Counterfeit Lady

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Counterfeit Lady Page 22

by Jude Deveraux


  “Who is the cousin?”

  “I don’t remember her name. Abe said she was really Mr. Armstrong’s wife, that the little one was a liar and wanted to take what should have been Abe’s.”

  “Bianca,” Wes said in wonder. He’d always felt she was at the bottom of all this; now he was sure. Wes stared at the child, then grinned at her. “Honey, if you were older, I think I’d kiss you for this. Here.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a twenty-dollar gold piece. “My mother gave it to me. It’s yours now.”

  He pressed the gold into the child’s hand.

  She held onto it tightly and gaped at him. No one had ever given her anything except curses and beatings. To her, Wesley, so clean and smelling so good, was like an angel come to earth. Her voice was very quiet. “When I grow up, will you marry me?”

  Wesley grinned broadly. “I just might.” He stood up. Then, on impulse, he kissed her cheek heartily. “Come see me when you grow up.” He turned away quickly and went toward the sloop where Clay and Travis waited impatiently. The news that Bianca was involved and had some information about Nicole’s whereabouts sent all memory of the little girl from his mind.

  But not so the child. She stood silently, watching the departing sloop. All her thirteen years she’d been isolated with her family. She’d never known there was anything outside her father’s meanness, her mother’s hardship. No one had ever been kind to her, no one had ever kissed her before. She touched her cheek where Wes had kissed her, then turned away. She had to find a hiding place for the gold piece.

  Bianca saw Clay running from the wharf to the house, and she smiled to herself. She knew he would find out she was involved in Nicole’s disappearance, and she was ready for him. She sipped on the last of the chocolate, finished the last apple turnover, then delicately wiped her mouth.

  She was in the upstairs bedroom, and she smiled as she looked around it. It had changed greatly in the last two months. It wasn’t so plain anymore. There was pink tulle everywhere, and the finials on the bed had been gilded. The mantel was covered with little porcelain figures. She sighed. It wasn’t nearly complete, but she was working on it.

  Clay burst into the room, his heavy boots clanging on the hardwood floors. Bianca winced at his crudeness and made a mental note to order more carpets.

  “Where is she?” Clay demanded, his voice flat and hard.

  “I take it I am supposed to know what that means.” Bianca rubbed her plump upper arms and thought of the winter furs she’d order.

  Clay took one long stride toward her, his eyes narrowed.

  Bianca gave him a look of warning. “You touch me, and you’ll never find her.”

  Clay backed away.

  “How disgusting!” Bianca sneered. “The mere hint of danger to that lying little slut, and it makes you quiver.”

  “If you value your life, you’ll tell me where she is.”

  “If you value her life, you’ll keep your distance from me.”

  Clay gritted his teeth. “What do you want? I’ll give you half of everything I own.”

  “Half? I thought she’d be worth more.”

  “All of it, then. I’ll sign the entire plantation over to you.”

  Bianca smiled and walked to the window to straighten a curtain. She fingered the pink silk. “I don’t know what I’ve done to make everyone think I’m stupid. I’m not unintelligent at all. If you signed this place over to me, then took your dear French whore away, what would happen to me?”

  Clay clenched his fists to his sides. It was all he could do to keep from strangling her, but he would do nothing to endanger Nicole.

  “I’ll tell you what would happen to me,” Bianca continued. “Within one year, this place would be bankrupt. You Americans are a disgusting lot. Your servants think they are as good as their masters. They would never obey me. Then, after I am bankrupt, what happens? Maybe you’d return and buy the place back for a song. You’d have everything you wanted, and I’d have nothing.”

  “Then what else can I give you?” Clay sneered.

  “I wonder how much you really love my maid?”

  Clay was silent, staring at her. He wondered how he could ever have thought she looked like Beth.

  “You say you’ll readily give me your property, but will you give me anything else in order to save her? Let me explain. I guess you know that I have cousins in America. Not exactly the type one would introduce in public, but useful—oh, yes, very useful. The man Abe was agreeable to anything I suggested.”

  “Where has he taken her?”

  Bianca sneered at him. “Do you think I’m going to tell you so easily? After all you’ve done to me? You’ve humiliated me, used me. I’ve been here for months, waiting and waiting, while you flaunted that bitch in front of the whole world. Now it’s my turn to keep you waiting.

  “Now, where was I? My dear cousins, of course. In exchange for a few farm animals, they agreed to do whatever I wanted, including, I’m sure, murder.”

  Clay took a step backward. Murder had not entered his mind.

  Bianca smiled at his reaction. “I believe you’re beginning to understand. Now, let me tell you what I want. I want to be mistress of this plantation. I want you to run it, and I want to enjoy its benefits. When I appear in society, I want to do so as a respectable married woman, not as some unneeded appendage as I was at the Backes’s party. I want the servants to obey me.”

  She turned away from him for a moment; then, when she looked back, her voice was quiet. “Are you familiar with the Revolution in France? Everyone reminds me of my former maid’s relatives in France. They were, I believe, mostly beheaded. The mob is still angry in France, still looking for aristocrats to take to their guillotine.”

  She paused. “This time Abe only took her to an island buried in the Virginia waterways, but next time she’ll be put on a ship back to France.” She smiled. “And don’t think that getting rid of Abe will rid you of the threat. He has relatives everywhere, all of whom would be glad to help me in any way I want. And if anything happens to me, including so much as a hangnail caused by you, I’ve left money to ensure that Nicole is returned to France.”

  Clay felt as if someone had kicked him in the stomach. He took a step backward and collapsed into a chair. The guillotine! The story of Nicole’s grandfather, his head on a pike, was vivid. The way she had clung to him, terrified of all that had happened to her, whirled in his head. He couldn’t risk the possibility of her returning to that horror.

  His chin shot up. He’d keep her safe, always watch over her, never let her out of his sight. Then he knew how hopeless an idea that was. At the Backes’s, she’d only been away from him for two hours. She would have to live like a prisoner. And one moment’s lost vigilance, and…what? Death? Terror worse than what she’d already known? He couldn’t do anything that would subject her to that possibility.

  He tried to reason with Bianca. “I can give you enough money so that you’ll have a good dowry. You can get an English husband if you have a dowry.”

  Bianca snorted. “You certainly don’t understand women, do you? I would return to England in dishonor. All the men would say you had paid me rather than marry me. I’m sure I’d get a husband, but he’d only laugh at me, ridicule me. I want more out of life than that.”

  Clay stood up, knocking over the chair. “What would you get if you married me? You know I couldn’t do more than hate you. Would you want that?”

  “Any woman would rather be hated than laughed at. At least hate carries an amount of healthy respect with it. Actually, I think we’d make an admirable couple. I could run your house, be your hostess. I could give magnificent parties. I would be the perfect wife. And you, on the other hand, would never be troubled by a jealous wife. As long as you ran the plantation satisfactorily, you would be completely free to pursue whatever you wish, including women.” She shuddered. “As long as you kept away from me.”

  “I assure you, you needn’t fear that I’d ever touch you.”<
br />
  She smiled. “If that was meant as an insult, it wasn’t taken as such. I have no desire to be touched by you or any other man.”

  “What about Nicole?”

  “Of course, we now go back to her. If you marry me, she will be unharmed. She may even stay at the mill, and you can visit her for your…ah, more earthly pleasures. I’m sure the two of you will enjoy your rutting.”

  “What guarantees do I have that after we’re married one of your cousins won’t pop up in the middle of the night?”

  Bianca looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’m not sure you do have a guarantee. Perhaps it will hold you to your bargain if you’re never quite sure what will happen to her.”

  Clay stood still. No guarantee. His beloved’s life depended on the whims of a greedy, selfish bitch. But what choice did he have? He could defy Bianca’s demands and remain married to Nicole, but he’d live his life terrified that he would find her dead. Did he love her so selfishly that he’d risk her life for a few months of pleasure? After all, it wasn’t his life that was in danger, but hers. Briefly, he thought of asking Nicole for her opinion, but he knew she’d risk anything to stay with him. Was his love so much weaker that he couldn’t make sacrifices for her?

  “Do you know where she is?”

  “I have a map,” Bianca smiled, as if she knew she’d won. “I want your agreement to my terms before I give it to you.”

  Clay swallowed over the lump in his throat. “The marriage cannot be annulled without the testimony of the doctor who witnessed the wedding. Very little can be done until he returns from England.”

  Bianca nodded. “I must agree to that. When he arrives, I expect the marriage to be annulled and ours to take place. If it is delayed at all, then Nicole will disappear. Is that clear?”

  Clay sneered at her. “You’ve made yourself more than clear. I want the map.”

  Bianca walked across the room to one of the porcelain figures on the bow-front cabinet, picked it up, and pulled a little roll of paper from the inside. “It’s crude,” she said, “but I believe it’s legible.” She smiled. “Dear Abe has been on the island with her for two days and a night, and it’ll be another night before you reach her. He said he planned to enjoy her. I’m sure he’s had plenty of time by now. Of course, she was quite used before she ever went with Abe. By the way, have you asked yourself why she went so readily with him? Why didn’t she scream? The wharf is only a short distance from where there were at least twenty people.”

  Clay took a step toward her, then stopped. If he so much as touched her, he’d kill her. He didn’t think his conscience would hurt him much, but he knew she’d carry out her threats even from death. He turned on his heel, the map clutched tightly in his hand, and left the room.

  Bianca stood at the window and watched him walk toward the wharf. A feeling of triumph surged through her body. She’d show them! She’d show them all! Her father had laughed at her when she’d packed to go to America. He’d said that Clay wouldn’t be too upset when he found himself married to a lovely little filly like Nicole. He’d thought the story of the mistaken marriage was so good that he’d told at least twenty people before Bianca left England. No telling how many he’d told by now.

  Bianca clenched her jaw hard. She knew what they were all saying. They said Bianca was just like her mother. Her mother had taken to her bed anything that was male. As a little girl, listening to the sounds from her mother’s bedroom, Bianca had vowed never to allow a man to soil her, to put his rough, greedy hands on her fine white body.

  When Bianca’d said she was going to America, her father accused her of being like that woman, said she was hot for the crude American, just the type of man her dead mother liked. How could Bianca return to England after having spent months in Clay’s house? She’d have no wedding ring but a great deal of money, just the way her mother used to return from her many week-long trips. Even thousands of miles away, she could almost hear the snickers and see the smirks about what she’d done to earn the money.

  No! She stamped her foot. She would own the Armstrong plantation no matter what she had to do. Then, she smiled, she’d invite her father to visit her. She’d show him her wealth, her husband, their separate bedrooms. She’d prove to him that she wasn’t like her mother. Yes, she smiled. She’d show them!

  “Did she tell you?” Wes asked as soon as Clay reached the sloop.

  He held out the map. “She told me.” His voice was dead.

  “That bitch!” Wes said violently. “You ought to be horsewhipped for ever bringing her to America in the first place. And to think that you almost married her! When we get back and Nicole is safe again, I hope you throw that fat slut into the hold of a ship and get rid of her as fast as possible.”

  Clay stood silently, his dark eyes staring out at the river. He didn’t answer Wesley’s tirade; there was little he could say. Could he tell his friends he probably would marry Bianca after all?

  “Clay?” Travis asked quietly, his voice full of concern. “Are you all right? You don’t think your wife has been harmed, do you?”

  Clay turned, and Travis frowned at the bleakness of his friend’s face. “How should a man feel when he’s just sold his soul to the devil?” he asked quietly.

  Isaac cleaned the pan of the last of the rabbit and baked apples. He put the pan down and rested against the stone wall of the cabin, his legs stretched stiffly out on the grass. His thigh, tightly bound with strips of Nicole’s petticoat, throbbed. As he closed his eyes and let the sun beat down on him, he smiled into the warmth. The air around the little island smelled bad, the water was alive with poisonous snakes, they had little or no hope of rescue, but Isaac had no desire to leave the place. In the last two days, he’d eaten better than he ever had at home, even though Nicole had only one pan to cook in. He’d been able to rest, something else that was new to his life.

  He smiled more broadly as he heard the familiar swish of Nicole’s velvet skirt. He opened his eyes and waved at her. She’d taken the lace off her petticoat and tied little bows down the front of her dress to hold it together where Abe had slashed it. Isaac was amazed at her. All his life, he’d thought the women who lived in the big houses were useless, but Nicole had shown no hysterics after the knife fight with Abe. She’d knelt and bound Isaac’s wound to stop the bleeding, then calmly gone to sleep.

  In the morning, the door was revealed to have hinges of heavy leather. Nicole used Isaac’s pocket knife and sawed at the leather, while Isaac leaned against the door to keep it from falling. It had taken all their strength to open the door enough to slip through. Afterward, Isaac rested while Nicole made a snare from a piece of cord trim on her petticoat and caught a rabbit. Isaac was astonished that she knew how to do something of that nature. Nicole laughed and said her grandfather had taught her how to make a snare.

  “Are you feeling better?” Nicole asked, smiling down at him. Her hair hung down her back to her waist, thick and rich.

  “Yes. ’Cept maybe I’m lonesome. Could you talk to me?”

  Nicole smiled and sat down beside him.

  “Why ain’t you afraid?” Isaac asked. “I think most women would be scared to death of this place.”

  Nicole thought for a moment. “I think emotions are relative. There have been times when I’ve been very, very frightened. In comparison, this place seems almost safe. We have food and water, the weather isn’t too cold yet, and when your leg is better, we’ll get off the island.”

  “You’re sure of that? Have you looked into the water lately?”

  She smiled. “Snakes do not scare me. Only people can truly hurt you.”

  Isaac felt a strong stab of guilt. She hadn’t asked a single question about why he and Abe had abducted her. She could have, and probably should have, let him bleed to death.

  “You’re staring at me oddly,” Nicole said.

  “What’s going to happen when we do get back to civilization?”

  Nicole felt a surge of joy shoot through her. Cl
ay, she thought. She would leave the mill in someone else’s hands and return to Clay’s house. She’d be there with him and the twins, as they were once, except now Bianca would have no power to come between them.

  Her thoughts returned to Isaac. “I don’t guess you want to return to your home. Maybe you’d like to work for me at the mill. I’m sure we could use another man.”

  Isaac’s face changed from one color to another. “How can you offer me a job after what I’ve done to you?” he whispered.

  “You saved my life.”

  “But I brought you here! You would never have been in this situation if it hadn’t been for me.”

  “That’s not true, and you know it,” she said. “If you’d refused to go with Abe, he would have taken someone else or come alone. Then what would have happened to me?” She put her hand on his arm. “I owe you a lot. The least I can do is offer you a job.”

  He stared at her silently for several minutes. “You’re a lady, a real lady. I think my life is going to be better since meeting you.”

  She laughed, and he watched the sunlight play on her hair. “And you, kind sir, would do well in any court in the world. Your gallantry is excessive.”

  He grinned back at her, happier than he ever had been in his life.

  Suddenly, Nicole jumped. “What was that?”

  Isaac sat still and listened. “Get me the knife,” he whispered. “And you hide. Slip into the scum at the edge of the water. No one will ever find you there. Whatever you do, don’t come out until it’s safe.”

  Nicole gave him her sweetest smile. She had no intention of abandoning him, wounded as he was, to the mercies of whoever approached so quietly. And she certainly had no intention of burying herself in the scum of the water. She handed Isaac the knife. Then, when she went to help him stand, he pushed her away.

  “Go!” he commanded.

  Nicole slipped behind the willow trees at the edge of the island, then slowly made her way toward the quiet footsteps. She saw Travis first, his broad, thick form unmistakable. Instantly, her eyes blurred with tears. Hastily, she wiped them away and watched Travis as he walked away from her.

 

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