Sweet Deception Regency 07 - The Divided Hearts (2 page)

Even now, Judith was surprised at the speed
with which she had made her decision. A month ago she had written
to her father and then before she could change her mind, she booked
passage on a ship departing later this very week.

“The State of Rhode Island and Providence
Plantations. A jumped-up long name for what sounds to be a stodgy
sort of place,” Letty muttered. “Your own mother couldn’t tolerate
it. As I recollect, she called Newport a backwoods city of
bumpkins.”

“Surely it can’t be as bad as all that.
Besides I’m only going for a visit,” Judith said, laughing at the
woman’s grimace of opprobrium. “I promise you I will do my best not
to enjoy myself.”

“Don’t gammon me, Judith. I make no doubt
that you’ll revel in the adventure. Simon, your father is a fine
man. A brash American, yes, but despite that, or possibly even
because of that, I’m very fond of him. Although I object to any
bird-witted plan that takes you away from England, I think he has
the right of it. Since you cannot go out in society during your
year of mourning, you might as well spend the time in the Americas.
Besides, I’ve noticed a less than enthusiastic embracing of society
of late.” Letty’s gaze was sharp as she stared across at the
girl.

Uncomfortable under the too-discerning eyes
of the older woman, Judith ducked her head, concentrating on the
neat folds she was pleating in her silk skirt. However the dowager
was patient, waiting for the young woman to speak.

“I’m bored,” Judith blurted out. “I see the
same people and do the same things. Have done since my come
out.”

“But, my dear, what would you expect?” Letty
asked in confusion. “Your life is allotted to you at birth. There
is little one can do to change the circumstances.”

“I know this sounds quite totty-headed,”
Judith replied. “I want something more out of life. If only I knew
what. I feel quite useless.”

“Darling child, an unattached woman always
feels useless. It’s as I’ve told you so often. Marriage gives value
to a woman’s life.” Letty shook her head as Judith rolled her eyes
in dismay. “I know what I’m saying, my dear. With age, one sees a
great many things. You are still missing your mother and you need a
change of scene to renew your spirit.”

“Perhaps you’re right. It was just a
momentary twinge of malaise,” Judith said, waving her hand airily.
“Nothing a breath of sea air won’t put to rights,”

“Well, see that when you return you’re
prepared to enter the social whirl with a whole heart,” the old
woman snapped, the warmth of her gaze belying the acerbic tone of
her words. “Unless of course you’d consider a betrothal to my
grandson,” she finished slyly.

“Good heavens, Aunt Letty! You’re not
putting out a shingle as matchmaker?”

“The idea has a certain amount of merit, my
dear,” Letty said. “After all, Nathanael has both background and
breeding. He is well formed, polite and appears to enjoy life.
Financially, the lad would make a good catch.”

“I’ve never even met the man and already
you’re planning to call the banns,” Judith said, throwing up her
hands in exasperation.

“Never mind, child. It was just an
interesting thought that crossed my mind. You needn’t marry
Nathanael unless you’ve a mind to.” Letty laughed at the appalled
expression on Judith’s face. “Since he lives in the same benighted
town as your father, I assume you will become acquainted with him.
For the nonce, all I ask is that you let me know where his
sympathies lie. Unless he plans to take up his duties here in
England, I’m of a mind to leave the bulk of my estate to his
cousin, Roger Fennimore.”

“I’d not wish to do Nathanael out of his
inheritance,” Judith objected.

“You’d not be doing that, my dear. I’d leave
him something because I’m quite fond of the boy. He’s little need
of my blunt. Word has it that he’s rich as Golden Ball,” Letty
said. “Think on it, girl. It’s only fair. Once I’m gone, Roger will
be the head of the line here in England. If Nathanael prefers
America, so be it. But I’ll not have the English branch of the
family run up on tick.”

“I’ll find out what I can, Aunt Letty,”
Judith said, looking less than convinced of the propriety of the
undertaking. “He’ll probably have me shot for an English spy.”

“Give me a kiss, child,” Letty said, her
voice husky with emotion. “I’ll miss watching you lay waste to the
hearts of the gentlemen of the
ton .
Have a safe trip and
give that rascal Simon my love.”

: :

“Cor, Judith, would you look at all the
bleedin’ trees!” the boy shouted as he clung to the railing of the
rolling ship.

“Patrick! Your language!” Judith reproved,
although her eyes crinkled with suppressed laughter. “How on earth
am I ever going to make a gentleman of you?”

“Dunno, ma’am. Might be it’s not worth the
trouble.”

Patrick O’Shea cocked his head sideways to
see what effect his words had on the young woman at his side.
Although her mouth was set in a prim line, her hazel eyes sparkled
in the sunlight. He grinned cheekily and flashed her an audacious
wink. Judith reached across to ruffle the wind-tossed black hair
and her laughter burst forth, floating like music across the busy
harbor.

“What a monstrous child you are,” Judith
said, her voice warm with affection. “I shall have to thrash you
regularly.”

“Nothing but gruel for the likes of me,” the
boy moaned.

In charity with each other, they hung over
the rail, taking in all the novelties as their ship sailed into
Newport harbor. After five weeks at sea, Judith was eager to feel
solid ground under her feet. She glanced at Patrick, her shipboard
companion and friend, who dangled precariously atop the railing.
She bit back a cautioning remark, knowing the ten-year-old was more
agile than most of the sailors. His exuberance was boundless as he
asked questions that she could not answer. All around them was the
bustle of passengers preparing to disembark.

“Look up there on the hill,” Patrick yelled,
pointing out over the water. “It’s a castle.”

Judith held her hand up to shadow her eyes.
“I don’t think America has any castles. At least none that Father
ever mentioned. I’m not sure but I think it might be the old mill.
It used to have great sails but I don’t see any now.”

“Can we go see it?”

“Sometime, but I suspect there will be other
things for us to do today,” Judith answered. “See those long
buildings. They must be the storehouses where they keep all the
goods the ships bring into port.”

“How does the Captain know where to go?”
Patrick asked as the mooring lines were thrown to the wharf. “Do
you suppose he’s been here afore?”

“We’ll ask Simon,” Judith promised.
“Grandfather was a shipbuilder and Father owns several ships, so he
should be able to answer most of your questions. Since you’ll be
staying with us, he’ll have plenty of time to tell you stories
about his ships. Simon’s a wonderful story teller.”

“Are you thinkin’ he’ll mind?” the boy
asked.

“Telling you stories?” Judith was purposely
obtuse, hoping to distract Patrick from his worries.

“ ’Bout my coming to stay with you.”

“Of course not. Besides, I promised your
mother I’d take good care of you.”

A bleakness entered the boy’s eyes at the
mention of his mother, dead after two weeks at sea. Judith had
helped Patrick care for the woman as her health deteriorated with
consumption. His gallantry in the face of such a tragedy wrung
Judith’s heart. As his mother’s life dwindled away, he kept up a
steady stream of smiling chatter, although his eyes held a core of
sadness within their haunted depths. Each night he stroked the
frail skeletal hand of the once lovely woman and sang nursery
rhymes in his reedy boy’s voice until his mother sighed into sleep.
He held her when she coughed, changing the bloody cloths and
pretending that he noticed nothing. At the last, it was Patrick who
closed the glazed blue eyes, his ten-year-old face ancient with
pain.

Judith had never seen Patrick cry. He had
stood stoically clutching her hand as the shrouded body was
committed to the sea. His mouth was pulled tight in a grimace of
pain and his eyes were hollow as he stared into the roiling waves.
Then he shrugged his shoulders and stalked away from the gathered
mourners, a solitary figure against the vastness of the sea. He
mourned privately, returning to Judith’s side when he found life
bearable again.

“It’s all right, Judith.”

Patrick’s voice brought Judith back to the
present and she blinked her eyes to dash away her tears. She
reached out, encircling the thin shoulders in the homespun
suit.

“I’m turning into a watering pot in my old
age,” she said.

“I don’t mind when you talk about Mam. Me
chest gets all tight but I like to remember.”

Judith nodded at the boy’s common sense
words. “It’s funny, Patrick, but that’s just how I feel when I
think about my mother. I’m sorry I didn’t know yours better.”

“She was a good ’un. Not like my Da. He was
a right bloody—sorry, Judith.” Patrick ran his hands through his
hair, his face puckered in concentration. “He wasna a good man. He
was always at the rum. Then he’d beat Mam somethin’ awful. I kept
waiting till I growed stronger so I could take care of her. Most
times it were her what protected me. Two years ago Da fell under a
wagon. They brought him home on a gate.”

“Dead?” Judith asked trying to keep the
horror out of her voice. This was the first time Patrick had spoken
of his early life and she didn’t want to stem the flow of built up
hurt and resentment.

“He was covered in blood, his body all
twisty-like. There was Mam cryin’ and all the neighbors howlin’
like it was some great almighty tragedy.” The boy’s eyes stared out
over the water. His thin fingers gripped the rail, knuckles white
with the pressure.

Judith was awed by the uncompromising anger
of the boy. She wanted to hug him to her but realized he would
accept no comfort at this time. “It was a tragedy, you know,” she
said.

“It were a blessing!” The harsh words were
damning in the child’s voice. He faced her, his face tight with
hate. “Before he died, he said he loved her!”

“That’s the tragedy of it, Patrick.” Judith
held his gaze, refusing to flinch at the disbelief in the blue
eyes. “He probably did love her. Nobody can judge. I used to hate
my father for not loving my mother.”

Patrick blinked, startled by her words. He
moved closer as though his presence could protect her. She smiled
down at him, her soft hand pushing the thatch of black hair away
from his forehead. He felt the tightness in his chest easing as he
absorbed the warmth that shone from her golden hazel eyes.

“When I was your age and yes, my bucko, it
was many, many years ago,” Judith said, her heart swelling as
Patrick’s expression lightened. “I thought my father didn’t love my
mother because they lived apart. It was only when I got older”-she
wrinkled her nose at Patrick’s grin-”I realized that sometimes two
people could be in love and just not be very good together.”

“Did he beat your mother?”

“No, but words can hurt as well as
fists.”

“It’s somethin’ to think on.”

Noting the grudging concession in the voice,
Judith smiled down at the boy. His response was hesitant at first,
the blue eyes crinkled against the glaring sun. Then slowly his
mouth widened into a charming smile.

“I think my father is going to thoroughly
enjoy your company.”

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” Patrick asked
again.

Before the boy could sink once more into
melancholy, Judith disabused him of his fears. “My father loves
children. I think he would have preferred a large family, but that
wasn’t possible what with him in America and mother in
England.”

“How come?”

The question startled Judith. She felt
unequal to discuss such a personal topic. Looking down at the boy’s
ingenuous expression, she caught the light of mischief in the blue
eyes.

“Ah, Patrick, what a wretched child you
are.” Judith giggled and cuffed him on the shoulder. She groaned in
chagrin, wondering how her father would react to the surprise
package she was about to drop on his doorstep. Thinking about it,
she began to chuckle and Patrick joined in, his body shaking with
the force of his guffaws. It was on this note of hilarity that
their ship tied up in Newport Harbor.

“Judith, my dear, you’ve become an absolute
beauty!” Simon Hallowell bellowed as he lifted his daughter off the
ground and whirled her in a breathless bear hug.

She kissed her father’s whiskered cheek,
giggling at how this emotional display must be viewed by the staid
English passengers on the ship. To an outsider, they looked nothing
alike except for their golden-hazel eyes. Where Judith was slightly
built yet gracefully rounded, Simon was large and square and
roughly solid. Her beautifully coiffed sun streaked hair, visible
beneath the black bonnet she wore, contrasted with the wildly
disordered mop of grey-white hair that sprouted atop Simon’s head.
Judith’s face was the petal cream of an English rose; his tanned
face had the coarseness of an American thistle.

“Bloody politics!” Simon shouted as he set
her on the deck. “The first chance you have to visit and I can’t
even have you aboard one of my own ships. Ever since the Nautilis
affair, shipowners fear the English will impress some of their
sailors. I can’t risk my men, even for my only daughter.” Simon
glowered down at Judith, his forehead furrowed in concern. “Hated
to have you traveling on an English ship, but there was nothing for
it. Hope the limeys took good care of you.”

“Everything was fine, Father,” Judith
assured him since he looked belligerent enough to take the ship
apart if she indicated otherwise. “It was a long voyage. We were
lucky that the weather was mild. Once I got my sea legs, I didn’t
feel so confined. It’s lovely to be here at last and I will enjoy
having something beneath my feet that doesn’t buck and
shudder.”