Sweet Deception Regency 07 - The Divided Hearts by Karla Darcy

a
permanence and tenacity to the way the houses and farms clung to
the hillside and the curve of the bay. Newport characterized the
fresh individuality of America that prohibited its return to a
dominated colony of another country.
    “Would you rather we return to town,
Father?” Judith asked. “It’s not necessary to continue to the
Woodbridge party. I’m sure Priscilla would understand. She didn’t
strike me as a bad sort. Bit fluttery, but her eyes were
friendly.”
    “She’s a right one, as Timothy would say.
It’s not Priscilla I object to but the gathering which is dominated
by those with English leanings. I’m not normally invited to their
parties, what with my radical politics and patriot affiliations,”
Simon said. His voice was stiff with hauteur as he looked down his
nose at Judith, but his eyes twinkled merrily.
    “I suspect the English are not too well
liked. I felt a certain wariness after church this morning, but
everyone was civil to me. For your sake, I would imagine. They’re
all waiting to see which way the cat will jump,” she finished.
    “Such a cynic, for one so young,” Simon
remarked, patting her hand with approval. “Hardly what one would
expect from a London miss. You’ve a certain practical outlook on
life that you could not have learned during embroidery lessons with
your mother.”
    “It’s your fault, you old fox. Every time
you visited England you showed me a different life than one learns
in a London drawing room. Poor mother. How horrified she would have
been had she any idea of the places we visited.” They chuckled in
remembrance of some of their more exciting adventures. “You were
always like a breath of fresh air, blowing the cobwebs out of my
mind. It made me question much of what I saw around me.”
    “Perhaps it would have been better had I
left you alone,” Simon said, staring out across the horses
backs.
    “Never think it!” Judith gasped. “I needed
you in my life.”
    “It’s not that, my dear, for I’d not trade a
moment of our visits. It’s that I wondered if by showing you the
seamier side of London life, I made you question your own role in
that society.”
    “I don’t know, Father,” Judith said,
hesitating as she tried to organize her own thoughts. “Sometimes I
felt apart from the main concerns of the other girls my age but
perhaps because I wanted more out of relationships than most were
willing to give. And of course there was always my abominable
curiosity. Mother reminded me frequently that a proper young lady
does not question. She accepts.”
    “Never say!” Simon boomed in amusement. “I
shall have to remember that the next time we get into a
discussion.”
    “You, on the other hand, told me that only
an imbecile closed his eyes against the questions in his mind,”
Judith continued, pointing an accusatory finger at her father.
“Every time you visited you showed me a world I’d never
contemplated. Stories of your travels fired my imagination. You
taught me how much more there was to life outside of Almack’s and
Prinny’s court that at times I felt imprisoned.”
    “Then it’s glad I am that you’ve come to see
America. It’s an enormous country and there’s little here to
confine you.”
    Simon clucked at the horses and the team
picked up it’s pace on the road. Judith reveled in the hilly
country that was rising above the bay. Then, as they crested the
hill, her eyes widened at her first view of the enormous house
perched on the edge of the cliff.
    “Good Heavens, Father! Is that the
Woodbridge’s house?” Judith asked. “It’s like something out of a
dream.”
    “More like a nightmare.” Simon wrinkled his
nose at the pretentious structure. “It’s supposed to be a copy of
Mount Vernon, the home of George Washington. Done by some
toffy-headed apprentice to the original architect who worked with
Washington on his renovations. But I’ve been to Virginia and I can
tell you this in no way resembles that