Counterfeit Lady

by Jude Deveraux

  “I told you to keep quiet,” growled the man who shoved her. “Take care of her, Isaac, and see she don’t make any noise.”

  Nicole looked up at the boy, who put his hands on her shoulders. His touch was gentle. His features were softer, less harsh than the other two men’s. She lurched forward as the sloop moved, and the boy steadied her. She turned to look back at the Backes’s house. There, riding across the lawn, wearing a large white hat, was Clay. The horse he rode was crowned with a large wreath of flowers. He had obviously just won a race and was celebrating.

  Nicole’s mind clicked instantly. The men didn’t have Clay, had never held him. She knew she was close enough to the house that a scream could be heard. She opened her mouth and filled her lungs, but she never made that scream because a large, hard fist slammed into her face. She slumped, unconscious, into Isaac’s arms.

  “You had no reason to do that, Abe!” Isaac said as he supported Nicole’s limp body.

  “Like hell I didn’t. If you hadn’t been staring at her with blind eyes, you’d have seen she was about to scream.”

  “There are other ways she could have been stopped,” Isaac said. “You could have killed her!”

  “No doubt you’d have used kisses to stop her,” Abe sneered. “I’m sure she’s used to those. Why don’t you take her now? Me and Pa’ll keep watch.”

  “You’re talkin’ sinful, boy!” Elijah Simmons said. “That woman is a harlot, a sinner, and we’re takin’ her to save her soul.”

  “Sure, Pa,” Abe said as he winked at Isaac.

  Isaac looked away from his brother and picked Nicole up in his arms. He ignored Abe’s smirks. He held her as he sat on the deck, his back against the rail. He hadn’t realized she was so tiny, more like a child than a full-grown woman.

  He grimaced when Abe tossed him some rope and a dirty handkerchief and ordered him to tie her up. At least if he did it, he knew he wouldn’t hurt her fine skin.

  He’d wrestled with himself for the last day, ever since Abe had said they were going to kidnap pretty little Mrs. Armstrong. Abe had told their father that Clay was really married to their cousin Bianca, but that the harlot Nicole had bewitched Clay until he’d deserted Bianca and openly lived with the French whore. That had been enough for Elijah. He was ready to stone the girl.

  Isaac had been against the kidnapping from the beginning. He wasn’t sure he believed everything Bianca said, even if she was his own cousin. She hadn’t been exactly overjoyed to meet them that first day. But Abe kept ranting about the injustice that had been done when Nicole substituted herself for their cousin. He said they’d kidnap Nicole only long enough to get the marriage ended and allow Bianca time to marry Clay.

  Now, holding Nicole across his lap, Isaac couldn’t imagine her as a liar and a woman greedy for Clay’s money. She seemed really to care for Clay. But Abe said that any woman who looked at a man like Nicole looked at Clay wasn’t a good woman. Wives had to be good women, quiet and unphysical like their mother. Isaac was puzzled by Abe’s words, because if he had a choice, he’d rather marry a woman like Nicole than one like his mother. Maybe he and Nicole were two of a kind, both of them bad.

  “Isaac!” Abe commanded. “Stop your dreamin’ and pay attention. She’s comin’ to, and I don’t want her screamin’. Put that gag on her.”

  Isaac obeyed his brother, just as he’d done all his life.

  Slowly, Nicole opened her eyes. Her jaw and head hurt horribly, and it took a moment for her eyes to clear. She tried to flex her jaw, but something held her, nearly strangled her.

  “Be quiet,” Isaac said. “You’re safe with me.” His voice was a whisper, meant only for her ears. “I’ll take the gag off in a minute, when we get there. Close your eyes and rest.”

  “She awake yet, that daughter of Satan?” Elijah called back to his younger son.

  Nicole looked up at the boy who held her. She didn’t want to trust any of them, but she had no other choice. She watched as he slowly blinked his eyes at her. Understanding, she closed her own, blocking out the sunlight.

  “No, Pa,” Isaac called. “She’s sleepin’.”

  “Wes,” Clay said, a frown making a crease between his brows. “Have you seen Nicole?”

  Wes looked away from the pretty redhead who fluttered her lashes at him. “You lost her already, Clay? I think I’m going to have to give you lessons in keeping your women,” he teased. He stopped when he saw his friend’s face. He set down his mug of ale and followed Clay away from the tables. “You’re worried, aren’t you? How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”

  “This morning. I left her to sleep while I went to the races. Ellen said she saw Nicole come downstairs but hasn’t seen her since. I asked some of the women, but none of them has seen her.”

  “Where’s Bianca?”

  “Eating,” Clay said. “I checked her first. There’s not much she could do anyway. Several women said Bianca hasn’t left the tables all day.”

  “Could Nicole have gone for a walk, maybe just looking for some peace and quiet?”

  Clay frowned harder. “At dinner we were to announce that we planned a second marriage at Christmas. We were going to invite everyone to a party.”

  “Dinner was over an hour ago,” Wes murmured as he watched several of the guests walk toward the wharf. They were leaving to go home. “She wouldn’t have missed that.”

  “No,” Clay said flatly, “she wouldn’t.”

  The men’s eyes met. Both were remembering James’s and Beth’s deaths. If even an accomplished sailor like James could drown—

  “Let’s get Travis,” Wes said.

  Clay nodded once, then turned back to the remaining guests. The knot in his stomach was growing larger.

  When the question of Nicole’s safety was raised, the reaction of the guests was immediate. All chores were stopped and entertainment ceased. The women quickly organized a plan to comb the woods surrounding the plantation. The children ran from one dependency to another to see if Nicole could be found. The men went to the river.

  “Can she swim?” Horace asked.

  “Yes,” Clay said, his eyes scanning the water, looking for a small, dark-haired body.

  “Did you have a fight with her? Maybe she got a ride back to Arundel Hall.”

  Clay turned on Travis. “No! Goddamn it! We didn’t have a fight. She wouldn’t have left without telling me.”

  Travis put his hand on Clay’s shoulder. “Maybe she’s in the woods picking walnuts and forgot the time.” His voice said he didn’t believe that any more than Clay did. From what he’d seen of Clay’s new wife, she was a sensible, considerate young woman. “Horace,” he said quietly, “let’s get the dogs.”

  Clay turned back toward the house. It was all he could do to keep his rage under control. He was angry at himself for leaving her alone for even a few minutes and angry at her for whatever had taken her from him. But the worst of his anger was helplessness. She could be ten feet away from him, or fifty miles, and he had no idea where to start looking.

  No one noticed Bianca standing to one side, a full plate in her hand, smiling. Her work was done now, and she could go home. She was tired of hearing people ask who she was and why she lived with Clay.

  The dogs were confused by so many scents from so many people. They seemed to find Nicole’s scent everywhere, and they were probably right.

  While Horace worked with the dogs, Clay began to question people. He talked individually to every man, woman, and child on the enormous plantation. But it was always the same—no one remembered seeing her that morning. One of the slaves said he had served her some scrambled eggs but he couldn’t remember what she had done after that.

  At night, the men carried torches into the woods. Four men took their sloops up and down the river, calling for Nicole. The far side of the river was searched, but there was no sign of her.

  When morning came, the men began to straggle back to the house. They avoided Clay’s hot look of misery.
r />   “Clay!” a woman shouted, running toward him.

  His head jerked up immediately to see Amy Evans waving her bonnet at him as she ran from the wharf.

  “Is it true?” Amy asked. “Is your wife missing?”

  “Do you know something?” Clay demanded. His eyes were sunken in his head, his face covered with unshaved whiskers.

  Amy put her hand to her breast, her heart pounding from the run. “Last night, one of the men stopped at our house and asked if we’d seen your wife. Ben and I said we hadn’t, but this morning at breakfast, Deborah, my oldest, said she’d seen Nicole with Abraham Simmons down by the wharf.”

  “When!” Clay said, grabbing the stout little woman by the shoulders.

  “Yesterday morning. I sent Deborah back to the sloop to see if she could find our shawls because it was too cool without them. She said she saw Abe with his hand on Nicole’s arm, leading her toward the river. She said she never liked Abe, she wanted to stay away from him, so she went to our sloop, got the shawls, and never looked back.”

  “Did she see Nicole get on the Simmons’s boat?”

  “No, nothing. They were blocked from sight by that big cypress tree, and Deborah wanted to get back to the races. She didn’t think anything about it, didn’t even remember it until this morning at breakfast when Ben and I were talking about your wife’s disappearance.”

  Clay was staring at the woman. If Nicole had gotten onto the boat, then she was still alive. She hadn’t been drowned as he’d begun to fear. And there could be a hundred reasons why she’d gone with Abe Simmons. All the man had to do was say someone needed her, and she’d never look back.

  Clay’s hands tightened on Amy’s strong shoulders. Then he bent and gave her a resounding kiss on the mouth. “Thank you,” he breathed, his eyes once again regaining color.

  “Any time, Clay,” Amy said, laughing.

  Clay released her and turned around. His friends and neighbors were standing quietly by. None of them had had a wink of sleep all night.

  “Let’s go,” Travis said as he slapped Clay on the shoulder. “Elijah’s wife is probably having another baby, and Abe grabbed the first woman he saw.”

  Clay and Travis looked at each other for a long moment. Neither of them believed his words. Elijah was crazy and far from harmless. Abe was a sullen, high-tempered young man who openly resented the wealth of the planters around him.

  Clay turned away when someone touched his arm. Janie stood there, a full basket of food held out to him. “Take this,” she said quietly. For the first time since Clay had known her, her cheeks were no longer pink. Her whole face was gray with worry.

  Clay took the basket from her and caressed her hand firmly. Then he looked back at Travis and at Wes, who stood beside his brother. He nodded once, and the three men walked quickly toward Clay’s sloop. Wes ran to his sloop first, and when he joined Clay and his brother, he carried a brace of pistols. The men were grimly silent as they cast off and started downriver toward the Simmons’s farm.

  All day long, Nicole wavered between sleep and unconsciousness. When she was awake, the trees passing above her seemed unreal, patterns of shade and sunlight. Isaac had placed her carefully on a pile of rags and old feed bags. The slow drifting of the boat and the dull ache of her jaw made her calm, unworried about the bindings on her ankles and wrists, the gag across her mouth.

  The river system of Virginia was extensive. Abe sailed the little sloop in and out of tributaries that linked one major river to another. There were some waterways that were so narrow that the two men had to use oars to propel themselves between the enclosing trees.

  “Abe, where are you going?” Isaac asked.

  Abe smiled secretly. He had no intention of informing his brother of his destination. He’d found the little island years ago, and it’d always stayed in the back of his mind that someday it would be useful. Soon after they’d gotten the woman on board, Abe had let his father off at their farm. He knew that soon the men would be there to search for the woman, and old Elijah would hold them off. Elijah would never lie about the fact that he’d taken the woman, but it would be hours before anyone would make any sense out of his rantings. Abe smiled at his own cleverness. Now all he had to do was control the boy. He glanced back at the woman, tied helplessly, quietly lying on the heap of rags. He smiled and wet his lips.

  At sundown, Abe guided the boat toward shore.

  Isaac stood up and frowned. It had been an hour since they’d seen a light from a house. For some time, the water had been little more than stagnant green slime. The air was fetid and hostile. “Let’s get out of here,” Isaac said, looking about him. “Nobody could live in this stench.”

  “Exactly what I have planned. Jump down there and get that rowboat. Do it!” Abe commanded as Isaac started to speak.

  Isaac was too used to obeying his older brother. He didn’t like the slimy water, and even as he watched, a long snake slithered across its surface. He jumped over one side of the sloop, felt the greenish brown mud suck at his feet up to his ankles. He waded through it, the foamy slime attaching itself to his knees, and untied the little rowboat. He hopped inside and used the oars to guide the rowboat to the side of the sloop.

  Abe stood on deck holding Nicole in his arms. He handed her down to his little brother, then lowered himself into the rowboat. “Put her in the bottom and grab the oars,” he commanded. “We’ve still got a long way to go.”

  Isaac did as he was told, resting Nicole against one of his legs. He didn’t like the look of fear in her eyes, and he wanted to reassure her.

  Abe snorted as he looked at his brother. “Don’t get any ideas about her, boy. She knows who she belongs to.”

  Isaac looked away, remembering Nicole with Clay. He had no idea his brother meant differently.

  It wasn’t easy maneuvering through the thick water. Several times Isaac had to stop and free his oars from whatever piece of unseen filth held them. It was growing dark, and the overhanging trees completely blocked what little light there was. Isaac looked up, and it seemed to him that the trees were dipping toward them, trying to devour him.

  “Abe, I don’t like this place. We can’t leave her here. Why don’t we take her back to the farm?”

  “Because she’d be found there, that’s why. And I don’t believe I mentioned leaving her here. There! Pull into shore there.”

  Isaac used his oars as poles to push the little rowboat to shore. Abe jumped out and searched beside a tree for a few moments before he found a lantern. He grunted in satisfaction that it was where he left it. He lit it quickly. “Come on, follow me,” he said as he left Isaac to pick up Nicole.

  “Just a few minutes and I’ll take off the ropes,” Isaac whispered as he held Nicole in his arms.

  She nodded wearily, her head against his shoulder.

  Abe held the lantern high and revealed a short, stout door that looked to be set in nothing but darkness. “I found this place a long time ago,” he said proudly as he unfastened the latch.

  It was a small, one-room, stone cabin. Inside it was bare except for the dirt and leaves on the floor.

  Isaac put Nicole down, standing her on her unsteady feet, then took the gag off her mouth. She gasped as tears came to her eyes in gratefulness. He untied the ropes from her wrists. As he knelt to untie the bindings from her feet, Abe shouted at him.

  “What the hell are you doing? I didn’t tell you to untie her!”

  Isaac glared at his brother in the darkness. “What can she do? Can’t you see she’s so tired now she can hardly stand up? Is there anything to eat around here? And what about some water?”

  “There’s an old well out back.”

  Isaac looked around in disgust. “What is this place? Why would anyone want to build something here?”

  “It’s my guess this wasn’t always swamp. The river changed course and cut this part off. There’s wild pigs around here, plenty of rabbits, and a couple of apple trees by the shore. Now stop askin’ questions a
nd get some water. I left a tin bucket here last time.”

  Reluctantly, Isaac went out into the blackness.

  Nicole leaned against the stone wall. Her wrists and ankles ached, and she still didn’t have enough feeling in them to move them. She was only vaguely aware when Abe came to stand beside her.

  “Tired, are you?” he said quietly as his big hand caressed the side of her neck. “You’re gonna be even more tired tomorrow after I get through with you. You ain’t ever been loved like I’m gonna love you.”

  “No,” she whispered, and took a step to the side, away from him. Her numb feet refused to work, and she fell forward onto her hands and knees.

  “What did you do to her?” Isaac demanded from the doorway. He bent and lifted Nicole.

  “My God, boy!” Abe said in a half laugh. “Somebody’d think you were in love with her, the way you act. What is she to you anyway? You heard the story. She’s little better’n a whore.”

  “Are you all right?” Isaac asked, his hands on Nicole’s shoulders.

  “Yes,” she murmured.

  Isaac moved away from her, then gave her a drink from a tin cup. She drank greedily. “That’s enough,” he said. “Let’s sit down and get some rest.” He put his arm around Nicole’s shoulders and led her to the far wall.

  “You are younger’n I thought,” Abe said with distaste. He started to say more but he stopped.

  Isaac sat on the floor, then pulled Nicole down beside him. “Don’t be afraid,” he said when she stiffened. “I won’t hurt you.”

  She was too weary, too cold, too numb to care about propriety. When she sat beside Isaac, he pulled her head to his shoulder, and they both were instantly asleep.

  “Isaac!” Abe called, pushing his little brother on the shoulder. “Wake up!” His eyes were on Nicole. It angered him that the bitch gave so much to his little brother. Isaac wasn’t even a man yet, barely fifteen, and he’d never had a woman. Yet he sure acted like he knew about women, the way he handled that Nicole. Abe watched her, had watched her for the last hour as the daylight slowly entered the little cabin. Her black hair had come unpinned, and the dampness made little curls cling to her face. Her thick lashes curved across her cheek. And that mouth! It was about to drive him wild. It made him sick to see the way Isaac’s arm was so possessive around the woman, his hand resting just under her velvet-clad breast.