Counterfeit Lady Read online

  “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.