the man’s arms around her.
She leaned in to the near embrace, reveling in the sweet jolt of
electricity that pierced her as she came to rest on his chest. The
sounds of the stable faded around her and she relaxed against him
until she felt a shudder pass through the frame of the man. Strong
hands eased her upright and she returned to her senses.

“Are you all right, Lady Judith?” Nate
asked, his voice sounding harsh to Judith’s ears.

“Forgive me, Nathanael,” she said, dropping
her head and fussing with her skirt to cover her embarrassment. “My
heel was caught in my habit. Thank you for rescuing me.”

Nate hesitated before he responded, all too
conscious of the woman who had been in his arms. He was alarmed at
the raw shaft of passion that had arced through him when he touched
her. Staring down into her face, he had wanted to cover those
pouting lips with his own. His hands had ached to mold her body to
his own, pressing her from chest to thigh in a knowing embrace. He
did not know what had caused her to stumble, but in his anger at
his own arousal, he wondered if she had deliberately set out to
enflame his senses. If so, she had succeeded well beyond her
wildest imaginings. He must be on his guard. He must remember that
she was, after all, an Englishwoman.

“I’m glad that I could be of use, milady,”
Nate said, striving for a normal tone. “We at Tregonwell offer
prompt and obedient service to damsels in distress.”

Nate’s braying laughter put period to the
strange compulsion that had overcome Judith. She brushed at her
skirts, mortified at Nate’s continued scrutiny.

“Is Tregonwell a family name, Nathanael?”
Judith asked, desperate to turn his attention away from her.

“That I fear was my father’s fancy.” Nate’s
teeth flashed in a wide grin. “Father wanted the stud to be
considered first stare in quality. Tregonwell Frampton was one of
Charles the Second’s trainers and highly respected in England.
Under William the Third, he was appointed keeper of the Royal
Running Horses.”

“I must claim ignorance on that point of
history,” Judith said, shaking her head in feigned guilt.

“For the most part I suspect you are not
alone,” Nate said. “The horse-mad set would remember, of course.
But in my father’s day there was a much stronger English influence
than today. When he first came here London was still considered the
hub of all civilization. Many of the original settlers were younger
sons. There were strong ties to the mother country. Names here in
America frequently mirrored names of towns in England. Our own
city, some say, was named for Newport on the Isle of Wight.”

“Despite the war, it seems to me that the
English influence is still strong.”

“In Newport many cling to the old life. For
some mothers, it is the sole aim of their life to arrange a
marriage between their delicately-nurtured offspring and some
titled English lord.” Nate’s voice hardened on the last words as he
was reminded anew of his suspicions concerning the young woman at
his side. Looking down he could find no sense of guilt written on
her upturned features but he found the mood of gentle sharing
broken.

“Oh, Judith, come and see,” Patrick
whispered, tugging on her skirt.

Pulled along by the eager boy, Judith smiled
an apology back at Nate. She was surprised to see his face set in a
brown study. He curtly nodded his head and followed them to one of
the stalls close to the outside doorway. Looking inside, Judith
chuckled at the fat little pony with the fringe of hair drooping
over his eyes.

“What a little darling,” she exclaimed.

“And guess what? Simon says if I take care
of him, he’s mine.” Patrick’s voice cracked with his struggle to
control his excitement. The boy almost vibrated as he peered over
the door of the stall. “Wait until Roger Finney sees him. He’ll be
green. Why he’ll just…”

Patrick was at a total loss for words as he
contemplated the little pony. He turned a radiant face up to Simon
whose own face was flushed with pleasure. The boy took a step
forward then hesitated but, when Simon opened his arms, Patrick
hurled himself on the older man.

“Perhaps while young Patrick becomes
acquainted with his new friend, we might go inside for some
refreshments.” Nate corralled one of the stable boys, turning
Patrick over to the lad. Then taking Judith’s arm he led the way
outside and up to the house.

“What a sweetheart you are, Father,” Judith
said, catching her father up on her other side.

“I’ll probably live to regret the gesture,”
Simon grumbled. “If Patrick wasn’t the scourge of the town before,
I can imagine the amount of trouble he and that rapscallion Roger
will be able to get into now. Nothing will be safe once they have
transportation.”

Judith could feel the vibrations of Nate’s
laughter along her arm, and joined in. As they entered the house
she was aware of the elegance of her surroundings and wished there
was more time to examine the various rooms. When Nate stood back to
usher them into the dining room, Judith caught her breath at the
beauty of the room.

The paneled walls had been painted a soft
blue, accented at windows and doorways by white fluted framing.
White, built-in corner cupboards were open shelved and topped by
elegant, deeply-carved fluted shells. The ceiling was higher than
normal and the carved coving emphasized the beauty of the
plasterwork. Ornamental swags and garlands wove across the painted
blue ceiling, the shallow relief detail picked out by the
contrasting white paint. The whole effect was one of fanciful
lightness.

The furniture was Chippendale but gracefully
carved rather than richly ornate. The fragile arched legs of the
table and chairs terminated in a stylized version of the
claw-and-ball foot. Bold floral needlework cushions in brilliant
and rich hues should have been overpowering in the refined room but
somehow they appeared the perfect accent.

“What a magnificent room, Nathanael,” Judith
said, turning to the man beside her.

As though he had been waiting for her
approval, he led her to a chair, talking easily about the history
of the house. For Judith there was an unreality to the sumptuous
meal. Her host was the epitome of charm, bent on entertaining them
with stories and anecdotes. But Judith noticed an aloofness to his
glance that told her that he had once more returned to his
artificial pose. There was nothing standoffish in his behavior but
she sensed the absence of the naturalness of his earlier manner. It
was with a feeling of relief that Judith agreed to a tour of the
gardens after lunch.

“My father, as you can imagine, was not an
admirer of General Washington,” Nate said, as he bent to pick a
rose and hand it to Judith with a courtly bow. “However at one time
he visited Mount Vernon and was quite bowled over by the beauty of
the plantings. He prevailed on Philip Bader, Washington’s gardener,
to work out a plan for him to set in place here in Newport.
Father’s total enthusiasm won the old man’s heart and now you see
the product of the two gentlemen’s love of flowers.”

Judith could only marvel as Nate led them
through the garden which even this early was brilliant with spring
flowers. Once more Nate was the charming host, ticking off the
names of plants that Judith did not recognize. The beauty of their
surroundings worked it’s magic but eventually the threesome were
contented to return to the house. They were walking up several
shallow steps to an array of French doors, when Simon stumbled to
his knees.

“Father!” Judith cried.

“Are you all right, Simon?” Nate reached a
hand down to help the older man to his feet.

Halfway up, Simon gasped, doubling over in
pain. “Blast it all, Nate. I’ve thrown my back out.”

With Judith and Nate’s help, Simon staggered
inside the doors which were hastily opened by one of the servants.
With quiet dispatch, Nate soon had the injured man flat on his back
in one of the bedrooms. Simon’s face was pale as he struggled to
get comfortable. His pain-pinched features lightened however when a
footman arrived bearing a decanter of brandy.