Counterfeit Lady Read online

  “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.”