Chapter Eight
Nathaniel waited 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 might raise eyebrows at his uncharacteristic 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 by 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, raised her head and stared into his eyes. “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 glanced down 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. Wanting to hold her hand again but suddenly nervous, he held out his arm for her 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 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’m Kitty.”
“A lovely name.”
“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 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. 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 near the track. The thump of hoof beats, close by, came from the same direction.
Nathaniel whipped his head around. “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 fie
ld.
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. 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 desired effect. Once finished, he angled her so they were facing again. “Sure you’re unharmed, Kitty?”
She nodded. Her glance drifted to his hand on her shoulder. Was she thinking about him touching her in a very private, very personal area just moments before?
Well so am I…
Color of Deception Page 9
