Color of Deception (Sullyard Sisters Book 1)

by Ruth J. Hartman

  Kitty, you’re an idiot. You never should have come with him.

  “Something amiss?” He stroked the back of her hand lightly.

  She leaned away a little, enough to feel like she could at least breathe without feeling faint. “I… perhaps we shouldn’t be—”

  “My dear, surely you won’t back out on your promise for my art lesson. It means a great deal to me. A great deal.” He leaned close and reached for her hand. He pressed his lips to her palm.

  Kitty needed to do something to divert his attention. And quickly. “Hand me my bag, won’t you?”

  He pulled away and blinked. With a shrug, he reached behind him for the cloth bag and set it closer to her.

  “Thank you Mr.—”

  He held up one finger.

  “—Stratford.”

  He smiled.

  Time to get to work and get his mind on drawing and off of anything else. Kitty took out a scrap piece of foolscap for the lesson. It was a fairly good sized piece, so there’d be enough room for him to practice on, but she didn’t want to use one of her precious rolls that she’d saved for doing actual panoramas.

  She took the large book she kept in her bag out and placed it on the blanket between them. Doing so forced Stratford to move away a few inches. Good. She handed him a pencil.

  With one eyebrow raised, he took it. “Um… I’m not proficient at drawing. Hence the lesson.”

  “The best way to learn is to just try it.”

  “I can think of other things I’d rather try.”

  She gave her a single shake and tried to appear stern.

  “Very well. What do I do?”

  Kitty glanced around them, looking for something easy he could try to draw. There. A small yellow flower bravely held its ground very near the water’s edge. It was surprising it could have deep enough roots in the shallow soil there. “How about that?” She pointed to it.

  “A flower? That doesn’t sound very…”

  “What?”

  “Masculine.”

  She giggled. “Drawing isn’t about masculine or feminine. It’s about art. Expressing your feelings by what you see and how you portray it.”

  He heaved a heavy sigh. “If I must.”

  “You must.” She bit her lip trying not to laugh again.

  He leaned down over the paper and placed the tip of the pencil in the middle of the page. And stopped.

  “Go on.”

  “What if I do it incorrectly?”

  “That’s the wonderful thing about art. There is no right or wrong.”

  “If you say so.” He glanced up at the flower and back. Slowly, he moved the pencil in a curved line, creating the edge of a petal.

  “Good.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded. “Keep going.”

  He made another half circle next to it and then three more, going around the page. “Like this?”

  “Yes.” Kitty was so thankful he was actually drawing and taking a lesson instead of… well, she’d rather not think about that.

  He drew a round circle in the middle of the petal and darkened it in. “What else should I do?”

  “How about… try flipping the pencil on its side and with light pressure, make tiny striated lines on the petals.”

  “What do you mean? Show me.”

  She took the pencil and demonstrated the technique, adding texture and definition to two of the petals. “Here, now you—”

  When she looked up, he had leaned over toward her. Too close. When she tried to back away, he caught her wrist in his hand. “I can no longer pretend to be interested in drawing a silly flower when what I really desire is to kiss you.”

  “Kiss me?” She shook her head.

  He nodded. “Oh, yes. Come here, my dear.”

  No… This can’t be happening. He’d been drawing. She’d hoped things were progressing as they ought… You’re an idiot, that’s what you are. How could you have believed he’d really settle for an art lesson?

  With all the strength she could muster, she tugged her hand free and stood. “I’m afraid our lesson is over.”

  He smirked. Did he think she was joking? That she would tell him it was all playacting and she really did mean to kiss him?

  After a few seconds, his lips turned downward, as did his eyebrows. “I see.”

  He stood and brushed off the front of his coat. Without another word or a backward glance, he stomped away to the empty carriage, leaving her standing by the tree.

  Kitty let out a breath. She’d really done it now. Would he see to it she lost her position at the magazine?

  But honestly, what other recourse did she have? She wasn’t about to actually let him kiss her, no matter what Robert had demanded. Yes, while she’d flirtatiously kissed men before, Stratford was a rake and might not back away if she let things go that far.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The only sounds in the room, aside from a steady purr from the rescued cat in Kitty’s lap, were the scratching of pencils and swishing of paintbrushes on paper. Kitty was determined to finish her panorama of the lion, tiger and panther she’d started at the zoo.

  Lydia, painting a row of horses and carriages letting off people to attend a ball, broke the silence. “Have you decided what to name him?” She pointed to the cat with the end of her paintbrush and then tapped the utensil on the table three times. Kitty had long been used to Lydia’s strange quirks.

  “Not yet.”

  “We can’t just call him kitty.”

  Kitty bit her lip, thinking of Nathaniel’s reaction when she’d teased him about that very thing. “No, I won’t call him Kitty.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  Patience, who sat to Kitty’s left, worked away on her painting of Thames River. “I like the name George.”

  Lydia raised one eyebrow. “You only say that because you like to flirt with the butcher’s son by the same name.”

  “Nevertheless, I still like the name. But it’s up to Kitty, of course.”

  She gave an absentminded nod, but couldn’t stop thinking of the day prior. If anyone had happened upon her sitting alone on that blanket with Stratford, her reputation would be in tatters.

  But when she’d finally convinced Stratford that she needed to go home posthaste, they returned to the carriage.

  She shook her head. Time to get her mind on more pleasant things. Like the sweet ball of fur in her lap at present. “Hmm.” Kitty ran her fingers through the cat’s fur, “What say you, cat? Does the name George suit?”

  The cat meowed and stretched, then pivoted in a circle and curled up again on Kitty’s lap.

  Lydia giggled. “I think he approves.”

  “Too much talking going on in here!” Robert’s loud voice startled them. Immediately, they all lowered their heads and resumed painting. Why did their cousin have to be so disagreeable?

  George arched his back and hissed, which caught Robert’s attention. “Why is there a cat inside the walls of this house?” There were cats that roamed outside that Kitty and her sisters fed and cared for, but Robert had never allowed one to come in.

  Kitty’s hand went protectively around her pet, remembering how scared the poor thing had been when caught in the Tower Zoo wall. “He-he’s a gift.”

  “A gift? Have you an admirer then?”

  Oh, how she wished. “It’s from Mr. Bexley.” With a quick glare at Lydia, Kitty stopped her annoying sister from asking again to which Mr. Bexley she referred.

  “Ah, well that’s fine then, isn’t it? If he’s giving you gifts, perhaps we can hope for more than a position at the magazine?”

  Kitty shrugged. “I know not.” Anything more from Nathaniel would be wonderful, but it hadn’t happened and she feared it never would.

  Robert sat down at the table and drummed his gnarled fingers on the surface. “When might we expect to see some payment from this establishment?”

  “I’ve only just finishe
d the first panorama of the race. I’ll make sure it’s delivered tomorrow.”

  “What’s taking you so long?”

  Kitty gritted her teeth together. “I’m doing my best. You wouldn’t have me produce poor work, would you?” She grimaced and held her breath. Speaking to Robert in such a tone usually got her into trouble.

  He frowned, the wrinkles on his forehead appearing to collapse into one another. “Just try to hurry up the process.”

  Kitty nodded. She calmed George with one hand and finished sketching in the lion’s mane with the other. A cat in my right hand, another in my left…

  Robert leaned closer to inspect her work. “Very good.”

  A compliment? From her cousin? How odd those words sounded from the man’s lips. “Th-thank you.”

  “Listen, this gift from Mr. Bexley…”

  “Yes?” With her head kept down, she tried to appear as if concentrating on her work. At times, direct eye contact with her cousin had been known to send him into a rage. It was as if she’d stared directly, in challenge, at some wild beast, giving it cause to go on the attack.

  “Our family is in dire straits. Extra money from someone of his status could save us from being thrown to the streets. If he is showing appreciation you beyond your painting, it would be in your best interest, the best interests of all of us if you were to…”

  She forgot herself and looked up. “To what?”

  “Well…” He drummed his fingers on the table a few times and switched his gaze to the side.

  Did he mean to pursue Stratford? She had no desire whatsoever to do that. But she wasn’t going to correct his assumption that the gift was from the son. She’d already tempted fate once by speaking up about the quickness of her work. To contradict him again would be madness. “I’m certain the gift of the cat was nothing more than a… goodwill gesture on his part. Um… more on the part of the magazine.”

  “I see.” He eyed her from forehead to chin. “You’re a pretty girl.” As if noticing her for the first time, he tilted his head and squinted. “I’m sure if you showed some interest in him, it might go a long way toward securing something…”

  “Something?”

  “A proposal would be nice.”

  “What?”

  “Calm yourself, girl. It isn’t as if it would be the first time a young woman cornered a man into wedded bliss.”

  Shock rolled through her. “I-I don’t know…”

  He grabbed her wrist so tight, she dropped her pencil. “Well, I do know. You will be nice to the son. Flirt with him if you must.”

  Kitty caught Lydia’s eye, but her sister wasn’t making sport of her this time about the flirting. “I’ll do my best, Robert.”

  “Just make sure Mr. Bexley finds you irresistible. Because if he doesn’t offer to marry you, you won’t have a home here to come back to.” Robert pushed away from the table and stood.

  Kitty’s hand shook in George’s fur. She’d be homeless? Robert had threatened many things over the years, but that one was new. Perhaps she could merely pretend to pursue him. Let her cousin think she was doing his bidding.

  Robert rubbed his hand down his face. “There’s something else. And this goes for all three of you.”

  Lydia and Patience abandoned their panoramas, glanced at each other and Kitty, and focused their attention on Robert.

  “I know you girls have that silly little game of putting a scrolled S in your work.”

  Was he going to ask them to stop? It had always been such an enjoyable game for them. And heaven knew there was little enjoyment to be had in their household at present. Kitty opened her mouth to protest.

  He held up his hand. “I’ll not insist you stop, but in light of that, there’s something I want you to do for me.” He reached in his pocket and placed a small piece of foolscap in the middle of the table.

  Kitty squinted her eyes to better see the small drawing. Had Robert done it? If so, it must have taken him forever with his gnarled hands wrapped around the pencil. The image was an odd shape, kind of a triangle with an arm protruding from each side. What did it mean? She pushed the paper closer to her sisters so they could view it better.

  Robert pointed to the paper. “From now on when I instruct you to and only then, all three of you will place that image somewhere in your panorama. You’ll hide it, just as you do with your scrolled S, so it can be found, but won’t be obvious at first glance.”

  Why would he want them to do that? “But I don’t understand —”

  He frowned. “You don’t need to understand. Just do it.” He spun on his heel and stomped away. Kitty heard the door slam as he left the house.

  How odd… Robert had always been demanding but that was the first time he’d asked something of them that made absolutely no sense at all.

  Lydia leaned across the table and rubbed Kitty’s hand. “What are you going to do? About Mr. Bexley?”

  “I don’t know. He’s not someone I want to pursue. He’s a rake, not someone to have serious intentions toward. Yesterday he said he’d wanted an art lesson, but I’m sure that’s not really what he had in mind.”

  Patience’s eyes moistened. “I feel awful about telling him your whereabouts. Now I realize how stupid that was of me.”

  Kitty hated that Patience felt guilt about giving Stratford her location. She knew her sister would never intentionally hurt her. Most likely, she’d imagined it romantic that Stratford wished to find her, and in her youthful exuberance, had given him information she shouldn’t have. Kitty patted her sister’s hand. “It’s fine. Everything is fine.”

  “Do you like Mr. Bexley? Even a little? If he were kind, would it be so bad?”

  “Patience,” Lydia snapped.

  Kitty frowned. “Don’t let’s argue among ourselves.”

  Chagrined, her sisters nodded.

  Lydia tilted her head. “Not to make sport of your dilemma, but which Mr. Bexley would you rather…” Her face colored.

  Kitty closed her eyes briefly. “I know which Mr. Bexley I wish it to be.”

  Patience sighed. “Nathaniel?”

  “Yes.”

  “But that’s not the one who’s wealthy.” Lydia said.

  “No. Nathaniel isn’t the wealthy cousin.”

  Patience dipped her brush in paint the color of a summer sky. “You prefer Nathaniel. Does he admire you?’

  Kitty remembered the way he’d caressed her face, held her hand, and rescued her from the runaway horse. “I believe so, yes.”

  “So then,” Patience went on, “He fancies you, and you him. But because of—” She angled her head toward the front door where Robert had departed. “—you feel you must… uh, pursue Stratford. Correct?”

  Kitty nodded. “It’s all so hopeless. Though Nathaniel is also a rake, so I’m not sure that would make any difference in the end.”

  “I have an idea.”

  Lydia and Kitty both stared at their little sister. “What is it?” asked Lydia.

  “Well, it sounds to me like you need someone to accompany you who would… perhaps, catch Nathaniel’s eye. Leaving you free to, well…”

  Lydia frowned. “And just whom did you have in mind?”

  Patience winked. “Why you, of course.”

  “What?” Lydia stood up so quickly, her chair teetered on its back legs before stopping.

  Kitty nodded. “It might work. I… If I can’t spend time with Nathaniel, then, I’d rather it be someone I love and trust.”

  Lydia’s face reddened. “You’re not thinking clearly. Patience hasn’t a clue what she’s proposing. She has no experience in the ways of men.”

  “Neither do you.” Patience pouted.

  “That’s my point.” Lydia sat back down, tapping the table over and over with the wooden end of her paintbrush until Kitty reached over and snatched it from her.

  “Listen,” Kitty glanced from one to the other. “I have no intention of actually pursuing Stratford. But Robert needs to believe that I do. So we m
ust play along.”

  Lydia tapped the table with her finger. “Can’t you simply tell Robert you flirted with Stratford, but then you actually don’t?”

  “You know how red my face gets when I try to tell a falsehood. It’s this blasted pale skin of mine. He would see right through my lie. Yes, it’s horrible what Robert is demanding, but you know how he can be if he doesn’t get his way. I’d rather not be homeless, given a choice. My hope is that he’ll tire of his demand and over time and assume that Stratford has no interest in proposing.”

  Her sisters nodded.

  “That being said, Lydia, if when you’re with Nathaniel, you would consent to—”

  “I’m not doing that.”

  “No, of course not. But perhaps you could spend time with him as a friend, while I… well… act as if I’m being friendly toward Stratford. For the sake of my employment. At least until the panorama projects are finished.”

  Lydia took Kitty’s hand. “Are you certain? I wouldn’t feel right.”

  “Yes, I’m sure. Better you than—” A memory of Miss Queensbury crossed her mind— “someone else.” Kitty wasn’t sure she could stand it is that shrew got her claws into him.

  Patience leaned forward and glanced from one sister to the other. “So, we have a plan?”

  Kitty glanced at Lydia, who shrugged and then nodded. “We have a plan.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The door to the outer office opened, then closed. Nathaniel didn’t pay it much mind. But when he heard female voices, one of whom he felt sure was Kitty’s, he pushed away from his desk and walked toward the open doorway to the room he shared with Stratford.

  Kitty and her sister— Lydia, was it? — were talking so intently to each other, they paid no attention to where they were headed.

  “Ah, good day!” Nathaniel caught Kitty’s shoulders before she would have crashed right into him.

  One side of her mouth rose but just as quickly lowered. “Good day, Mr. Bexley.”

  Why did she appear not at all pleased to see him? He forced a pleasant expression. “What brings you lovely ladies to the magazine today?”