Counterfeit Lady Read online

  Bianca gave her a withering look. “I am not asking for your comments. You are here to obey my wishes. Now, about breakfast. I expect it to be served in the dining room promptly at eleven. I want a pot of chocolate made with three parts cream and one part milk. I would also like some more of those tarts that were served last night. Dinner is to be served at twelve-thirty, and—”

  “You think you can go that long on just a few dozen fried pies?” Maggie asked sarcastically as she removed her apron and slammed it down on the table. “I’m gonna talk to Clay and find out just who you are,” she said as she shoved past Bianca.

  “I am the mistress of this plantation,” she said, her back straight. “I am your employer.”

  “I work for Clay and his wife, who, thank the Lord, is not you.”

  “You insolent woman! I’ll see Clay fires you for this!”

  “I may quit before he can,” Maggie said, and started for the fields.

  She found Clay inside a tobacco barn where the long leaves were being hung for drying. “I want to talk to you!” she demanded.

  In all the years Maggie had worked for his family, she’d never given any of them any trouble. She was quite outspoken, and more than once her ideas were used when it came to improvements made in the plantation, but her complaints were always fair.

  Clay made a futile attempt to wipe the black tobacco gum from his hands. “Has something upset you? The chimney blocked again?”

  “It’s more than the chimney this time. Who is that woman?”

  Clay stopped and stared at her.

  “She came into my kitchen this mornin’ and started demanding we all obey her. She wants her breakfast served in the dining room. She thinks she’s too good to come to the kitchen like anybody else.”

  Clay angrily threw the dirty cloth away. “You’ve lived in England. You know that the upper class doesn’t eat in the kitchen. For that matter, neither do most of the other plantation owners. It doesn’t seem like such an outrageous request. Maybe it would do us all some good to learn a few manners.”

  “Request!” Maggie sneered. “That woman wouldn’t know the meaning of the word.” She stopped suddenly, and her voice became quieter. “Clay, honey, I’ve known you since you were just a boy. What are you doin’ now? You’re married to one of the sweetest women ever created, but she runs off and lives across the river. Now you bring into your house some snotty girl who’s the spittin’ image of Beth.” She put her hand on his arm. “I know you loved them both, but you can’t bring them back.”

  Clay glared at her, his face becoming angrier by the moment. He turned away from her. “Mind your own business. And give Bianca whatever she wants.” He walked away, his head high, the shadow of his broad-brimmed hat hiding the pain in his eyes.

  In the late afternoon, Bianca slammed out of Arundel Hall. She’d spent hours on the plantation, talking to the workers, making suggestions, offering advice, yet nowhere had she been treated with respect. The estate manager, Anders, had laughed at her idea for a carriage. He said the roads in Virginia were so bad that half the people didn’t even own carriages, and certainly not ones with gold cherubs holding up the roof. He said that nearly all the traveling done was through the river. At least he didn’t laugh at Bianca’s list of fabrics she wanted. He merely stared at it with his eyes wide and said, “You want monogrammed sheets of pink silk?” She informed him that all the best people in England had them. She ignored his remark that she wasn’t in England.

  And everywhere she heard Nicole’s name. Miss Nicole had helped in the garden. Bianca sniffed. Why shouldn’t she? She had once been Bianca’s maid, not a lady with a baron for an ancestor, as Bianca had.

  After a while, though, Bianca grew tired of hearing Nicole’s name. She was also sick of hearing the little Frenchwoman referred to as the mistress of the plantation. She walked toward the wharf and the rowboat that would take her to the mill. She planned to give Nicole a piece of her mind.

  Roger rowed her across the river, and Bianca was angered at his insolence. He told her right away that he didn’t want to have anything more to do with her.

  Bianca had to walk up wooden steps beside the dock that jutted into the water, then up a steep path to the little house. The top half of the Dutch door was open, and she saw a large woman bending over a small fire in the enormous fireplace. She let herself in. “Where’s Nicole?” she asked loudly.

  Janie stood and looked at the blonde woman. Nicole had come back early from dinner with Clay the night before, and all Janie could get from her was that Bianca had arrived. She said no more, but her face told a great deal. Her eyes showed her sadness. Today, she’d gone about her work as usual, but Janie felt that much of the life was gone from her.

  “Won’t you come in?” Janie said. “You must be Bianca. I was just making some tea. Maybe you’d like to join us.”

  Bianca looked about the room with disgust. She saw nothing charming in the plaster walls, the beamed ceiling, or the spinning wheel by the fire. To her it was a hovel. She dusted a chair with her fingertips before she sat in it. “I would like for you to get Nicole. Tell her I am waiting and don’t have all day.”

  Janie set the teapot on the table. So this was the beautiful Bianca that Clay was so crazy about. She saw a woman with a colorless face and a body that was rapidly turning to fat. “Nicole has work to do,” Janie said. “She’ll be here when she can.”

  “I have had about enough insolence from Clay’s servants. I’m warning you that if—”

  “If what, missy? I’ll have you know that my duties lie with Nicole, not Clayton,” she half lied. “And furthermore—”

  “Janie!” Nicole said from the doorway. She walked across the room. “We have a guest, and we must be gracious. Would you care for some refreshment, Bianca? There are some warm crullers from breakfast.”

  When Bianca didn’t answer, Janie muttered something about her looking as if she could eat all the grain in the mill.

  Bianca sipped her tea and ate the soft, warm, sugary crullers with disdain, as if she were forcing herself. “So, this is where you live. It’s some comedown, isn’t it? Surely Clayton would have allowed you to stay on the plantation in some capacity. Maybe as assistant cook.”

  Nicole put her hand on Janie’s arm to keep her quiet. “It was my choice to leave Arundel Hall. I wanted to have a means of supporting myself. Since I knew about running a mill, Mr. Armstrong kindly deeded this place to me.”

  “Deeded!” Bianca said. “You mean he owned this, and he just gave it to you? After all you’d done to him, and to me?”

  “I’d like to know what she’s done to you,” Janie said. “It seems to me she’s the innocent party.”

  “Innocent!” Bianca sneered. “How did you find out Clayton was rich?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Why else would you have volunteered so readily to go with those kidnappers? You practically leaped on that man’s horse. And how did you get the captain to marry you to my fiancé? Did you use that skinny little body of yours to entice him? You lower classes always do things like that.”

  “No, Janie!” Nicole said sharply, then turned back to Bianca. “I think you’d better go now.”

  Bianca stood, smiling slightly. “I just wanted to warn you. Arundel Hall is mine. The Armstrong plantation is mine, and I don’t want any interference from you. You’ve taken quite enough of what belongs to me, and I don’t plan to give you any more. So stay away from what I own.”

  “What about Clay?” Nicole said quietly. “Do you own him, too?”

  Bianca curled her lip, then smiled. “So that’s how it is, is it? My, my, what a small world. Yes, he’s mine. If I could have the money without him, I would. But that’s not possible. I’ll tell you one thing, though, even if I could get rid of him, I’d see you never got him. You’ve caused me nothing but misery ever since I met you, and I’d die before I let you have what was mine.” She smiled more broadly. “Does it hurt, seeing the way he loo