Counterfeit Lady

by Jude Deveraux

  “Could you tell the story with less detail?” Janie said, her hand on Nicole’s shoulder.

  The man held up a ceramic pot of mustard. “Dijon. It is good to see French things in this barbarian country.”

  “Who are you? How did you rescue my mother?” Nicole asked softly.

  He bit into a piece of cheese liberally spread with mustard, then smiled. “I am your stepfather, little daughter. Your mother and I are married.” He stood and took her hand. “I am Gerard Gautier, now one of the magnificent Courtalains.”

  “Courtalain? I thought that was Nicole’s maiden name.”

  “It is,” Gerard said, returning to his seat at the table. “It is one of the oldest, richest, most powerful families in Europe. You should have seen the old man, my wife’s father. I saw him once when I was a child. He was as big as a mountain and, it was said, as strong. I’ve heard he could make the king tremble from his wrath.”

  “The most common of people made the king tremble,” Nicole said bitterly. “Please tell me how you met my mother.”

  Gerard gave Janie a disdainful look. “As I was saying, my father and I went to see the guillotinings. Adele, your mother, walked out behind your father. She was so beautiful, so regal. She wore a dress of pure white, and with her black hair she looked like an angel. The whole crowd stopped talking when she walked past. Everyone could see that her husband was so proud of her. Their hands were tied behind them, and they could not touch, but their eyes met, and several people sniffed because the two handsome people obviously loved each other. My father nudged me and said that he could not stand to see such a magnificent creature put to death. I tried to stop him, but—” Gerard shrugged. “My father does what he wants.”

  “How did he save her?” Nicole urged. “How did he get her through the mob?”

  “I do not know. Every day, the crowd has a different flavor. Sometimes they cry as the heads roll; sometimes they laugh or cheer. It depends on the weather, I guess. That day, they were romantic, like my father. I watched as he pushed his way through them, then grabbed Adele’s bindings about her wrists and pulled her into the crowd.”

  “What about the guards?”

  “The crowd liked what my father was doing, and they protected him. They closed around him like water. When the guards tried to follow, the people tripped them and gave them false directions.” He stopped and smiled, finishing the last of a large glass of wine. “I was standing on top of a wall where I could see everything. It was such a sight! The people yelled every direction imaginable to the guards, yet all the while my father and Adele were walking quietly back to our shop.”

  “You saved her,” Nicole whispered, looking down at her hands in her lap. “How can I ever thank you?”

  “You can take care of us,” he said quickly. “We have come a long way.”

  “Anything,” Nicole answered. “What is mine is yours. You must be tired and want to rest.”

  “Wait a minute!” Janie said. “There’s more to this story. What happened to Nicole’s mother after your father rescued her? Why did you leave France? How did you find out Nicole was here?”

  “Who is this woman?” Gerard demanded. “I do not like servants who treat me like this. My wife is the Duchess de Levroux.”

  “The Revolution killed all titles,” Nicole said. “In America, everyone is equal, and Janie is my friend.”

  “A pity,” he said, his eyes scanning the simple room, yawning hugely before he stood. “I am quite tired. Is there a suitable bedroom in this place?”

  “I don’t know about suitable, but there’s places to sleep,” Janie said with hostility. “The attic has the twins and us three women. The mill has some spare beds.”

  “The twins?” Carefully noting the fine quality of the deep gray wool of her gown, he caught Nicole’s eyes. “Of what age?”

  “Six.”

  “They are not yours?”

  “I care for them.”

  He smiled. “Good. I believe I must make do with your mill. I would not like to be awakened by children.”

  As Nicole started toward her cape by the door, Janie stopped her. “You go to your mother and see that she’s all right. I’ll take care of him.”

  Smiling gratefully, she bid Gerard goodnight and went upstairs to where her mother lay peacefully sleeping. The storm had subsided outside, and gentle flakes of snow were silently falling. As Nicole held her mother’s warm hand in hers and watched her, she was flooded with memories—her mother lifting her and swinging her about just before she left for a court ball, her mother reading to her, pushing her in a swing. When Nicole was eight years old, Adele had had identical dresses made for them. The king said that someday the two of them would be twins, for Adele would never grow older.

  “Nicole,” Janie said when she returned. “You are not going to sit there all night. Your mother needs rest.”

  “I won’t disturb her.”

  “And you won’t help her either. If you don’t sleep tonight, you’ll be too tired tomorrow to be of any use to her.”

  Even though she knew Janie was right, Nicole sighed because she was afraid that if she closed her eyes her mother would disappear. Reluctantly, she stood and kissed her mother before turning away to get undressed.

  An hour before sunrise, everyone in the little house was awakened by hideous screams—screams of absolute terror. As the twins shot out of their beds and ran to Janie, Nicole ran to her mother’s side.

  “Mama, it’s me, Nicole. Nicole! Your daughter. Mama, be still, you’re safe.”

  The woman’s wild-eyed terror showed she obviously did not understand Nicole’s words. Even though Nicole spoke in French, the words had no effect; Adele was still afraid, still screaming, screaming as if her whole body were being torn apart.

  The twins put their hands over their ears and hid in the folds of Janie’s flannel nightgown.

  “Get Mr. Gautier,” Nicole shouted, holding her mother’s flailing hands as she fought her daughter.

  “I am here,” he said from the head of the stairs. “I thought she might wake like this. Adele!” he said sharply. Then, when she didn’t respond, he slapped her hard across the cheek. The screams stopped at once, and she blinked a few times, then collapsed, sobbing, into Gerard’s arms. He held her for a moment before quickly putting her down on the bed.

  “She’ll sleep for about three hours now,” he said, rising before turning back toward the stairs.

  “Mr. Gautier!” Nicole said. “Please, there must be something we can do. We can’t go off and just leave her.”

  He turned and smiled at Nicole. “There is nothing anyone can do. Your mother is totally insane.” Shrugging as if the matter meant very little to him, he went down the stairs.

  Pausing only long enough to grab her bedrobe from its peg, Nicole raced down the stairs after him. “You can’t just say something like that and leave,” she said. “My mother has been through some horrible experiences. Surely, after she rests and is once again sure of her surroundings, she will recover.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Janie entered the room, the twins close behind her. By silent agreement, the discussion was postponed until everyone had eaten and the twins were out of the house.

  As Janie cleared the dishes away, Nicole turned to Gerard. “Please tell me what happened to my mother after your father rescued her.”

  “She never recovered,” he said simply. “Everyone thought she was so brave when she was walking to her death, but the truth was she had long ago lost touch with reality. They had kept her in prison for a long time, and she’d seen one after another of her friends taken away to be executed. After a while, I guess her mind refused to accept that the same fate awaited her.”

  “But when she was safe,” Nicole said, “didn’t that reassure her?”

  Gerard looked with interest at his fingernails. “My father should not have rescued her. There was much danger in keeping one of the aristocracy in our house. The day he took her, the crowd was for hi
m, but later someone could turn us in to the citizens’ committee. It was very dangerous for all of us. My mother began to cry every night in fear. Adele’s screams woke the neighbors. They kept quiet about the woman we hid, but we wondered how long it would be before they asked for the reward offered for the duchess.”

  Sipping on the coffee Janie had given him, he studied Nicole for a few moments. She was especially lovely in the morning light, her skin dewy from her night’s sleep, her eyes luminous as she listened to the story, and he rather liked the way she looked at him, expectantly, with great interest.

  He continued, “When we heard that the duke had been killed, I went to the mill where he’d hidden. I wanted to know if there was anyone else left in the family. The miller’s wife was very angry because her husband had been murdered with the duke. It took me a long while to get her to tell me about Adele’s daughter and that you’d gone to England. At home, when my parents heard the story of the miller, they were very frightened. We knew we had to get Adele out of our house.”

  Nicole rose and went to the fire. “You had little choice. You could either turn her over to the committee or get her out of the country, under another name, of course.”

  Gerard smiled at her quick understanding. “And what better disguise than the truth? We were quietly married, then went abroad on our honeymoon. In England, I found Mr. Maleson, who told me you had worked for his daughter and both of you had gone to America.

  “Maleson was a strange man,” he said. “He told me the strangest tale, which I did not half understand. He said you were married to his daughter’s husband. How can that be? Is a man allowed to have two wives in this country?”

  Janie gave a derisive snort before Nicole could answer. “Clayton Armstrong makes his own laws in this part of the country.”

  “Armstrong? Yes, that is the name Maleson said. He is your husband, then? Why is he not here? Is he away on business?”

  “Business!” Janie said. “I wish he were. Clay lives across the river in a big, beautiful house with a fat, greedy snob, while his wife lives apart from him in a miller’s shack.”

  “Janie!” Nicole snapped. “You’ve said quite enough.”

  “The problem is, you’ve said too little. Anything Clay tells you, you just bow down and say, ‘Yes, Clay. Please, Clay. Whatever you want, Clay.’ ”

  “Janie! I will not listen to any more of this. We have a guest, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I haven’t forgotten anything!” she snapped as she turned toward the fire, her back to Nicole and Gerard. Every time she thought of Clay and the way he treated Nicole, she got angry. She didn’t know if she was angry at Clay for the way he behaved or at Nicole for so calmly accepting the treatment. Janie felt Clay didn’t deserve Nicole, that she should end the marriage and look at other men. But every time Janie said this, Nicole refused to listen, saying she trusted Clay as well as loved him.

  The thoughts of everyone stopped as the screams began again, echoing through the little house, the sheer horror of them raising chills on Janie and Nicole.

  Slowly, tiredly, Gerard rose. “It’s the new place that frightens her. Once she gets used to it, the screams will be less frequent.” He went toward the stairs.

  “Do you think she will recognize me?” Nicole asked.

  “Who can tell? For a while, she had lucid days, but now she is always frightened.” He shrugged before disappearing into the attic, and moments later the screams quieted.

  Cautiously, Nicole went into the attic. Gerard sat on the edge of the bed, one arm thrown carelessly across Adele’s shoulders as she clung to him, looking about her wildly. Her eyes opened wide in alarm when she saw Nicole, but she didn’t resume her screaming.

  “Mother,” Nicole said quietly, slowly. “I am Nicole, your daughter. Remember the time Father brought me a pet rabbit? Remember how it got out of its cage, and no one could find it? We looked through every wing of the chateau, but we couldn’t find it.”

  Adele’s eyes seemed to become calmer as she stared at Nicole.

  Taking her mother’s hand in her own, she continued. “Do you remember what you did, Mother? To play a joke on Father, you released three female rabbits in the chateau. Remember the nest of baby rabbits Father found with his hunting boots? You laughed so hard. But then Father laughed when more rabbits were found inside the chest with your wedding gown. And remember Grandfather? He said you were both children playing games.”

  “He organized a hunt,” Adele whispered, her voice hoarse from a throat raw with screaming.

  “Yes,” Nicole whispered, tears blurring her vision. “The king was visiting that week, and he and Grandfather and fifteen of their men dressed as if they were going to war and set out to find all the rabbits. Do you remember what happened then?”

  “We were soldiers,” Adele said.

  “Yes, you dressed me in my cousin’s clothes. Then you and some of the court ladies dressed in the soldiers’ costumes. Remember the queen’s old aunt? She looked so funny in men’s trousers.”

  “Yes,” Adele whispered, caught up in the story. “We had fish for supper.”

  “Yes,” Nicole smiled. “The ladies caught all the rabbits and let them loose on the grounds, and to punish the men for being such bad soldiers, you only allowed fish to be served for supper. Oh! Remember the salmon pâté?”

  Beginning to return the smile, Adele answered, “The chef shaped it into rabbits, hundreds of little rabbits.”

  With tears on her cheeks, Nicole waited.

  “Nicole!” Adele said sharply. “Whatever are you doing in that awful gown? A lady must never wear wool. It is too confining, too concealing. If a gentleman wants wool, he should be a shepherd. Now, go and find something in silk, something made by butterflies, not by those nasty old sheep.”

  “Yes, Mama,” said the obedient daughter calmly, kissing her mother’s cheek. “Are you hungry? Would you like a tray brought to you?”

  Adele leaned against the wall behind the mattress set on the floor, seeming to be unaware of Gerard, who dropped his arm from around her. “Send something light. And use the blue and white Limoges china for today. After I eat, I will rest, then send the chef so we can plan menus for next week. The queen will be here, and I want to plan something very special. Oh, yes, if those Italian actors arrive, tell them I will speak to them later. And the gardener! I must talk to him about the roses. It is so much to do, and I am so tired. Nicole, do you think you could help me today?”

  “Of course, Mama. You rest, and I will personally bring you something to eat. I will speak to the gardener myself.”

  “You calm her,” Gerard said, following Nicole down the stairs. “I haven’t seen her so relaxed in a long time.”

  Her mind reeling, Nicole went across the room calmly. Her mother still believed she lived in a time when she had fine servants who had nothing to do except help her dress. Nicole had been young enough to adjust to a harsh, cruel world where she wasn’t pampered, but she doubted if her mother could do so.

  Slowly, Nicole took a small skillet from the wall, then began breaking eggs for an omelet. Clay, she thought, wiping tears away with the back of her hand, how can I go away with you now? Her mother was here, and she needed her. Janie needed her, the twins needed her, Isaac was her responsibility, and now Gerard and Adele also needed her. What right did she have to feel sorry for herself? She should be grateful that she wasn’t alone in the world.

  A sharp sound from the attic signaled that Adele was impatient that her meal was taking so long. Suddenly, the front door burst open, the cold air rushing in.

  “Excuse me, Nicole,” Isaac said. “I didn’t know you had company, but there’s a man here with some new bolting cloth. He needs you to look at it.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

  “He said he’s in a hurry, since it looks like a big snow’s comin’. He wants to get to the Backes’s before it hits.”

  The tapping from the attic became more insistent. “Nico
le!” Adele called loudly. “Where is my maid? Where is my breakfast?”

  Quickly, Nicole loaded the food on a tray and hurried past Isaac up the stairs to her mother.

  Adele looked at the plain wicker tray, the brown-glazed earthenware, the hot omelet oozing cheese for only a second before she picked up a piece of toasted bread between her thumb and forefinger. “What is this? Bread? Peasants’ bread? I must have croissant!”

  Before Nicole could say a word, Adele had smashed the bread into the omelet.

  “The chef has insulted me! Send this back, and tell him that if he values his job he will not serve this swill to me again.” She picked up the pot of tea and poured it over the contents, the hot tea running through the wicker and onto the bedcovers.

  Looking at the mess her mother was creating, Nicole began to feel very tired. The covers would have to be washed—by hand. The breakfast would have to be recooked, and she’d have to persuade her mother to eat it, somehow without making her start screaming again. And Isaac needed her at the mill.

  She carried the dripping tray downstairs.

  “Nicole!” Janie nearly knocked Isaac down as she ran into the room. “The twins have disappeared. They told Luke they were going to run away because a crazy lady had come to live with them.”

  “Well, why didn’t Luke stop them?” Nicole slammed the tray on the table. Already, Adele was tapping on the floor.

  “He said he thought it was a joke, that no crazy lady lived here.”

  Nicole raised her hands in helplessness. “Isaac, get the other men, and let’s start searching. It’s too cold for them to be outside alone.” She turned to Gerard. “Would you prepare my mother something to eat?”

  He lifted one eyebrow at her. “I’m afraid I do not do women’s work.”