Counterfeit Lady Read online

  Chapter 16

  THE EARLY MORNING SUN BEAT DOWN ON THE LIGHTLY crusted snow and flashed back into Clay’s red eyes. The pain in his eyes went directly to his head where everything vile that had ever been created seemed to exist. His body seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, and each movement was an ordeal, even as he picked up another handful of snow and pressed it to his dry, swollen tongue.

  Worse than his raging headache and his churning stomach was the memory of this morning. He woke beside Bianca. At first, he’d been able to do nothing but stare because his body hurt too much to be able to think.

  Opening her eyes quickly, Bianca’d gasped when she saw him. She sat up, pulling the sheet to her neck. “You animal!” she said through clenched teeth. “You dirty, filthy animal!”

  As she told him that he’d dragged her to his bed and raped her, Clay couldn’t speak.

  When she’d finished, he laughed because he didn’t believe he could ever have gotten that drunk.

  But when Bianca’d stepped from the bed, there’d been blood on the sheets, blood on her nightgown. Before Clay could reply, Bianca had begun telling him that she was a lady, that she wouldn’t be treated like his whore, that if she had a child Clay would have to marry her.

  Clay hadn’t bothered to reply as he’d stepped from the bed and begun to dress quickly. He’d wanted to be as far away from Bianca as possible.

  Now, sitting in the clearing he had built with James and Beth, he kept remembering things. Maybe he’d been so drunk that he had made love to Bianca. This morning, he couldn’t remember anything after he’d left Nicole’s.

  Nicole was the one who worried him. What if Bianca did become pregnant? He pushed the thought out of his mind.

  “Clay?” Nicole called. “Are you here?”

  Smiling, he stood up to greet her as she came into the clearing.

  “You didn’t say what time. Oh, Clay! You look awful! Do your eyes feel as bad as they look?”

  “Worse,” he said hoarsely as he held out his arms to her.

  Nicole got within two feet of him, then stopped, her eyes blinking rapidly. “You smell as bad as you look.”

  He grimaced. “Didn’t I hear that love was blind?”

  “Even blind people can smell. Sit down and rest or build a fire in the cave. I brought some food with me. You didn’t eat much last night.”

  He groaned. “Don’t mention last night.”

  It was an hour later, when they’d eaten breakfast and the little cave was warm, that Nicole was ready to talk as she leaned against the stone wall of the cave, a blanket across her legs. She wasn’t yet ready to sit easily in Clay’s arms. “I didn’t sleep much last night,” she began. “All night, I kept thinking about what you’d told me about Bianca and her relatives. I want to believe you…but it’s difficult. All I can see is that I am your wife, yet she lives with you. It’s almost as if you want both of us.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “I try not to. But I know Beth had a strong hold over you. Maybe you don’t realize how close you are to your home. Last night you talked of just walking away and leaving this place. Yet at one time you were willing to kidnap a woman merely because she looked like someone who belonged here.”

  “You mean more to me than the plantation.”

  “Do I?” she asked. Her eyes were wide, dark, liquid. “I hope I do,” she whispered. “I hope I mean that much to you.”

  “But you doubt me,” he said flatly. Through his mind was going the vision of Bianca in his bed, Bianca’s virgin blood on the sheets. Was Nicole right not to trust him? Turning to the little niche that held the unicorn set in glass, he stood and held it in his hands. “We made vows on this,” he said. “I know we were children and had a lot to learn about life, but we never broke the vows.”

  “Sometimes innocent pledges are the most sincere,” she smiled.

  Clay held the glass in his hand. “I love you, Nicole, and I vow that I will love you until the day I die.”

  Nicole stood before him and put her hand over his. There was something that bothered her. Beth, James, and Clay had touched the little unicorn, then Beth had had it sealed in glass so no one else could ever touch it. It was a silly thing, really, but Nicole couldn’t help remembering Beth’s portrait, so very like Bianca. A swift thought ran across her mind. When would she be worthy to touch what Beth had touched?

  “Yes, Clay, I love you,” she whispered. “I always have, and I always will.”

  Carefully, he set the glass unicorn back into the wall, unaware of Nicole’s frown. He turned and pulled her close to him. “We can go west in the spring. There are always wagon trains being organized. We’ll leave at different times so no one will know we’ve gone together.”

  Clay went on, but Nicole wasn’t listening. Spring was months away. Spring was the time when the earth came alive again, when the crops were to be planted. Would Clay be able to walk away, to leave all the people who depended on him?

  “You’re shivering,” he said quietly. “Are you cold?”

  “I think I’m frightened,” she said honestly.

  “There’s no reason to be afraid. We’ve been through the worst of it now.”

  “Have we, Clay?”

  “Hush!” he commanded, and lowered his mouth to hers.

  It had been a long time since they’d been together, not since the party at the Backes’s. Whatever sensible reasons Nicole had for her fears, they fled when Clay kissed her. Her arms went around his neck and pulled his face closer to hers as his hand turned her head and slanted her mouth so that her lips parted. He was hungry for her, starved for the sweet nectar of her that would wash away the filth of the night with Bianca—a night confused with visions of Beth, a pink silk gown, and flecks of blood on a white sheet.

  “Clay!” Nicole gasped. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just too much to drink last night. Don’t go away,” he whispered as he pulled her tightly against him. “I need you so much. You are warm and alive, and I am so haunted by people.” He kissed her neck. “Make me forget.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”

  Clay pulled her down with him to the floor of the cave on top of a quilt. It was warm and sweet-smelling inside the little room. Nicole wanted him urgently, but Clay wanted to take his time. Slowly, he unbuttoned the front of her soft wool dress and put his hand inside, cupping her breast, his thumb teasing the soft crest.

  “How I’ve missed you!” he whispered, his mouth following his hand.

  Nicole arched beside him, her mind a whirl of flashing colors. As she fumbled with the buttons of his vest, she was unable to remember what she was doing, since his mouth and hands seemed to make her incapable of performing even a simple task.

  Smiling at her ineptitude, Clay pulled back. Her eyes were closed, her lashes a thick, lush curve against her cheek. As he caressed her cheek, ran his finger along her lips, his reverie changed from sweetness to passion. His hands quickly unfastened the buttons of his vest, his shirt, boots, and trousers following.

  Nicole lay on her back, her head propped on her arm, watching the firelight in the little cave play deliciously with the skin over his muscles, dancing from one indentation to a mound of strength. She ran her finger up his back.

  He turned, nude, all golden skin and bronze.

  “You’re beautiful,” she whispered, and he smiled at her before he kissed her again, his hand easily slipping her dress from her shoulders, running over her smooth, firm body, exploring it slowly, as if it weren’t very familiar to him. When he pulled her on top of him, she lifted her hips and guided him into their lovemaking.

  “Clay!” she gasped as he moved her hips, slowly at first, building rapidly until she clung to him, her hands clutching at him hungrily. She collapsed on top of him, weak, throbbing, satiated.

  “Let me get this straight, lady,” the burly young man said, spitting a thick stream of tobacco juice near her feet. “You want me to give you a baby? Not give you