Color of Deception (Sullyard Sisters Book 1)

by Ruth J. Hartman

  “Clothing?”

  “They are wearing items made of cloth, are they not?”

  “Yes, but… It’s normally referred to as their colors.”

  “Oh.” Heat crawled up her cheeks. Just another reminder that they came from two different worlds. She avoided eye contact with him and focused instead on the horses. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Mr. Bexley’s hand reach out, hesitate, and return to his lap. Her heart thudded against her ribs. Had he been about to touch her sleeve as a way of apology for disconcerting her with his words?

  Why had he stopped?

  It doesn’t matter. Keep working. Time to stop allowing herself to be distracted from her job of earning money for Robert. Kitty quickly outlined a few shapes that would later be people. Right then she only wanted to get the spacing right as to where the spectators were sitting.

  She regarded the area around them to pinpoint a few other items that might be of interest in her drawing later on. Boundaries surrounding the track. Short gates that the horses jumped over during the race. Grassy areas to the side and back of the spectator stands. That evening when she was at home and could add more detail and color, she wanted to have these things in mind. Otherwise, she’d draw the horses and riders and then be stumped on what else to add.

  The sound of skirts rustling and footsteps startled her. All around them, people were rising from their seats and moving toward the main aisles. Would she and Mr. Bexley be required to leave as well? Perhaps someone else had claim on these seats for the next race.

  About to ask, she was surprised when Mr. Bexley, peering at something over Kitty’s head, stiffened his shoulders.

  With a forced smile, not unlike the one he’d given Kitty when she commented on his cousin, Mr. Bexley stood. The limp that Kitty had noticed earlier caused him to nearly stumble but he caught himself in time. He bowed to a young woman. “Good day, Miss Queensbury.”

  Kitty, unable not to stare, realized her mouth hung open and snapped it closed. Miss Queensbury was striking. Blonde hair so light to be nearly white, honey-colored skin with just a touch of pink on her cheeks, and eyes the color of grey storm clouds. Every man who passed by openly admired at the woman as well.

  Her dress, a lovely gown of buttery yellow, had white lace trim at the bodice and sleeves. A matching yellow bonnet was decorated with white daisies and thin ribbon.

  Suddenly, Kitty realized the other woman was staring at her too. As Miss Queensbury eyed Kitty’s attire with distaste, she answered Mr. Bexley.

  “Good day.” Only after speaking did Miss Queensbury offer her hand to him.

  Mr. Bexley bowed over her hand, affecting to give her glove a kiss, but his lips never actually touched the fabric. He quickly released her and straightened, giving a nearly silent sigh. Kitty wondered if it reached Miss Queensbury’s ears.

  The other woman changed her focus back to Kitty. “Mr. Bexley who is your… acquaintance?”

  As if having forgotten Kitty stood right next to him, Mr. Bexley widened his eyes at her and softly gasped. Good heavens, was he so smitten with Miss Queensbury that he took no notice of anyone else?

  He indicated Kitty with a wave of his hand in her direction. “This is Miss Sullyard. May I introduce Miss Queensbury?”

  Kitty set down her paper, stood and affected her best curtsey, which granted wasn’t much. She didn’t have occasion to worry about performing it just right very often. “Good day.” How silly she must have appeared doing a curtsey while still holding her pencil in one hand.

  Miss Queensbury, living up to her name, inclined her head in a royal fashion but said nothing directly to Kitty at all, instead giving her a glare that said, you’re not worthy to breathe the same air that I do.

  Clenching her jaw, Kitty held in the curse she wished to mutter. But it didn’t stop her from thinking rotten things. Snooty woman of the gentry, too pretty for her own good, her personality is probably as stiff as the skirt of her dress.

  There. That felt a little better. Kitty relaxed her jaw, then noticing her fist was clenched at her side, opened her hand as well.

  Mr. Bexley looked from the other woman to Kitty, before turning back to Miss Queensbury. “How does the day find you? Good, I trust?”

  Miss Queensbury stepped forward, nearly tromping on Kitty’s scuffed boot, and grabbed Mr. Bexley’s arm, though it had not been offered.

  How dare she? She very nearly knocked me over.

  Mr. Bexley darted a quick glance at Kitty. Apologetic? That was something, she supposed. At least that time he noticed her presence.

  Wait. Why are you so upset anyway? It isn’t as if you will ever see Mr. Bexley, either of the Bexleys after the work assignments are completed.

  Much as it vexed Kitty to admit it, she needed to stick to her work and not give attention to anyone she came in contact with who wouldn’t give her the time of day in any other circumstance.

  Mr. Bexley waved a hand toward Kitty. “Miss Sullyard is creating a miniature panorama for the magazine.”

  With narrowed eyes, Miss Queensbury observed the race drawing as if purveying a disgusting insect on her boot. “What is it supposed to be?”

  Kitty’s neck and face heated. The witch. Mr. Bexley had identified her other panorama of Astley’s Amphitheatre right off. Surely this one wasn’t so vastly different?

  A slight frown marred the beauty of Mr. Bexley’s face. “Why, can you not see that it’s of the very race that just completed its run?”

  The vile woman sniffed and lowered her thin eyebrows. “Indeed.”

  Kitty’s hand clenched so tight, she nearly snapped her pencil in two. Don’t do that. Supplies are too expensive.

  Miss Queensbury, who hadn’t yet let go of Mr. Bexley’s captured arm, tugged him even closer. Any nearer and his chest would be pressed against her—

  “Oh!”

  “Something amiss, Miss Sullyard?” Mr. Bexley regarded at Kitty with what seemed to be genuine concern.

  She flapped her hand in his direction. “No. Fine. I’m fine.”

  With yet another tug, Miss Queensbury had her hand nearly beneath Mr. Bexley’s armpit. “I was so hoping you would have a free moment to take a quick stroll about the grounds with me?”

  He pulled away from her, slowly, causing her to pout. “I’m afraid today is not a good day for that.”

  With a boot stomp, Miss Queensbury jutted her lower lip out even further. “Why ever not?”

  He indicated Kitty again. “I’m Miss Sullyard’s escort. But perhaps you could be seen safely home…”

  “Yes?”

  “I could have my coachman drive you.”

  Miss Queensbury gasped. “Oh, no. That will not do.”

  “Then I’m afraid I’ll not be able to accommodate you today.”

  “Well.” With a scowl for Mr. Bexley and a — was that a hiss? — in Kitty’s direction, Miss Queensbury stomped away in a flurry of flouncing skirts and grumblings.

  Kitty sighed. As much as she was enjoying her time with Mr. Bexley, minus of course, the visit from the stomping witch, she shouldn’t take up too much of his valuable time away from his work. Besides, what if the grumpy Miss Queensbury was someone he actually enjoyed spending time with and Kitty had caused him some trouble? “Since I have the rough outline I need for the panorama, I can easily finish the drawing details and add color once I reach home.”

  He blinked. “Oh.” Was that disappointment on his face? “I was hoping…”

  “Yes?”

  “That is to say… Would you enjoy seeing another race? There’s one just about to begin. Perhaps it might aid you in your work.”

  Did he want to spend more time with her or was he only trying to be helpful so she could accomplish her work more quickly and make himself come across better to his uncle? Either way, she wasn’t about to refuse a pleasant day with a handsome gentleman.

  Besides, her great-aunt hadn’t yet finished her nap.

  Chapter Eight

  Nathaniel wait
ed as Miss Sullyard put her pencil and paper away in her bag. “Ready to depart?”

  She tied the strings of her bag closed. “Certainly. Shall I be returning home now?”

  “Not quite yet. That is, unless you’ve a need to go at once.”

  “Not at once. Is there something else you’d like me to draw?”

  He reached out for her hand, hoping no one else noticed his forwardness. A quick look around assured him that nearly everyone else had left the seating area. He needed for Kitty to believe him a rake, but others who knew him would stare at his actions. His reputation among his peers had always been that of a quiet, well-mannered man.

  Unlike his cousin.

  Miss Sullyard glanced down at their joined hands and her face colored pink. Was she embarrassed at his boldness? Or pleased?

  Nathaniel took it a step further and drew their joined hands close to his chest. “What would you say to a stroll?”

  “I…” She glanced up toward the entrance to their section of seats.

  “Would you rather not?” Perhaps he’d been too bold. Had scared her off.

  “It’s not that.” She raised one shoulder in a shrug.

  Something was amiss. His first impulse was to ask what was wrong. No. He mustn’t. What would Stratford say in this situation? Nathaniel rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “The day is nearly perfect. A walk with someone as beautiful as you would make it complete perfection indeed.”

  She blinked and raised her gaze to his. “It would?”

  “Without a doubt.” He angled his body a little so they were now face to face. And standing very close. A woman four rows up who hadn’t left yet gasped loudly. Nathaniel took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. You can do this. You must do this to keep her attention away from the likes of your cousin.

  She gave him a tremulous smile but still hadn’t turned to leave the seats.

  He waited, hoping she would tell him what the trouble was, without him having to ask.

  “Mr. Bexley, while a stroll with you sounds delightful, I’m a little confused.”

  “Are you?” He rubbed her hand a little more. Tell me why.

  She tilted her head toward the other patrons who were leaving. “The woman who… your acquaintance, that is…”

  “My….?” He glanced to where she pointed with her free hand to just behind them. “Oh, Miss Queensbury?”

  “Yes. She… er, you had told her you didn’t have time. For a stroll.”

  Ah…. So that was it. “The difference, Miss Sullyard, is that I had no inclination or desire to share a walk with her.” Or anything else. “You, on the other hand…”

  “Me?”

  “I’d very much like to do that with you.”

  “I see.” She lowered her gaze, but peeked up at him from beneath her exceedingly long lashes.

  Nathaniel turned, as did she. Not that he’d given her much choice, as he was still in possession of her hand. “Shall we?”

  “Yes.”

  Reluctantly, Nathaniel released Miss Sullyard’s hand when she pulled away to fetch her great-aunt but captured it again soon after.

  They made their way through the stands, out into the main lobby and to a large expanse of grassy area beyond. Giving in to his nervousness at acquaintances who stared at their joined hands, he held out his arm for her hand instead.

  Why do I have qualms about acting the rake? Must I be so overly sensitive? Obviously showing a kinder side doesn’t work. If it did, wouldn’t I have been married to some lovely girl quite some time ago?

  He was determined, however, to pour on the charm again once they were alone. Or, as alone as they could get in a fairly crowded venue. Mrs. Caruthers had already found a bench on which to read and appeared not at all concerned with her niece’s activities.

  Out in the field behind the track, there were not very many people milling about at the moment. Good. Now maybe he could proceed with his flirtation without many witnesses.

  A stiff breeze tore at Miss Sullyard’s skirts, lifting the billowing fabric enough so Nathaniel got a glimpse of her ankles. Full and shapely. Would they feel as firm as they appeared? His pulse quickened. Desire shot down to his nether region. All from a woman’s ankles? He could scarcely imagine how he’d feel if she were naked.

  “Mr. Bexley? You’ve gone pale. Are you—”

  “Fine. Yes, fine.” Nathaniel tugged at his cravat and swallowed hard, trying to think of anything but Miss Sullyard sans clothing. He wasn’t having great success.

  He led her along a dirt path that ran between two grassy areas. Their boots crunched on tiny stones embedded in the dirt. They stopped not far from a small, sturdy-looking shed. Through a window, Nathaniel eyed what appeared to be wooden handles leaning against a wall. Perhaps tools for keeping the grounds tidy?

  What should he do next? He was already holding her hand, which was more than he would normally have done with a woman he’d just met.

  As they ambled along, Nathaniel tried to imagine what Stratford would do now. Well of course there was that. But Nathaniel wasn’t willing to go that far. He glanced at Miss Sullyard. Not that he hadn’t wondered about it.

  One thing that might help was to become better acquainted. “Miss Sullyard?”

  “Yes?”

  “A woman as breathtaking as you most assuredly has a lovely name. I feel I must know your Christian name.”

  She stopped and took a half step back. “You must?”

  Hmmm. Too forward? “Mine is Nathaniel.”

  Her throat moved as she swallowed. Had he made her nervous? “And I am Kitty.”

  “A lovely name indeed.”

  “It’s short for Katherine, but my cousin is the only one who calls me that.”

  “I think Kitty fits you.” He took her other hand as well. What else could he say? It must be something to catch her attention. Something she’d find intriguing. Possibly outlandish. Think, Nathaniel. “I… I had a dream last night.”

  “Oh?”

  “About you.”

  “Did you?” Her eyebrows lowered slightly.

  He nodded and tugged her a little closer. “Indeed.”

  “And… what happened in this dream? Were… you in it as well?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  She blinked. “I see.” She opened her mouth again to speak but then closed it again. Had she wanted to ask what happened in the dream?

  I can certainly oblige. As soon as I think it up, of course. Why couldn’t I have had this story in place before I blurted that I’d had some dream about her? He watched her until she met his gaze with hers. Ah, there she is.

  Nathaniel took his backwardness by the horns and forged ahead. “In the dream, you and I were walking, much like we are now.”

  She nodded.

  “And… I…” He swallowed. “Perhaps it would be better if I simply showed you.”

  “Showed me…” She raised one eyebrow, looking uncertain.

  “I held your hands in mine.”

  Kitty tilted her head. “Just like now?”

  “Right. Just like now. Then I… gave them a gentle squeeze and released them.”

  She glanced down at her hands as if wondering how on earth it happened that they were now not embraced by his. “And then what?”

  He reached up with his hand and cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her high cheekbone. “Your skin is so soft.”

  “Did you say that in the dream?”

  He shook his head. “Just wanted to say it now.”

  She bit her lip. “Go on.”

  “Then, I… I pulled you closer and—”

  A startled yell came from their right, somewhere hear the track. The sound of hoof beats, close by, came from the same direction.

  Nathaniel whipped his head toward the sound. “What the—” A large brown mare, nostrils flaring and the whites of her round eyes showing, leaped over the boundary that separated the outer perimeter of the track area from the grassy field.

  The horse
hurtled toward them in a flurry of whinnies and thunderous hooves striking the ground.

  Kitty screamed.

  Nathaniel scooped her up in his arms and dashed to the right of the frightened animal bent on plowing down whatever or whoever was in its path. An instant later, he realized his mistake.

  The horse, its eyes rolling in fear, veered at the last second. Nathaniel, panicked, tightened his hold on Kitty and dove to the ground. His knees took the brunt of the force of their combined weight. He rolled on his side, tugging Kitty close against his chest as he lowered his chin over the top of her head to hopefully keep her safe from errant wild hooves.

  Two men came running toward them, following the direction of the horse. Nathaniel clutched Kitty closer, willing her to calm, to know he’d keep her safe. He raised his head to see what was going on. The horse, blowing fiercely through its nostrils, had stopped running. It shook its head from side to side but one of the men was able to grab hold of the reins and lead the animal back toward the track. As soon as their footsteps had died away, Nathaniel released Kitty and sat up.

  She turned to him and sat up as well. She took a deep breath and peered around. “Is it… over?”

  “Yes. Are you hurt?”

  She frowned and studied her gown. “No, just… a bit dirty.”

  “Let’s get you brushed off, shall we?” Nathaniel stood and pulled her up as well. He brushed at some dirt and pieces of grass on her sleeves and back. There was a large patch of dust on her bottom. He started to reach out and stopped. Do I dare? He wouldn’t normally, of course, but Stratford would.

  He glanced around, making sure no one was watching. With clenched teeth, he murmured, “Hold still.” With a light touch, he flicked away a small amount of the grass and dirt.

  Kitty stiffened beneath his touch but said nothing.

  Much as it’s highly improper to touch her there, it at least had the desire effect. Once finished, he angled her so they were facing again. “Sure you’re unharmed, Kitty?”

  She nodded. Her gaze drifted to his hand on her shoulder. Was she thinking about him touching her in a very private, very personal area just moments before?