Counterfeit Lady

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Counterfeit Lady Page 18

by Jude Deveraux


  “I don’t know what you mean,” Bianca said.

  “You can be honest with me. Clay told me the whole story. You came all the way from England, expecting to marry Clay, only to find he’d married someone else. Now he openly lives with her.”

  “You do understand!” Bianca cried gratefully. “Everyone seems to be against me, and I don’t understand why. They should be against that awful woman, Nicole. I’m the one who’s been wronged.”

  “Tell me, Bianca, why did you want to marry Clay in the first place?”

  She was silent.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Wes continued. “It seems that we could help each other. You know, of course, that Clay is a man of some means.” He smiled at Bianca’s eager nod. “The last few years, my own plantation hasn’t been doing so well. If you were mistress of Arundel Hall, you could help me.”

  “How?”

  “Now and then a piece of livestock could stray onto my land or maybe a few bushels of wheat could disappear. Clay wouldn’t miss them.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But you’d be his wife. You’d own half the plantation.”

  Bianca smiled. “Of course. Could you help me get to be his wife? At first, I was sure I would be, but lately I’m not so sure.”

  “Of course you’ll be his wife. If you’ll help me, I’ll help you.”

  “I will. But how will you get rid of that awful Nicole? She throws herself at him and, stupid man that he is, he enjoys her harlot’s ways.”

  “I’ve heard enough,” Clay said flatly from where he towered over Bianca.

  She turned, her hand flying to her throat. “Clay! You gave me such a fright! I had no idea you were near.”

  Clay ignored her and turned to Wes. “There was really no need for this. It took me a while, but I finally saw what you meant. She’s not Beth.”

  “No,” Wes said quietly, “she’s not.” He stood up, his eyes going from Clay to Bianca. “I think you have some talking to do.”

  Clay nodded, then held out his hand. “I owe you a lot.”

  Wes grinned and shook his friend’s hand. “I haven’t forgotten that punch you gave me. But I’ll pick my time to repay you.”

  Clay laughed. “It’ll take you and Travis both.”

  Wesley snorted, then left Clay alone with Bianca.

  She was beginning to understand that Clay had heard all of her conversation with Wes and that Wes had purposely planned it so he would. “How dare you eavesdrop on me?” she breathed as Clay sat opposite her.

  “Your words didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. Tell me, why did you come to America?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “I once thought I loved you, and I asked you to marry me. I was…haunted by you for a long time, but now I realize that I never loved you, that I never even knew you.”

  “What are you trying to say? I have letters where you say you’ll marry me. It’s against the law to go back on a proposal.”

  Clay looked at her in astonishment. “How could you consider a breach of promise when I’m already married? No court in the world would ask me to leave my wife to marry someone else.”

  “They would when I tell them the circumstances of the marriage.”

  Clay’s jaw hardened. “What do you want? Money? I’ll pay you for your time. You’ve already accumulated a sizable wardrobe.”

  Bianca fought back tears. How could this crude Colonial ruffian understand what she wanted? In England, she’d not been able to mingle with the crowd of people who had once been her family’s peers because of her lack of wealth. Some of the people she knew in her reduced status laughed behind her back at her proposal from an American. They insinuated that she couldn’t get anyone else. Bianca had hinted that she’d had several proposals, but it wasn’t true.

  So what did she really want? She wanted what her family had once had—security, position, freedom from bill collectors, the feeling that she was wanted and needed. “I want the Armstrong plantation,” she said quietly.

  Clay sat back in the chair. “You certainly don’t ask for much, do you? I can’t, or won’t, give it to you. I’ve grown to love Nicole, and I mean to keep her as my wife.”

  “But you can’t! I came all the way from England. You have to marry me!”

  Clay raised one eyebrow. “You will return to England in as much comfort as can be managed. I will try to compensate you for your time and for…the breach of promise. It is the best I can do.”

  Bianca glared at him. “Who do you think you are, you insufferable, uneducated boor? Do you think I ever wanted to marry you? I only came when I heard you had some money. Do you think you’re going to discard me like so much baggage? Do you think I’m going to return to England as a jilted woman?”

  Clay stood up. “I don’t give a good goddamn what you do. You’re going back as soon as possible, even if I have to personally throw you in the hold.” He turned on his heel and left her. If he stood near her another minute, he just might hit her.

  Bianca was seething. Never would she allow that disgusting man to jilt her. He thought he could demand that she marry him, then he could command her to go away just as easily, just as if she were a serving girl. Nicole! That’s who was the scullery maid! Yet he tossed her, Bianca, aside for that lower-class scullion.

  Her hands made fists at her side. She wouldn’t allow him to do it! Once an ancestor of hers had known the nephew of the king of England. She was an important person, with power and influence.

  Family, she thought. Those men this morning had said they were part of her family. Yes, she smiled. They’d help her. They’d get the plantation for her. Then no one would laugh at her!

  Clay stood under the roof of one of Ellen’s several porches. The cold shower beat down around him, isolating him. He took a cigar from his pocket and lit it, inhaling deeply on it. He’d had time in the last few days to curse himself for a fool, but today curses weren’t enough.

  In spite of what he’d said to Wes, seeing Bianca in a clear light had been a revelation. His mind had always been hindered by the vision of Beth.

  He sat on the porch railing, one long leg on the floor as he watched the rain begin to slacken. Through the trees, he could see a faint glimmer of sunlight. Nicole had known what Bianca was, he thought. Yet Nicole had always been gracious and kind to the woman, had never been hostile or allowed her anger to vent itself on her.

  He smiled and threw the cigar stub into the wet grass. The rain was dripping off the eaves of the house, but already the sun was making the drops sparkle on the lawn. He glanced up toward the window of the room where Nicole slept. Or did she? he wondered. How had she reacted when she saw Bianca at the party?

  He went inside the house, through the corridors, and up the stairs to their room. Nicole was the most giving person he’d ever met. She’d love him, his children, his servants, even his animals, yet she’d never ask anything in return.

  He knew she wasn’t asleep as soon as he opened the door. He went straight to the wardrobe and grabbed a dress, a plain calico one of chocolate brown. “Get dressed,” he said calmly. “I want to take you somewhere.”

  Chapter 12

  SLOWLY, SHE THREW BACK THE COVERS AND SLIPPED her chemise over her head. Her body felt stiff with misery. At least he hadn’t forgotten her, she thought. At least this time his beloved Bianca’s presence hadn’t completely blinded him. Or maybe he was taking her back to the mill, as far away from Bianca as possible.

  She didn’t ask where they were going. Her hands shook so badly as she buttoned the dress that Clay’s hands pushed hers away. He looked at her face, watched her eyes, enormous and liquid, filled with fear and longing.

  He bent and kissed her softly, and her mouth clung to his. “I don’t guess I’ve given you much reason to trust me, have I?”

  She could only stare at him, her throat too swollen to speak.

  He smiled at her in a fatherly way, then took her hand and led her from the room and out of the house. She lifted her long sk
irt to keep it off the wet grass. Clay pulled her behind him quickly, paying little attention to the fact that she had to nearly run to keep up with his long strides.

  He handed her into the sloop without saying a word, then untied the boat and unfurled the sail. The elegant little boat sliced through the water cleanly and swiftly. Nicole sat calmly, watching him at the helm of the ship. The sheer width of him looked like a mountain to Nicole—impenetrable, mysterious, something she loved but didn’t understand.

  Her chest began to tighten when she saw they were heading back toward the Armstrong plantation. She’d been right! He was returning her to the mill. The iron band around her chest was too tight for her to cry. When they sailed past the wharf to the mill, she felt her breath release and a wave of joy flow through her.

  At first, she didn’t recognize the place where Clay stopped. It seemed an impenetrable mass of foliage. He stepped out of the boat, the water up to his ankles, tied the boat, and then held his arms out for her. Gratefully, she nearly fell into them. He stared at her a moment in amusement before he carried her through the hidden gate and into the beautiful clearing. The rain had made everything fresh and new. The sunlight glittered on the raindrops on the hundreds of flowers.

  Clay put Nicole down, then sat down against the big rock by the flowers and pulled her into his lap. “I know how you hate to get grass stain on your dress,” he teased.

  She was serious as she looked up at him. Her eyes looked worried, frightened. She nibbled at her upper lip. “Why did you bring me here?” she whispered.

  “I think it’s time we talked.”

  “About Bianca?” Her voice was barely audible.

  His eyes searched hers. “Why is there fear in your eyes? Do I frighten you?”

  She blinked several times. “Not you, but what you have to say. That frightens me.”

  He pulled her against him, her head snuggled against his shoulder. “If you don’t mind listening, I’d like to tell you about me, about my family, about Beth.”

  All she could do was nod silently. She wanted to know everything about him.

  “I had one of those idyllic childhoods that was like the fairy tales you tell the twins,” he began. “James and I were loved and disciplined by the two most wonderful parents ever created. My mother was a lovely, kind woman. She had a great sense of humor, which bewildered James and me when we were younger. If she’d pack a lunch for us to go fishing, sometimes we’d open a crock and find a frog inside. It used to embarrass us that she could catch more fish than any of us.”

  Nicole smiled against him, imagining his mother. “What about your father?”

  “He adored her. Even when James and I were grown, they’d romp and play like children. It was a very happy household.”

  “Beth,” Nicole whispered, and felt him stiffen for a moment.

  “Beth was our overseer’s daughter. Her mother died when Beth was born, and she had no brothers or sisters. My mother just naturally took the little girl under her wing. And James and I did, too. James was eight when Beth was born, and I was four. There was never any jealousy about the little baby my mother gave so much time to. I remember carrying her around myself. When she could walk, she followed us everywhere. James and I couldn’t spend a day in the fields without little Beth right beside us. I learned to ride a horse with Beth behind me.”

  “And you fell in love with her.”

  “Not fell, exactly. Both James and I were always in love with her.”

  “Yet she married James.”

  Clay was quiet for a moment. “It wasn’t like that. I don’t think anyone ever mentioned it, but we always knew she would marry James. I don’t guess he ever actually proposed. I remember we had a party for Beth’s sixteenth birthday, and James said didn’t she think it was time they set a date. The twins were born before she was seventeen.”

  “What was she like?”

  “Happy,” Clay said quietly. “She was the happiest person I ever knew. She loved so many people. She was a woman full of energy, always laughing. One year, the crops were so bad we thought we were going to have to sell Arundel Hall. Even Mother stopped smiling. But not Beth. She told us all to stop feeling sorry for ourselves and do something. By the end of the week, we were able to map out a plan of economy so we’d survive the winter. It wasn’t an easy winter, but we were able to keep the plantation, all because of Beth.”

  “Yet they all died,” Nicole whispered, thinking of her own family as much as his.

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “There was a cholera epidemic. There were many deaths throughout the county. First my father died, then my mother. I didn’t think any of us would recover from the blow, but in a way I was glad they went together. They wouldn’t have liked being separated.”

  “But you still had James and Beth and the twins.”

  “Yes,” he smiled. “We were still a family.”

  “You didn’t want your own home, your own wife and children?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “It sounds odd now, but I was content. There were women when I wanted them. There was a pretty little weaver who—” He stopped and chuckled. “I don’t guess you want to hear about that.”

  Nicole vigorously nodded her head in agreement.

  “I don’t guess I ever met anyone who fit in with the three of us. We’d spent our childhoods together, and we knew each other’s thoughts and wishes as well as our own. James and I worked together, rarely speaking even, then we’d go home to Beth. She…I don’t know how to say it, she made us welcome. I know she was James’s wife, but she took care of me just as well. She was always cooking things for me, making me new shirts.”

  He stopped. He held Nicole close to him, buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair.

  “Tell me about Bianca,” she whispered.

  His voice was very low when he spoke. “At one of the house parties Beth gave, a visitor, a man from England, kept staring at Beth. Finally, he told her that he’d recently met a young woman who could be Beth’s twin. James and I laughed at him because we knew no one could be like our Beth. But Beth was very interested. She asked the man a hundred questions and carefully took down Bianca Maleson’s address. She said that if she ever visited England, she’d see if she could find Miss Maleson.”

  “But you went to England first.”

  “Yes. We felt we weren’t getting as good a price from our English markets for our cotton and tobacco as we should have gotten. At first, James and Beth planned to go and I’d stay here with the twins, but Beth discovered she was going to have another baby. She said nothing would make her risk losing the baby on an ocean voyage, so I’d have to go alone.”

  “And she asked you to go see Bianca.”

  Clay’s body turned rigid as he gripped Nicole tightly. “James and Beth were drowned only days after I left, but it took months for the news to reach me in England. I had just finished my business and had traveled to Bianca’s house. By then I was terribly homesick. I was tired of poorly cooked meals and having to arrange for my shirts to be washed. I only wanted to go home to my family. But I knew Beth would have my hair if I didn’t make an effort to see this woman who was supposed to look like her. I’d been invited to stay with the Englishman who’d told Beth about Bianca. When Bianca walked into the room, all I did was stare. Right then, I wanted to grab her and hug her and ask her about James and the twins. It was hard for me to believe she wasn’t Beth.”

  He stopped for a moment. “The next day, a man came to tell me about James and Beth. He’d been sent by Ellen and Horace, and it’d taken him a long time to find me.”

  “It was shock as much as grief, wasn’t it?” Nicole said from experience.

  “I was stunned. I couldn’t believe it was true, but the man had seen both of them taken from the river. All I could think was that when I returned to Arundel Hall, it would be empty. My parents were gone, and now James and Beth were gone. I thought about remaining in England, having Horace sell the plantation.”

  “But
Bianca was there.”

  “Yes, Bianca was there. I began to think that Beth wasn’t really gone, that it was an omen that news of her death reached me while I was near a woman so like her. At least I thought Bianca was like her. All I could do was stare at her and tell myself that Beth was still alive, at least someone I loved was still with me. I asked Bianca to marry me. I wanted her to return to Virginia with me so I wouldn’t have to enter an empty house, but she said she needed time. I had no time. I knew I needed to go home. Knowing that Bianca was going to join me soon, I felt I could face the plantation, and I hoped the work would help me forget.”

  “Nothing can make you forget.”

  He kissed her forehead. “I did the work of two men, three maybe, but nothing could even dull the pain. I stayed away from the house as much as possible. The emptiness of the place screamed at me. The neighbors tried to help, they even tried to find me a wife, but I only wanted things the way they were.”

  “You wanted Beth and James back.”

  “Every day, the idea of Beth once again sitting beside me grew stronger and stronger. I accepted James’s death, but I was haunted by Bianca. I thought she could replace Beth.”

  “So you arranged for her to be kidnapped and brought to you.”

  “Yes. It was a desperate measure, but I felt desperate, like I was going crazy.”

  Nicole moved her cheek against his chest. “No wonder you were so angry when you found out I’d been married to you instead of Bianca. You were expecting a tall blonde, and you got—”

  “A little dark beauty with a funny mouth,” he laughed. “If you’d taken a pistol to me, I’d have deserved it. I put you through a lot then.”

  “But you were expecting Bianca!” she said in his defense, lifting her head to look at him.

  He pushed her back to his shoulder. “Thank God I didn’t get her! I was a fool to think any human could replace another.”

  His words sent a thrill through her. “Do you still love Bianca?”

  “I never did. I know that now. All I saw was her resemblance to Beth. Even when she came here, I never listened to her or thought about her as anything except Beth. Yet even in that state of ignorance, I knew something was wrong. I thought that when Bianca was in my house everything would be all right again, that I would feel like I did when Beth was alive.”

 

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