Sweet Deception Regency 07 - The Divided Hearts (6 page)

“Your father, my dear,” Priscilla said,
patting Judith’s arm, “is one of my favorites. For all his bluff
and bluster, he has a silvered tongue when it suits him.”

“In England, Simon was always in demand at
all the soirees. Hostesses vied with each other for his
attendance.” Judith grinned as her father ran a finger around his
suddenly too tight collar.

“They were all hoping that I would commit
some unforgiveable breech of etiquette, thus proving that all
Americans are barbarians.” Simon’s laughter rumbled in his chest as
he continued. “I was always on my mettle. It was fair fatiguing, I
can tell you. I was not cut out to be a social lion. A bear
perhaps, but not a lion.”

Nate threw his head back in a genuine laugh,
deep and rich. Judith tilted her head to the side watching as the
man’s natural smile transformed his face. Suddenly conscious of
Nate’s pleased awareness of her scrutiny, Judith bristled. The
odious man was preening under her scrutiny! Pointedly ignoring him,
she moved closer to her father and tried to concentrate on his
conversation with Priscilla.

“It must be Judith’s choice,” Simon was
saying. He turned beaming a question at her.

“I’m sorry, Father, but I wasn’t attending,”
she said in confusion. “There are so many fascinating things to
see.”

As though the compliment was intended for
him alone, Nate fluffed the lace at his throat and chuckled,
sounding to Judith much like a braying donkey. Rolling her eyes,
she turned to her father who, for some unknown reason, appeared to
be enjoying Nathanael’s idiotic performance. “You were saying,
Father,” Judith said, her voice frigid with disapproval.

“Ah, yes, my dear,” Simon said, fixing his
eyes on his daughter’s stiff little figure. “Priscilla has extended
an invitation for us to join some of her friends this
afternoon.”

“La, sweet child, do say you’ll join us,”
cooed the matron as she placed a gloved hand on Judith’s wrist.

Simon grimaced over the woman’s bonneted
head as Judith tried to extricate her arm from the crushing grip.
Unsure of her father’s intentions, but not wishing to offend,
Judith agreed.

“What a lovely time we’ll have,” Priscilla
gushed. “It’ll be quite a squeeze, but we’ll manage somehow.”

“Good show, Lady Judith,” Nate said, a
fatuous grin lighting his face. “It will be my pleasure to make
sure you enjoy yourself. Nothing too strenuous of course, due to my
injury.”

Nate’s voice dropped to a whisper on the
last word and his face took on a bravely-pained expression as he
extended one muscular leg for Judith’s inspection. She stared at
the limb, noting the taut muscles rippling beneath the satiny
material. Involuntarily she stretched out her hand, snatching it
back in horror as she became aware of her action. Once more she
thought she caught a glimmer of amusement in Nate’s eyes but was
immediately disabused of such a fanciful notion as he continued in
his usual fatuous vein.

“Dreadful accident, Lady Judith,” Nate said,
his dark brows furrowed and his head shaking in remembered agony.
“Quite dreadful! Happened six months ago, right in the height of
the hunting season. I’d set up this topping steeplechase course.
Why everyone declared it was a prodigious masterpiece. The whole of
Newport turned out for the event.” He paused dramatically, looking
down at Judith as though waiting for her to respond to his cue.

“And?” Judith questioned, knowing there was
little need to prod the man. He was eager to relate the incident,
only stopping to insure her attention.

“Well then, lovely lady, there I was, riding
neck or nothing. The weather was perfect, don’t you know. Who would
ever have expected disaster to strike on such a fine day when I was
riding brilliantly? Sailing over every jump, a veritable Pegasus.
Quite ahead of the pack when the tragedy occurred. I know you may
find this hard to believe, Lady Judith, but the blasted horse threw
me on a double oxer. Quite ruined my favorite hunting jacket. Tore
the demmed sleeve beyond repair.”

“And your injury, Master Bellingham?” Judith
asked, her forehead furrowed in question.

“Kind of you to ask, my dear,” Nate said. He
caught her eyes with his before he continued. “Naturally, I got to
my feet fully intending to thrash the ignorant beast. But before I
could lay into him, I stepped in a rabbit hole and twisted my
leg.”

As he told the story, Nate watched the
expressions flit across the girl’s face, a telltale picture of the
thoughts going through her head. Disapproval of his endearment,
anger at his intention to whip his horse and smug amusement at his
anticlimactic defeat. His eyes examined her face, almost a caress,
and he smiled as her eyes widened, her senses awakened in response
to his inspection. She was so close to him that the scent of her
surrounded him with a fresh flowery aroma that caused him to forget
for a moment that others were present. Without thinking, he grasped
her gloved hand, raising it to his lips, but before he could place
a kiss on her wrist, Judith blinked. Snatching her hand away, she
placed it protectively against her breast, covering it for good
measure with her other hand.

“Now, Nathanael, you must behave yourself.”
Priscilla Woodbridge slapped her closed fan against his sleeve,
beaming at the young couple. “I can see, Simon, that your daughter
will be quite an addition to our dull little society. Her visit may
be more of an adventure for you than you’d planned with all the
randy sprigs dogging your doorstoop.”

“Never fear, Priscilla,” Simon boomed,
squeezing Judith’s shoulder in pleasure. “The minx has survived
several London seasons so I suspect that she’ll be able to handle
the young bucks in Newport.”

“Really, Father,” Judith said. “You make me
sound like a veritable war horse.”

“Not a horse, my dear,” Nate’s deep voice
interrupted. “Nothing less than a Pegasus.”

“Oh, Nathanael, you have such a romantic
mind,” Priscilla giggled. “You’ll turn Judith’s head for
certain.”

“
Exactement
!” Nate declared
triumphantly, then leaned confidentially toward the older woman.
“For you see, Priscilla, our charming guest from across the sea has
quite stolen my heart.”

“Why, Master Bellingham, I would never have
suspected you had one,” Judith snapped, exasperated beyond all
measure by the dandy. At the gasp from Mistress Woodbridge, Judith
was brought to a horrified awareness of her own rudeness.

“Devil take it, Simon, your daughter’s
sophisticated repartee will bring a much needed cachet to our
Newport entertainments. We’ve become so provincial, one quite
forgets that witty conversation is the hallmark of English
society.”

For a moment Judith was grateful to Nate for
saving her from an embarrassing social situation. Then bleakly she
realized that the man was so besotted with himself that he couldn’t
even recognize a set down when it was right in front of his
aristocratic nose. Glumly she wondered why she had let herself in
for an afternoon of social tedium and the continued presence of
Nathanael Bellingham.

“How was I to know that you were hoping I’d
turn down the invitation?” Judith asked as the buggy jogged along
the road which meandered up into the hills.

“It’s my fault for not warning you.” Simon’s
face was glum with resignation. “Since the beginning of this war
fever, the city has been split into two camps. There are those
that, despite the war for independence, still favor closer ties
with the mother country. Then there are the majority, or at least I
hope that it is the majority view, who see America as an individual
entity. Should have known that the English set would be on their
high ropes to entertain you first. They consider themselves a touch
above the republican rabble.”

“Will our going to the Woodbridge’s cause
trouble for you?” Judith asked.

“No, my dear,” Simon assured her. “We’re not
at such a pass yet. Things are just a little tense. In some ways it
might be a blessing if war were declared.”

“Oh, Father, don’t even think it!”

“It’s inevitable, puss,” Simon said, his
voice deadly serious. “No point in closing our eyes and ears to
what’s going on. Even after the split with England there were
plenty who wanted to revoke the constitution and go back to a
dependent status. The current situation has just heightened a lot
of political feelings. So far, much is just bar room talk, men’s
club meetings and an infrequent inflammatory broadsheet. The only
voice for moderation is the Palatine.”

“Palatine?” Judith asked.

“He’s a patriot who writes occasionally for
the Newport Mercury. But since local opinion has gotten stronger,
he’s disassociated himself with the newspaper and runs off an
occasional broadsheet which is delivered to each door by the dark
of night.”

“You’re bamming me! That’s like something
from a poor melodrama,” Judith said. She was amused until she took
in Simon’s somber expression.

“Politics are taken very seriously in
America,” Simon remarked, his tone lightly censorious.

“I’m sorry, Father,” Judith apologized. “I
know you’ve always told me that here everyman has a say in
government. It all sounds so far fetched. Who is the Palatine?
Someone from Newport?”

“No one knows.” Simon slapped the reins as
the lead horse pulled toward the side of the road. He was quiet for
several minutes, concentrating on his cattle, and Judith waited for
him to continue. “The English set would have you believe that he is
an outlaw who has committed every crime in Newport. There was a
coach robbery about three months ago and the rumor went around that
Palatine was responsible. He’s blamed if a cow is missing or a fire
started. The patriots are convinced that the English rowdies have
been causing trouble in order to blame it on their hero.”

“And is he a hero, Father?” Judith had no
doubt that Simon thought he was, but since she would be living
among the Newport people she felt she needed to gather as much
information as possible. It was necessary to form some opinions in
order that she might not put a foot wrong. She would be going back
to England but Simon would remain. It would be poor spirited of her
not to try to protect him from any criticism of her actions. “Is he
a hero?” she repeated.

“I think so.” Simon’s answer was quiet but
the words were firm and uttered with great conviction. “He’s not a
rabblerouser. His words remind us of loyalty and commitment. You
can tell that he thinks war will come but he cautions moderation
not violence.”

They were silent as the carriage bumped its
way along the track. Judith looked back towards Newport, aware of
how vulnerable the small town could be. It might be a new
settlement compared to the cities in Europe, but there was a
permanence and tenacity to the way the houses and farms clung to
the hillside and the curve of the bay. Newport characterized the
fresh individuality of America that prohibited its return to a
dominated colony of another country.

“Would you rather we return to town,
Father?” Judith asked. “It’s not necessary to continue to the
Woodbridge party. I’m sure Priscilla would understand. She didn’t
strike me as a bad sort. Bit fluttery, but her eyes were
friendly.”

“She’s a right one, as Timothy would say.
It’s not Priscilla I object to but the gathering which is dominated
by those with English leanings. I’m not normally invited to their
parties, what with my radical politics and patriot affiliations,”
Simon said. His voice was stiff with hauteur as he looked down his
nose at Judith, but his eyes twinkled merrily.

“I suspect the English are not too well
liked. I felt a certain wariness after church this morning, but
everyone was civil to me. For your sake, I would imagine. They’re
all waiting to see which way the cat will jump,” she finished.

“Such a cynic, for one so young,” Simon
remarked, patting her hand with approval. “Hardly what one would
expect from a London miss. You’ve a certain practical outlook on
life that you could not have learned during embroidery lessons with
your mother.”

“It’s your fault, you old fox. Every time
you visited England you showed me a different life than one learns
in a London drawing room. Poor mother. How horrified she would have
been had she any idea of the places we visited.” They chuckled in
remembrance of some of their more exciting adventures. “You were
always like a breath of fresh air, blowing the cobwebs out of my
mind. It made me question much of what I saw around me.”

“Perhaps it would have been better had I
left you alone,” Simon said, staring out across the horses
backs.

“Never think it!” Judith gasped. “I needed
you in my life.”

“It’s not that, my dear, for I’d not trade a
moment of our visits. It’s that I wondered if by showing you the
seamier side of London life, I made you question your own role in
that society.”

“I don’t know, Father,” Judith said,
hesitating as she tried to organize her own thoughts. “Sometimes I
felt apart from the main concerns of the other girls my age but
perhaps because I wanted more out of relationships than most were
willing to give. And of course there was always my abominable
curiosity. Mother reminded me frequently that a proper young lady
does not question. She accepts.”

“Never say!” Simon boomed in amusement. “I
shall have to remember that the next time we get into a
discussion.”

“You, on the other hand, told me that only
an imbecile closed his eyes against the questions in his mind,”
Judith continued, pointing an accusatory finger at her father.
“Every time you visited you showed me a world I’d never
contemplated. Stories of your travels fired my imagination. You
taught me how much more there was to life outside of Almack’s and
Prinny’s court that at times I felt imprisoned.”