Counterfeit Lady Read online

  She stared at him a moment, then smiled. “Wesley, you are very sweet. You don’t want to marry me.” She turned away from him.

  “Yes, I do! You’d make a perfect wife. You could run the whole plantation, and everyone likes you.”

  “Stop!” she laughed. “You’re making me feel very old.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I thank you for your offer, but I have no desire to leave one marriage and go directly into another one.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “And if you dare look relieved, I will never speak to you again.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed it, rubbing her fingers between his. “I may cry, but I certainly won’t look relieved.”

  She laughed and pulled her hand away. “I need friends more than a lover right now. If you really want to help me, maybe you could get Mr. Rogers to give me a good price on the land.”

  Wesley watched her for a moment. His marriage proposal had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, but now he thought how pleasant it would be to be married to someone like Nicole. She would have surprised him if she’d accepted him, but he wished she had.

  He grinned at her. “Old man Rogers is going to be so pleased to sell that land, he’s going to practically give it to you.”

  “No violence,” Nicole laughed.

  “Maybe a broken toe or two, but that’s all.”

  “Well…if it’s just toes.”

  They laughed together and went down the road toward Mr. Rogers’s house.

  They did get a good price for the land. Nicole had very little cash from the clothes Gerard had sold, but Mr. Rogers allowed her to pay off the land slowly over the years. She also agreed to grind the grain from his farm for free for three years.

  “He didn’t exactly give us the land,” Wes said when they left. “His grain ground free for three years!”

  Nicole’s eyes sparkled. “But wait until he gets his bill for the fourth year!”

  After they left Mr. Rogers’s house, they went to the printer’s office, where Nicole had handbills printed advertising her mill’s rates for grinding.

  “Nicole!” Wes said as he heard her tell the printer the new rates. “How do you expect to make any money? That’s a third less than Horace charges.”

  She smiled. “Competition and quantity. Would you bring your grain to me or to Horace?”

  The printer laughed. “I think she’s got you there, Wes. I’m going to tell my brother-in-law about this, and you can be sure he’ll come to you.”

  Wesley looked at Nicole with new respect. “I had no idea there was a brain behind that pretty face.”

  She was serious. “I don’t think there has been. Or, at least, it’s been clouded with childish ideas of love and romance.”

  Wesley frowned as she left the printer’s. He had the feeling she was hurt more than she’d admit. Damn Clay! he thought. He had no right to use Nicole the way he did.

  At home again, Gerard was the one who gave Nicole trouble. The little man backed away from her in disgust.

  “It was disgusting enough to have to sell ladies’ dresses.” He stopped and smoothed his hair. It was cut in the Brutus style, fashionably shaggy and unkempt. It lay close to his head, limp, without body or curl. “Of course, the women were pleased to meet me. They were not like the people in this house. They liked the stories of my family, the magnificent Courtalains.”

  “Since when has Nicole’s family become yours?” Janie snapped.

  “See!” Gerard shouted. “I am unappreciated.”

  “Both of you, stop it,” Nicole said. “I’m tired of hearing you bicker. Gerard, you have proved yourself a perfect salesman. The women love your accent and your charming manners.”

  He preened under her compliments.

  “If you want, you may give the handbills to the farmers’ wives. In fact, that may be a good idea.”

  “Handbills are not silks,” he muttered.

  “But food is food,” Janie said. “And if you want any, you’ll work like the rest of us.”

  Gerard took a step toward Janie, his upper lip curled into a sneer, but Nicole put her hand on his forearm and stopped him. He looked from her hand to her face, then back again. He covered her hand with his. “For you, I would do anything.”

  Nicole, as politely as possible, moved away from him. “Isaac will row you up and down the river to the houses.”

  Gerard smiled at her as if they were lovers, then quietly left the house.

  “I don’t trust him,” Janie said.

  Nicole waved her hand. “He’s harmless. He just wants us to treat him royally is all. He’ll soon learn.”

  “You’re too generous. Just take my advice and stay well away from him.”

  Spring came quickly to the Virginia countryside, and with it came the ripening of the early crops. It wasn’t long before the enormous grindstones in the mill were again turning after the long winter break. Nicole’s handbills worked, and farmers came from miles around to bring their grain to the mill.

  Nicole never allowed herself a minute to relax. She hired another man to help in the fields that were seeded with barley and wheat. Gerard reluctantly helped at the mill, but he made it clear that he considered the Americans beneath him. Nicole kept reminding him that her grandfather the duke had worked in a grain mill for two years.

  No one seemed to consider the idea of the twins returning to Clay, and Nicole knew it was a sign of his trust in her. Once a week, Isaac rowed the children across the river to visit their uncle.

  “He looks bad,” Isaac said once after he returned.

  Nicole didn’t bother to ask whom he meant. In spite of all her work, Clay was never far from her mind.

  “He drinks too much. I never knew him to drink so much before”

  Nicole turned away. She should feel glad he was so miserable, since he certainly deserved it. But somehow she wasn’t glad. She left Isaac and went to the vegetable garden. Maybe a few hours of hoeing would keep her mind off Clay.

  An hour later, Nicole leaned against a tree and wiped her forearm across her face. She was hot and sweaty from the vigorous hoeing.

  “Here, I brought you something,” Gerard said as he handed her a glass of cool lemonade.

  She nodded her gratitude and gulped all of the liquid.

  Gerard brushed a piece of grass from the sleeve of her cotton dress. “You shouldn’t be out here in the sun. It will ruin that beautiful complexion of yours.” He ran his hand down her arm.

  Nicole was too tired to move away from him. They stood in a deeply shaded place, out of sight of the house and mill.

  “I’m glad we have this time alone,” he said, moving closer to her. “It’s strange that we live in the same house, yet we rarely have a chance to be alone, to have a private conversation.”

  Nicole didn’t want to offend him, but neither did she want to encourage him. She stepped away. “You could talk to me at any time, I hope you know that.”

  He moved near her again, his hand running up and down her arm, caressing it. “You’re the only one here who understands me.” He spoke in French, moving his face closer to hers. “We’re from the same country, the same people. No one else knows what France is like now. We’re drawn closer together by our common bond.”

  “I consider myself an American now.” She answered him in English.

  “How can you? You are French as I am French. We are of the great Courtalains. Think how we could continue the line.”

  Nicole’s back straightened as she glared at him. “How dare you!” she gasped. “Do you forget my mother? You are married to her, yet you proposition me like some scullery maid.”

  “How can I forget her when her screams nearly drive me mad? Do you think there is a minute that I’m not aware that I am bound to her? What can she give me? Can she give me children? I am a man, a healthy man, and I deserve children.” He grabbed her, pulled her close to him. “You are the only one. In all of this heathen country, you are the only one worthy to be the mother of my children. Yo