Color of Deception

by Ruth J. Hartman

  Chapter Four

  The scuffing of boots on the hardwood floor reached Nathaniel. Irritation caused him to grind his teeth together. Would his lazy cousin never put in a full day’s work? It was no wonder Nathaniel had to work late into the night at times. Someone had to complete the work that Stratford left undone.

  Wait.

  He frowned. More than one pair of boots? Nathaniel angled around. A woman, tall and red-haired, stood next to Stratford. Her clear green eyes took in the surroundings of the office. Stratford offered her his arm and led her nearer.

  Nathaniel stared at the woman. It couldn’t be helped. Her flawless ivory skin begged to be touched, as did tiny wisps of red curls that hung just below the brim of her bonnet. Without his consent, Nathaniel’s hands curled in his lap, a longing to press his fingers against her skin so strong it nearly hurt.

  A sharp punch-like thump hit Nathaniel’s chest. Had lightning just struck his heart? Something was making his heartbeat flip like a jester at the circus. His mouth went dry, but his palms perspired profusely. He wiped them on his trousers.

  What am I thinking? This is madness.

  Yet, the longer he watched her, the more forceful the feeling became. Her dress appeared to be that of someone who hadn’t a lot in the way of money. It was clean and mended but definitely not new. Who was she? And why was she with—

  Stratford glanced at Nathaniel. “Mr. Bexley, I’d like to introduce you to the Miss Sullyards.”

  Nathaniel hadn’t noticed the blond young woman standing behind Stratford. She was pretty but paled in comparison to the red-haired beauty.

  Suddenly aware that he still sat at his worktable, Nathaniel stood so quickly his wooden chair wobbled on two legs behind him, threatening to topple to the floor. Heat spread over his face and he grabbed the back of the chair to right it on all four legs. He swallowed with difficulty, his mouth even drier than moments before, like the dust that swirled around his aunt’s garden in the middle of a hot rainless week of summer.

  Nathaniel gave a slight bow, hoping he didn’t fall over as his chair had nearly done. “Good day, ladies.”

  The women curtseyed, but Nathaniel only focused on one. She blinked, her long auburn lashes brushing against her cheeks, echoing the way Nathaniel’s fingers wanted to caress her skin. A smile curled her lips as she answered, “Good day.”

  Her skirts rustled as Stratford helped her to sit down on the chair next to Nathaniel’s. The blonde was invited to take a seat across from them.

  His Miss Sullyard peered up dreamily at Stratford, making Nathaniel’s blood boil. Why did his cousin always attract all the women? Was it simply the way he flirted with them? Touched them when he shouldn’t and devoured them with his stare?

  Nathaniel had said no to Stratford’s offer of help with women because he didn’t need it. He’d grown up with his cousin and knew pretty well how to act as Stratford did. He’d just never seen the point. It wasn’t his way. Nathaniel watched Miss Sullyard, her cheeks pinkening after Stratford gave her a wink.

  Nathaniel sat down, as well, longing to be as close to her as possible. What in the world was happening? It was as if she had some kind of power that he couldn’t resist. In the past, he’d never been a believer of spells, but perhaps he would believe now. The woman was truly unforgettable. Magical. Ethereal.

  Ethereal?

  Nathaniel shook his head hard, hoping to regain his good sense. I really am losing my faculties.

  Stratford stood on the other side of her, his hand settling proprietarily on the back of the chair.

  Fire burned in Nathaniel’s belly, and he longed to pummel his cousin in a fit of jealous rage. I’ll not have it. Not this time. This woman is different. She’s to be mine.

  Saints above.

  Nathaniel gulped a deep breath. For a man normally quiet and mild, the harsh feelings assailing him were almost frightening. Yet there they remained.

  It couldn’t be helped. He didn’t understand it. Couldn’t explain it. Neither could he stop it. Part of him wasn’t sure if he even wished the images to leave because an excitement he’d never experienced had taken over his body and heart.

  Maybe he enjoyed it a little.

  Maybe more than a little.

  “Nathaniel?” Stratford’s voice startled him back to reality.

  “Um, yes?”

  “The sisters are artists.”

  “I… see.” So she was talented as well as lovely.

  “I’ve taken it upon myself to speak to Father about the elder Miss Sullyard.”

  Nathaniel lowered his brows. What was he saying? Speak to his father? Had Stratford an idea to offer for the woman’s hand? No, I won’t hear of it. Nathaniel opened his mouth, ready to say something.

  “Father has a few minutes just now, so I’m off to speak with him about possibly doing business with Miss Sullyard.”

  “Business?” Concern ran through his mind. What was he—

  “With her paintings. As I explained to her on the way here, the magazine often makes use of trinkets and such as a way to entice readers to buy a subscription.” Stratford touched Miss Sullyard’s shoulder lightly, as if he had the right. Had permission to stand so near.

  She peeked briefly at his hand and then quickly away. Her face colored an attractive rose, making her even lovelier than before. If that was possible.

  “Oh,” was all Nathaniel managed to say.

  “So, I’m off to speak with him. I would mention the younger Miss Sullyard’s work, as well, but her sister wanted to wait because of her youth. I’ll be back straight away.” Stratford pivoted, giving a backward wave as he left.

  Alone. I am in this room alone with her.

  What an idiot he was. They weren’t alone. With a quick glance at the younger sister, Nathaniel gave her a brief nod before returning his attention to Miss Sullyard.

  A strange sensation settled over him. His fingers tingled, ready to fall asleep, and a not unpleasant lethargy took hold of his arms and legs, but his heart thudded hard. There was something about her. Something he couldn’t explain. All he knew was she was special. Perfect. His.

  If he was to have a chance with her, any chance at all, he need to adopt Stratford’s way of action. Much as he loathed being anything like his cousin, if the way Miss Sullyard had watched Stratford leave the room was any indication, she was already becoming smitten.

  No. If I must act the part of the rake to gain her attention, so be it. If she one day would be mine… He shook his head. When she is mine, I can show her my true spirit. That I’m gentle and loving and — Nathaniel cleared his throat. “Miss Sullyard, how pleasant to hear you are an artist. What do you like to paint?”

  She reached into her reticule and produced a small wooden cylinder a few inches high. What in the world was it? It surely didn’t remind him of anything artistic he’d ever seen. Had Stratford only given her compliments on it to lure her to the office? Wasn’t that something his letch of a cousin would do?

  To his amazement, Miss Sullyard handed the cylinder to him. What was he to do with it? Pretend amazement at her artistic ability of the wooden item? His breathing hitched when she reached toward him, grasping one edge where he now noticed a sliver of paper peeked out.

  With a smile, she said, “If you’ll just give this a light tug, you can see the panorama.”

  Panorama? An image of a huge painting by Robert Barker at Leicester Square ran across his mind. Was the beautiful young woman perhaps daft?

  He hoped not. It would be a shame for such beauty to be marred in any way. But what was he to do? Miss Sullyard peered directly at him, the corners of her eyes squinting and her mouth curving up.

  Gingerly, almost afraid he’d break the tiny, nearly weightless object, Nathaniel did as requested and lifted the edge that ran in a perfect straight line down the cylinder’s side.

  As he tugged, the paper came out away from its roll and a rainbow of colors appeared. He leaned down.

  Why, it was…

/>   A group of horses ran inside a ring, a lone rider standing astride on top of their backs. Vivid colors surrounded the white horses as they ran past a vast crowd of onlookers. “Astley’s Amphitheatre?”

  A becoming blush bloomed on her cheeks. “So it is recognizable, then?”

  Nathaniel gave her his best wink, mimicking Stratford’s actions. “Miss Sullyard, I have never seen its equal. You do indeed have quite the talent. And the paintings are so diminutive. However did you manage to portray so much detail in a tiny space?”

  She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I know not. It’s something we’ve just always done.”

  “We?”

  “My sisters and I.” She tilted her head to the other young woman. “And Cousin Robert. That is, he used to. Before his arthritis.”

  The sister stood and strolled to the opposite wall. With her back turned, she appeared to be admiring the framed covers of past issues of the magazine.

  Nathaniel lowered his voice and tapped the paper lightly. “Your siblings are this talented, as well?”

  She ducked her head. “My younger sisters are more talented than I.”

  “Hard to imagine.” Nathaniel leaned ever so slightly in her direction.

  “Thank you for the kind words. But it’s true. Lydia and Patience are incredible artists. I only wish I had their gift.”

  “I haven’t seen their work and don’t know of their gifts, but I honestly cannot envision anyone possessing more talent than you have conveyed in this tiny panorama.”

  “You are most kind. Might I inquire… how are you and Mr. Bexley—” She tilted her chin in the direction of the hallway. “—related?”

  Blast! Why did she want to talk about Stratford? “Cousins.” Unfortunately. “I’m afraid I’m not fortunate enough to have siblings as you do.”

  “There are days I wish I was an only child.” Her words came out as a whisper. She bit her lip, and her eyes crinkled at the corners. Was she trying not to show mirth?

  “There are days I—” Nathaniel darted a quick glance to the open doorway and back. “—wish I had no cousins, as well.”

  Laugher bubbled up from his chest, which seemed to give Miss Sullyard permission to add her own mirth. Adorable giggles popped from her lips, the sound quite like the champagne his aunt insisted on at Christmas dinner.

  Nathaniel was vaguely aware of people moving past the room in the hallway and of Miss Sullyard’s sister several feet away. But somehow, the thrill of being in the room nearly alone with her, even though the door was open and they weren’t truly alone, overshadowed anything that was happening apart from Miss Sullyard and him.

  “Your cousin told me some of what he does here at the magazine. What is it you happen to do, Mr. Bexley?

  Most of Stratford’s work and all of mine. Again with the cousin. At least she wanted to know something about Nathaniel too. He waved a hand. “A little of a lot of things.”

  “If you’ve talent in many things, then I daresay you’re quite important to the company.”

  “I don’t know about that. While it’s true that the business is run by my family, I’m only a nephew, not a…”

  “Son?”

  Nathaniel’s face heated. “Not that I have any complaints, mind you.” He slid a quick glance at the doorway, relieved to see no one there. Wouldn’t that be just perfect if Stratford or Uncle Gilbert happened along right then?

  She placed her hand on his arm. “Oh, of course not. I hadn’t meant anything untoward by that. Please don’t…”

  Heat seeped through his clothing to his skin under the spot where her hand was. Extraordinary that he’d feel such intense warmth when he had not only his shirt over his skin, but his coat. Nathaniel peered directly at her, not letting his natural backwardness take over. He neither blinked nor looked away, willing her to know how her touch affected him.

  Miss Sullyard gasped. She pulled her hand away and placed it in her lap. “Pardon me for—”

  “Nothing to pardon. Nothing in the least.” Nathaniel captured her gloved hand in his.

  I cannot believe I’m doing this.

  “Oh.” A smile touched her lips, and he had a very strong urge to see if her skin there was as soft as it appeared. Would it be—

  “Well, now. What have we here?”

  Nathaniel jumped just as Miss Sullyard gasped and leaned away. Stratford stood a few feet from them, arms crossed over his chest. His glare was aimed directly at Nathaniel.

  “Just admiring Miss Sullyard’s panorama.” Nathaniel stood and forced a pleasant expression. If only his pesky cousin could have stayed away a little longer.

  With a grin directed at Miss Sullyard, Stratford bowed. “You’ll be pleased to know that my father would be delighted to commission you to paint some of your extraordinary panoramas as enticement to potential subscribers.”

  Her eyes brightened “How wonderful.” An expression of relief passed over her features. Was it so important to her to have gotten this position? Nathaniel eyed her dress again. Perhaps, yes. The other women that Stratford paraded around were dressed to the nines. Miss Sullyard’s apparel, however, appeared to have been worn a tad too many years.

  Nathaniel’s attention moved to his cousin. Why are you sniffing after her, Stratford? She’s not your usual type. No, his type were ones he met at night. Ones who lived in a different part of town. Was there some other reason his cousin was interested in someone like her?

  Miss Sullyard accepted Stratford’s proffered hand to help her stand. She took a deep breath, which showed her décolletage to its finest advantage, and gave a sigh.

  Perhaps it wasn’t such a mystery, after all.