Sweet Deception Regency 07 - The Divided Hearts (9 page)

Away from the English set Nate seemed
another person entirely. He handled Patrick’s exuberance with a
tolerance not possessed by many adults. His conversation with the
boy was good humored, without the bite of sarcasm he had evinced
before in Judith’s presence. As she listened to their chatter,
Judith began to wonder if she had actually misjudged the man.

“You mean the British stayed right in the
town?” Patrick asked.

“Not even forty years ago, lad,” Nate
replied. “It must have been quite a time for Newport. Sometime ask
Simon to take you to see the White Horse Tavern. The British troops
were quartered there during the occupation.”

“We coulda gone there today,” Patrick said,
his voice indicating that he felt it was a far more exciting
adventure than the namby-pamby notion of a picnic.

“Plans are plans, Patrick,” Nate said.
“Besides Lady Judith would much prefer the place we’re going than
the tavern. One must always try to please the ladies.”

“I shall remember that, Master Bellingham.”
Judith smiled at Nate, pleased when he responded in kind. She had
noticed before that, when he smiled natural ly, his face had the
look of a roguish pirate that she found quite compelling.

“What happened to the soldiers?” Patrick
asked, far more interested in war stories than the talk about
ladies.

“The French came and scared off the British.
But until then it was a bad time for Newport.”

“How did your father get on during the war?”
Judith asked. “Your grandmother said his loyalties were with the
British. That can’t have been easy with troops garrisoned in the
town.”

For several moments Nate was silent, his
eyes focused inward as if to recall a time he could have had no way
of remembering. When he spoke his voice was neutral, refusing to
hint at his own feelings or judgments.

“It was a strange war in many respects. The
split from England was in no way embraced whole-heartedly by the
general populace. Everyone had ties to England. Most had family
there. But freedom has always been important in Rhode Island.” He
turned his head, smiling in her direction. “I know this does not
sound like an answer to your question but to understand you need to
know a little background.”

“Fustian, as Father would say,” Judith
replied inelegantly. “I am enjoying my lesson.”

“Roger Williams established a settlement in
what is now Rhode Island. He had originally been in the
Massachusetts Bay Colony but found himself in trouble with the
authorities because of his views on religious freedom. He fled
Massachusetts and settled to the north of Newport. There has always
been a wonderful mix of religions in Rhode Island. It was one of
the first of the colonies to declare its independence. Freedom is a
tradition here.”

As he spoke, Nate looked straight ahead over
the backs of the horses. Judith watched his profile, speculating on
the thoughts behind his words. At times she wondered if his
allegiance were with the English. It was nothing definite, only an
occasional inflection in his voice that she could have mistaken.
She listened to his words, surprised at her own fascination with
the character of this puzzling man.

“Much of the war fervor was centered around
the cities and towns. The farms, unless there was fighting nearby,
were left alone. When the British arrived, my father knew that he
could not remain neutral. To his credit, it appears that he had no
desire to hug the fence line. He wanted to fight for his beliefs.
But he refused to fight friends and neighbors. He sailed with
General Howe when the British retreated from Boston to New York. In
his very first battle, father was captured by the American
forces.”

“Was he injured?” Patrick piped in.

Nate smiled down at the child, perhaps aware
that bloody battles were the stuff of boyish dreams. “He got a ball
through his leg for his troubles.”

“I’m sorry,” Judith said, knowing her own
father had fought in the latter stages of the war and had blessedly
survived unscathed.

“He walked with a limp, which made him a
romantic looking hero. At any rate, he was interned on his word and
returned to the farm. He remained there, I gather, without incident
throughout the war.”

“Was there no resentment?” Judith asked.

“There were too many families split by the
war. They knew where his loyalties lay but he accepted the union
and for most that was the important issue.”

There was silence when he finished speaking,
but it was an easy silence, the adults content to view the passing
scene. Even Patrick held his tongue until the carriage arrived at
the picnic site.

“It’s bleedin’ perfect,” Patrick enthused as
he stared down the hill to the bay and the ocean beyond. At Nate’s
throat clearing, he swung his eyes guiltily to Judith’s face.
“Sorry, Judith. I forgot.”

“A gentleman must at all times remember his
language,” Judith stated primly, accepting Nate’s hand as she
descended from the carriage. She smiled at the merry twinkle in the
man’s eyes and then turned to the chastened boy. “But I can
understand your sentiments.” Her eyes swung to the horizon, taking
in the breathtaking beauty of the area and then she continued.
“After all, Patrick, this spot is bleedin’ perfect.”

“Judith!” Nate and Patrick shouted at the
same time.

“Yes?” Judith questioned, wide-eyed with
innocence.

The three of them giggled like mischievous
children, the laughter bubbling up until their eyes were streaming.
On that note of hilarity, they spread blankets and unpacked the
food baskets that Nate had brought along. Although the May day was
still chill, the sun held enough warmth to keep them comfortable.
They fell on the food, joking between mouthfuls and praising the
quality of Nate’s cook.

After lunch they stood at the edge of the
bluffs, admiring the beautiful bay while Nate answered their
questions.

“What do they call that island?” Patrick
asked, squinting against the sun glare at the crescent shaped
formation at the mouth of the harbor.

“That’s Goat Island,” Nate said. “And before
you ask, no, I don’t know if there are any goats on the island.” At
the boy’s crestfallen expression, a twinkle lit the man’s eyes and
he said. “But once there were pirates.”

“Cor,” Patrick breathed in pure pleasure. “
’Fore God and honest?”

Even Judith had to laugh at the bloodthirsty
look on Patrick’s face. She grinned up at Nathanael, waiting with
as much expectation as the boy for him to continue.

“About a hundred years ago there was a lot
of piracy around these waters. There are islands and coves all
along the bay that were useful hiding places for the pirates. We
were a Crown Colony then and the word came down that something must
be done. At that time pirates were probably living on Goat Island,
if not in Newport itself.” Nate paused, unsure if he was boring his
companions. Two sets of fascinated eyes were trained on him.

“Pray continue,” Judith said eagerly.

“Well, I am not sure this next is for the
ears of delicately raised ladies, but at least consider yourself
warned. Twenty-six of the pirates were hanged at Gravelly Point,”
he said pointing to an area south of Long Wharf. “It was proclaimed
a great entertainment and huge crowds came to watch. Then between
high tide and low, the bodies were buried on the shores of Goat
Island. Some say, that on the nights of the full moon when the tide
is halfway in, you can hear the low moaning of the pirates just
beneath the sand.”

Watching Patrick’s face, Judith realized
that she and Simon would be badgered until they contrived to take
the boy for a visit to Goat Island. She hoped they might be able to
convince him that it would not be necessary to investigate under a
full moon. It was a joy to watch the carefree Patrick as they
walked along the cliffside. It reminded her of his constant
curiosity during the voyage to Newport as he sprang from one find
to another. He investigated several birds’ nests with keen
interest, climbing trees for a more thorough inspection. When Nate
discovered paw prints in a muddy area, the boy was convinced that
at the very least they were on the trail of a very large cat,
possibly even a tiger. Neither adult felt capable of dampening the
boy’s enthusiasm. Judith followed the more adventuresome males,
content to gather the numerous wildflowers that carpeted the
ground. It was when they returned to the blankets for a cooling
drink that she noticed the withdrawn expression of the young boy.
At Judith’s questioning glance, Nate shrugged and handed Patrick a
glass of lemonade before opening a bottle of chilled wine.

Mystified, Judith spread the flowers in her
lap, watching as Patrick gulped the lemonade, his face blank of all
expression. He set the glass down on the plaid blanket, staring at
the profusion of flowers scattered across the sprigged muslin of
Judith’s skirt. He extended his hand, one chubby finger stroking
the petals of one of the blossoms.

“Look at all the flowers, Judith,” Patrick
said, his voice just above a whisper. “I never seed anything like
it in England. I wish Mam coulda seen all this.”

“She’s seeing it all now through you,”
Judith said, aware now of the source of his dejection. “All you
have to do is tell her about everything, because I doubt if she’s
very far away from you.”

“She’s dead just like your ma,” Patrick
said, his eyes suspiciously damp. “She can’t see nothing.”

“Perhaps,” Judith said. “But I like to think
my mother knows what’s happening to me. I can remember when I was a
little girl and I was away from her. I could sometimes feel her
presence. When I’d come home she’d tell me that she’d been thinking
about me and wondering if I was having a good time. So I like to
think that no matter where she is, she’s still wondering about me,
and I talk to her inside my head.”

Judith lightly touched the boy’s hair,
although Nate suspected that she wanted to hug him to her. He was
impressed at the common sense way she spoke, talking to the boy as
though he too were an adult. She didn’t mouth the normal
platitudes, just offered a suggestion that might ease the boy’s
pain.

Patrick was silent as he mulled over
Judith’s words. She waited, seemingly in no hurry for him to digest
the information. His chin trembled for a moment but steadied and he
licked his lips, turning shining eyes up to Judith’s face.

“I’ll give it a go,” he said. Then becoming
aware of Nathanael’s scrutiny, he shrugged to his feet, bracing his
shoulders. “It probably works better for girls, but I’ll do what
you say.”

Nate chuckled as the boy ambled away.
Judith’s mouth widened in a smile as their glances touched. There
was an electric quality that surrounded them as they became more
aware of each other. Judith was the first to drop her eyes.

“It’s very hard to be ten.” Nate’s deep
voice rumbled in amused remembrance.

“Were you a beastly little child?” Judith
asked. She liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corner as though
he were quite accustomed to laughter. His amusement today was far
less caustic than she had previously seen. She felt no bite behind
the words and his laughter was natural, not the affected braying
she had heard before.

“I was the despair of my mother,” he
announced. “My father was convinced that a good thrashing,
delivered occasionally, would keep me in good form. It usually
worked for a day or two and then some other wonderful adventure
would seduce me away from the righteous path.”

“All in all, it sounds as if you were a
normal, mischievous boy.” Judith studied Nate wondering what he had
looked like as a child. Tumbled curls hanging over devilish blue
eyes must have been a devastating combination in a boyish face.
Even with the powdered hair, Nate was an extraordinarily handsome
man.

“How are you liking your visit to Newport?
Is it much different than you expected?” Nate asked.

“You must remember that Father has been
filling my head with visions of America for as long as I can
remember.” Judith narrowed her eyes, staring across the
flower-dotted landscape. “But no matter how much he told me, I was
unprepared for the beauty. It’s raw and untamed; unlike any place
I’ve ever seen. I’m used to neatly hedged fields and patches of
forest. All very controlled, not wild and fierce like I find here.
In a way it’s rather intimidating.”

“I wish there was time for you to see more
of the country. There are forests so vast that they fill the
horizon from edge to edge without a break. You can travel for days
and never meet another human being. And there are fantastic
waterfalls and mountains that would take your breath away.”

Judith was fascinated by the deep tremor of
pride in Nate’s voice. Even though his emotions were controlled
there was a glow to his eyes which spoke of a deep love for the
country. Once more she wondered if his loyalty was given to
America. But she also realized that he might love this country, yet
still desire to return to the traditions and privileges of his
English forebears.

“What has surprised you most since your
arrival?” Nate asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“The people,” Judith answered without
hesitation. “As you may know, my mother hated it here. From what
she said I did not expect that the people would be so educated. I
know that sounds dreadful,” she apologized, “but I had expected an
unsophisticated town of farmers.”

Nate liked the blush of color that rose to
her cheeks at her honest answer. He longed to follow the path of
the pink tint with a caressing hand. Groaning inwardly, he sought
to control his mind from concentrating on her beautiful face.

“I’ll have to take you to some of the
farms,” Nate said. “Even our farmers will surprise you. They are
not like the tenant farmers you are used to in England.”