Free Sweet Deception Regency 07 - The Divided Hearts by Karla Darcy Page B

the namby-pamby notion of a picnic.
    “Plans are plans, Patrick,” Nate said.
“Besides Lady Judith would much prefer the place we’re going than
the tavern. One must always try to please the ladies.”
    “I shall remember that, Master Bellingham.”
Judith smiled at Nate, pleased when he responded in kind. She had
noticed before that, when he smiled natural ly, his face had the
look of a roguish pirate that she found quite compelling.
    “What happened to the soldiers?” Patrick
asked, far more interested in war stories than the talk about
ladies.
    “The French came and scared off the British.
But until then it was a bad time for Newport.”
    “How did your father get on during the war?”
Judith asked. “Your grandmother said his loyalties were with the
British. That can’t have been easy with troops garrisoned in the
town.”
    For several moments Nate was silent, his
eyes focused inward as if to recall a time he could have had no way
of remembering. When he spoke his voice was neutral, refusing to
hint at his own feelings or judgments.
    “It was a strange war in many respects. The
split from England was in no way embraced whole-heartedly by the
general populace. Everyone had ties to England. Most had family
there. But freedom has always been important in Rhode Island.” He
turned his head, smiling in her direction. “I know this does not
sound like an answer to your question but to understand you need to
know a little background.”
    “Fustian, as Father would say,” Judith
replied inelegantly. “I am enjoying my lesson.”
    “Roger Williams established a settlement in
what is now Rhode Island. He had originally been in the
Massachusetts Bay Colony but found himself in trouble with the
authorities because of his views on religious freedom. He fled
Massachusetts and settled to the north of Newport. There has always
been a wonderful mix of religions in Rhode Island. It was one of
the first of the colonies to declare its independence. Freedom is a
tradition here.”
    As he spoke, Nate looked straight ahead over
the backs of the horses. Judith watched his profile, speculating on
the thoughts behind his words. At times she wondered if his
allegiance were with the English. It was nothing definite, only an
occasional inflection in his voice that she could have mistaken.
She listened to his words, surprised at her own fascination with
the character of this puzzling man.
    “Much of the war fervor was centered around
the cities and towns. The farms, unless there was fighting nearby,
were left alone. When the British arrived, my father knew that he
could not remain neutral. To his credit, it appears that he had no
desire to hug the fence line. He wanted to fight for his beliefs.
But he refused to fight friends and neighbors. He sailed with
General Howe when the British retreated from Boston to New York. In
his very first battle, father was captured by the American
forces.”
    “Was he injured?” Patrick piped in.
    Nate smiled down at the child, perhaps aware
that bloody battles were the stuff of boyish dreams. “He got a ball
through his leg for his troubles.”
    “I’m sorry,” Judith said, knowing her own
father had fought in the latter stages of the war and had blessedly
survived unscathed.
    “He walked with a limp, which made him a
romantic looking hero. At any rate, he was interned on his word and
returned to the farm. He remained there, I gather, without incident
throughout the war.”
    “Was there no resentment?” Judith asked.
    “There were too many families split by the
war. They knew where his loyalties lay but he accepted the union
and for most that was the important issue.”
    There was silence when he finished speaking,
but it was an easy silence, the adults content to view the passing
scene. Even Patrick held his tongue until the carriage arrived at
the picnic site.
    “It’s bleedin’ perfect,” Patrick enthused as
he stared down the hill to the bay and the ocean beyond. At Nate’s
throat