Sweet Deception Regency 07 - The Divided Hearts (23 page)

Her back was turned to him and he reached
out and placed his hand on her arm. She did not flinch but he felt
her withdrawal. When she turned, shrugging off his hand, her eyes
glittered with a cold anger. He grasped her by the shoulders and
pulled her against him, but she wrenched away. Exasperated, Nate
took a step toward her. Her hand flashed out and she slapped him
smartly across the cheek.

“You, sir, are no gentleman,” Judith
hissed.

Nate wanted to laugh at the melodrama of her
words, but could find little humor in the situation. He did not
know what had happened to break the spell of magic that had
surrounded them. He had enough experience with women to know that
for one moment Judith had been willing to give herself completely
to him. Then seconds later she was fighting like a wildcat. He
opened his mouth to speak but as though she sensed the motion, she
held up her hand to forestall him.

“I can give you nothing, Palatine.” Judith’s
voice was low, trembling with her struggle to keep back her tears.
“This was a mistake, nothing more. We have nothing in common.
America and England can never be united.” Without another word, she
whirled, running across the yard to disappear in the darkness of
the night.

Nate remained transfixed, stunned by the
meaning of her words. He had known before that her loyalty was
given to England but for the few moments of passion, nothing had
mattered. He had wanted her more than he had ever wanted any woman.
He had no doubts that he would have taken her on the ground and
gloried in the possession. She was a fire in his blood. Her skin,
her eyes, her mouth belonged to him. Her quick mind, her sense of
humor and the beauty of her soul all were his. He loved her.

He was stupefied by the truth of his words.
She was English and, as such, a threat to his very existence. She
was a spy. He could never confide in her or trust her. It was
impossible to understand but he didn’t care what she was. She was
the other half of himself. Without her, he would never be complete.
He loved her.

“God in heaven, what a coil!”

His shoulders sagged at the futility of the
situation. Then wearily Nate brushed off his clothing and made his
way through the empty garden to the lane. He knew it was pointless
to follow Judith. She would already have reached the safety of her
room, since she could not fail to recognize Simon’s house. He had
purposely led the chase in a large circle so that she would be
close to home. As he passed the house, he stared bleakly up at her
darkened window, then moved silently toward the safe house where
his horse was waiting.

Behind the shelter of the draperies, Judith
caught the white reflection of Palatine’s face as he glanced up at
her window. She felt ashamed of herself and knew that she owed him
an apology for her angry attack.

She had been so distraught at her traitorous
body, that she had lashed out at the man. Not that he was entirely
blameless, she argued. He had taken an ungentlemanly advantage of
her wanton behavior, so she had little reason to feel sorry for
him. She was furious at herself and at the same time filled with
confusion. What was the matter with her? She must have lost her
mind to have given in so willingly to Palatine’s lovemaking. He
must believe she was a woman of light morals. She had behaved like
a veritable hussy. Judith groaned in embarrassment and dropped the
draperies back into place.

She spread out her hands, groping for the
rocking chair in the darkened room. Her hands touched the wood and
she removed the rag doll from the seat before she sat down.
Cradling the childhood remembrance in her lap, she rested her head
against the chair back and began to rock. The gentle rhythm was
balm to the torment of her mind.

The movement of the chair was hypnotic and
she welcomed the numbness. She did not want to think. She did not
want to analyze. A dulling lethargy invaded her body and she
floated, content for the moment with the suppression of all
turmoil. She relaxed slowly, her mind returning to rational
thought. A soft sigh filtered through her lips and she ran her
fingers over the roughly sewn features of the rag doll in her
lap.

In the light from the window, Judith could
see the mouth drawn up in an inextinguishable smile. She tugged at
the moveable lacy mop cap and turned the doll over. There, on the
reverse side, was an identical face but this time the mouth was
pulled into an unalterable frown. The doll’s features blurred as
unbidden tears filled Judith’s eyes.

Whatever was the matter with her? She was as
divided as the two-faced doll. Since she had come to America, she
had begun to question almost every area of her life. In England she
had known what her life would be like and she had been in
control-at least she thought she had been-of her destiny. Now she
felt torn, indecisive and the very vacillation of her loyalties
made her more unsettled. New ideas and experiences flooded her with
stimuli that further confused her.

She was in love with Nathanael
Bellingham.

The single thought had the absolute clarity
of truth. She increased the rocking of the chair until the steady
rhythm eased the agitation that beset her. Memories of Palatine’s
lovemaking flooded her senses. Now, like then, it was not the face
of a mysterious stranger that hovered over her. In the instant that
Palatine’s lips touched hers, she had fantasized how it would be if
she were in Nate’s arms. She could see him so clearly, bending over
her, his blue eyes flashing with the passion she had only caught
glimpses of before. Yet now she understood what had confused her
earlier. She had wanted to be kissing Nate.

Judith found it almost laughable that she
had fallen in love with a man who possessed an overabundance of
valueless traits. He was foppish, changeable, arrogant, and
laughable. But for every flaw in his character, she had a dim
perception of other qualities, buried in the depths of his person.
He could be gentle and sensitive and funny and compassionate. He
had a wonderful mind and a quick intelligent wit. In her heart,
Judith suspected that Nate was living an artificial role. Perhaps
he had been deeply hurt and donned this disguise to keep anyone
from getting close to him. Judith didn’t understand his reasons,
all she knew was that she loved him.

In the ordinary way of things, the
revelation of her love for Nate would hardly be mind shattering,
but in searching her soul, she had made another momentous
discovery. She wanted to remain in America.

“America and England can never be
united”

Judith remembered saying those words to
Palatine. They were words of anger spoken from an unconscious mind.
At the time she had thought they referred to her rejection of his
lovemaking. Now as her convictions began to coalesce she understood
that even then she had been referring to the despair at her
relationship with Nate.

It was almost laughable. Early in her
meetings with Nate she had been so concerned because his loyalties
might be given to America. Instead, it was she who had changed her
allegiance. She loved England and she was incredibly proud of her
English heritage and traditions. Someday she hoped to return to
visit friends she had known and places that had meant so much to
her when she was growing up. But since her arrival in this
“barbaric” country as Nate’s grandmother had referred to America,
she had felt for the first time as though she belonged. Like
Patrick she wanted to be a part of the new nation.

It was pure idiocy to have fallen in love
with a man who was more English than she. At first she had
questioned Nate’s commitment to America. Now she realized that he
was probably torn by the same confusion she had been. She did not
question the fact that he loved America. But his lifestyle and his
values were more in tune with the English nobility than the
American patriot. He would be in his element, holding court in a
London drawing room, his quizzing glass poised to punctuate his
witty comments. The very fact that Nate could ignore the political
climate convinced Judith that he would return to England.

Were I a man, she argued, I would be part of
Palatine’s organization. War was coming and one could not hug the
fence. This brash country clamored for activists who would risk all
to build a new nation. She settled back in her rocker, remembering
the American women she had met. She need not be a man to champion
this country. Women here had always been committed in the fight for
freedom. She would do her part as others had before her.

Judith planted her feet firmly on the floor,
holding the chair still as she stared at the morning light blurring
the edges of the window. The coming of the day was symbolic of her
new decision. As for Nate, she would wait to see if their divided
love had any hope of union.

The church bells rang at dawn, announcing
the Fourth of July celebrations. Judith scrambled out of bed, threw
on her clothes and hurried downstairs for breakfast. She knew
Patrick would never forgive her if they missed the balloon
ascension. She glared sleepily at the boy, who fidgeted in
excitement, while she tried to finish her muffins and tea. If she
were any judge, she would need her strength to survive the day.
Finished at last, she jammed a sunbonnet on her head and raced
after her father. Patrick, held firmly between Simon and Judith,
pulled them through the streets to the park.

“This ought to be smashing, Judith. I’ve
never seen a balloon ascension. Roger told me that he met a boy who
saw one of the balloons explode,” the boy announced with relish.
“There was an enormous whooshing noise then the bag burst into
flames. The basket crashed to the ground and everyone ran around
screaming.”

“Sounds like a delightful event,” Simon
announced.

Her father found a place for Judith on the
edge of the crowd then joined Patrick who had moved closer to the
wicker basket dangling beneath the ballooning bag. Judith was more
fascinated watching the antics of the child than she was by the
balloon ascension. In England her father had taken her to her first
launching and she remembered it clearly as she observed the
expression of joy on Patrick’s face as the balloon rose in the air.
The boy watched, excitement untainted by the failure of the balloon
to explode or burst into flames.

She fanned herself as they walked back
towards town. The day was overcast; the air thick with humidity.
She had been looking forward to the party at the Glowen’s farm this
evening but wondered if rain would force a cancellation.

Now that Judith had resolved to remain in
America, the Fourth of July celebration had a special significance
for her. She watched her father’s face fill with pride as the flag
was raised to start the parade. She wondered if she ought to tell
him of her decision but determined to wait a little longer.

With Patrick shrieking beside her, Judith
thoroughly enjoyed the parade. There were floats representing
ships, scenes from mythology and significant, though obscure,
moments in history. Anyone who had a uniform wore one, marching
with pride before the roaring crowd. Each profession and trade
marched and even the clergymen of the city were out in force. She
waved and clapped in pleasure, covering her ears as the ships in
the harbor fired their cannon in salute.

Halfway through the speeches, the clouds
bunched overhead and a thin mist of rain filtered down on the
crowd. Patrick had become bored once the politicians took over the
festivities, so it was relatively easy to persuade him to return
home. Hand in hand, they ran through the streets as the rain
increased, pelting down in fat raindrops. Safely indoors, they
collapsed in gay laughter, teasing each other for the drenched
ruination of their clothes.

Judith stood on tiptoes to kiss her father’s
cheek. “Despite the fact that my English ancestors are probably
reeling in their graves, I have thoroughly enjoyed myself,” she
said. “Thank you for a wonderful morning.”

: :

“Hurry up, Judith. It’s already half after
five.” Patrick hissed through the wooden panels of her bedroom
door. “We’re going to miss everything.”

“I’ll be down a minute,” she called.

“You said that the last time I came up
here.” The boy’s injured tone indicated that his patience was close
to the breaking point. “We’ll be late for supper. All the food will
be gone and Roger said his mother was going to bring a red
raspberry pie.”

Knowing that was the boy’s particular
favorite, Judith could understand the note of anxiety in his voice
but it did little to resolve her present dilemma. “I promise you,
Patrick, if the pie is gone I will personally pick berries and have
Mrs. Baker make you a pie of your own.” She clenched her teeth at
his groan of misery.

“It won’t be the same,” was the glum answer.
“Besides we’ll miss the relay races and watching them chase the
greased pig and, oh, just everything.”

“Go away, Patrick!” Judith shouted in
exasperation. “I’ll be down as soon as I can but not if you keep
bothering me. Go away!”

Angry footsteps clomped down the hallway and
Judith sat down amidst the devastation of the room. Every surface
was covered by dresses. The skirts flared out in a patchwork of
colors and patterns that dazzled the eyes. Scarves and ribbons
dangled from the shelves of the opened clothes press. Slippers and
sandals were scattered across the oak floor. It looked for all the
world as though the room had been vandalized or, at the very least,
ransacked by no less than a band of marauding pirates.

The Fourth of July party at the Glowen’s
farm was the first opportunity that she had had to see Nathanael
since she discovered that she loved him. Although she had convinced
herself that theirs was a doomed relationship, she was feminine
enough to want him to see her at her best. She had thought she
would have plenty of time to prepare for the evening but when she
tried to decide which dress to wear she could not find one that
suited her. The hall door opened and Judith leaped to her feet,
guilt written clearly on her face.