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  She felt Clay’s presence behind her rather than heard him. She whirled about, her hair flying. She stood as still as if she were made of stone.

  Silently, he opened his arms to her.

  She leaped into them, burying her face in his neck, her body pressed hard against his. She felt his face against her cheek, and she knew his eyes were also wet.

  Still holding her aloft, he turned her chin so she looked at him. He studied her face, devouring it. “You’re well?” he whispered.

  She nodded, her eyes on his. There was something wrong, deeply wrong. She sensed it.

  He clutched her close again. “I thought I was going to go crazy,” he said. “I couldn’t bear it again.”

  “You won’t have to,” she smiled, relaxing against his body, enjoying the warmth and strength of him. “My own naiveté got me into this. I won’t be so careless again.”

  “Next time you won’t be given a choice,” he said fiercely.

  “Clay, what do you mean by next time?” She tried to push away from him.

  He pushed her head to one side and began to kiss her. As soon as his lips touched hers, Nicole stopped thinking. It had been so very long since they’d been together.

  “Ahem!”

  Clay’s head came up to stare at Travis and Wesley.

  “I see you found her,” Wes said, grinning. “We hated to interrupt you, but this is a filthy place, and we’d like to leave.”

  Clay nodded, his face serious, his dark brows drawn down over his eyes.

  “What about him?” Travis said, his voice heavy with disgust. He pointed to an unconscious Isaac sprawled in the mud. The bandages around his leg were reddening with blood. There was a swelling lump on his jaw where he’d obviously been hit.

  “Isaac!” Nicole gasped and pushed out of Clay’s arms. She was at the boy’s side immediately. “How could you?” she glared up at Travis. “He saved my life. Didn’t you wonder how he got such a cut on his leg? If I were his prisoner, I could have run away from him.”

  Travis stared down at Nicole in amusement. “I don’t guess I stopped to think at all. I came around a corner of the shack, and he came at me with a knife.” His eyes twinkled. “I guess I should have stepped back and considered the situation.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nicole said. “I think my nerves are a bit raw.” She quickly started to untie the bloody bandages from Isaac’s leg. “Clay, give me your shirt. I need some more bandages.”

  When Nicole turned, her hand out to take the shirt, she looked up at three bare-chested men, each handing her a shirt. “Thank you,” she whispered, blinking back tears. It was going to be good to get home again.

  Chapter 15

  NICOLE PAUSED, HER NEEDLE IN HER HAND, AS SHE glanced toward the window for the hundredth time. There was no need to try to keep from crying because her tears had all been used. It had been nearly two months since she’d seen Clay. During the first month, she’d been bewildered, confused, stunned. Then, for weeks, she’d cried. Now she felt numb, as if part of her body had been removed and she was adjusting to it.

  After Clay had taken her from the island, he’d returned her to the mill. All during the long journey down the river to the Armstrong plantation, Clay had held her tightly, at times preventing her from breathing properly. But she didn’t care. His arms about her were what she wanted.

  When they had reached the wharf, Clay told Travis to tie the sloop first to the mill wharf. Nicole had been puzzled because she assumed she would go to the house with him. After clutching her to him almost in desperation, he had released her abruptly and jumped back into the boat, not looking back as Travis sailed the boat toward Clay’s wharf.

  For days, Nicole had watched for Clay. When he didn’t come, she’d made excuses for him. She knew Bianca still lived in his house with him. Perhaps it was taking longer for him to get her on a ship to England.

  When a month had passed and there was still no word, the tears started. Alternately, she had cursed him, forgiven him, understood him, cursed him again. Had he been lying to her when he said he loved her. Was Bianca’s power over him stronger than he had thought? She was too angry at him to think rationally.

  “Nicole,” Janie said quietly—there were a lot of whispers in the house now. “Why don’t you take the twins and go cut some evergreens? It looks like it’s going to snow. Wes will be here later, and we can decorate the house for Christmas.”

  Slowly, Nicole rose, but she didn’t feel much in the spirit for Christmas.

  “You will not tear out the east wall of my house,” Clay said in a deadly serious voice.

  Bianca sneered at him in disgust. “This house is too small! In England, it wouldn’t be better than a gatekeeper’s cottage.”

  “Then may I suggest you return to England?”

  “I won’t stand for your insults, do you hear me? Have you forgotten my cousins?”

  “Since there isn’t a moment when you don’t mention them, I don’t believe I could forget them. Now, I have work to do. Get out of here!” He glared at her over the ledger, watched as she put her nose in the air and stormed out of the office.

  When she was gone, Clay poured himself a drink. He’d had about all he could take of Bianca. She was probably the laziest human he’d ever encountered. She was constantly angry because the servants refused to obey her. At first, Clay had made halfhearted attempts to force them into obedience, but soon he gave up. Why should he make them as miserable as he was?

  He left the office and went to the stables to get his horse. Two months he’d spent with that bitch! Every day, he tried to think of the nobility of his gesture, how he was probably saving Nicole’s life by his martyrdom. But self-inflicted pain can only go so far. Now that he’d had more time to think, he saw a way out of Bianca’s plans. He and Nicole could leave Virginia. They could plan a time when they wouldn’t be missed for a few days and then go west. There was new land opening all the way to the Mississippi River. He’d like to see that river.

  Bianca was right about one thing. She’d be bankrupt in less than a year. He could arrange for Travis to buy back the plantation after Bianca ran it into the red. Travis and Wes could force Bianca off the land. Just so long as Nicole was safely out of the fat bitch’s reach.

  Clay sat on his horse just at the edge of the river. There was smoke coming from Nicole’s chimney. At first, he’d stayed away from her because the sight of her caused him too much pain. Quite often in the last months, he’d stood on a hill and watched the activity across the water. He had longed to go to her and talk to her, but he couldn’t until he had a plan. Now he did.

  Big, fat snowflakes were beginning to fall, and as Clay watched, he heard the sound of hammering. He could see one lone figure on top of the mill, hammering loose wooden shakes down more securely.

  With a smile, Clay dismounted from his horse, slapping the sleek black rump of the horse and watching as it made its way toward the stables. Then, he went to the rowboat and rowed himself across the river.

  He picked up a hammer from the toolbox at the base of the ladder leaning against the mill and climbed to the roof. Wesley looked up in surprise, grinned, and silently held out a handful of nails. Clay quickly arranged the heads in one direction and began hammering, feeding the nails with his left hand as quickly as a machine. The physical labor felt good after the quarrel with Bianca.

  It was nearly dark when the two men climbed down the ladder, both sweaty and tired. But it was a good tired, from labor shared with a friend.

  They went inside the mill, where it was warm and a tub of water waited for them. The snow was coming down more heavily.

  “We certainly haven’t seen you in a while,” Wes said, his voice heavy with criticism.

  Clay didn’t answer as he removed his shirt and began to wash.

  “Janie said Nicole cried herself to sleep every night for weeks,” Wes continued. “Maybe that doesn’t matter to you. After all, you do have that overblown copy of Beth to keep you warm.”