Counterfeit Lady Read online

  “So! There you are! You’ve been out all night again.”

  “Did you miss me?” Clay asked sarcastically.

  She gave him a look that answered his question. “Where is everyone, and why isn’t breakfast on the table?”

  “I thought perhaps your concern was for me, but instead it’s for Maggie’s handiwork.”

  “I want an answer! Where is breakfast?”

  “Breakfast is now being served across the river at Nicole’s mill.”

  “Her! That slut! So that’s where you’ve been. I should have known you couldn’t live without your disgusting, primitive needs. What did she use this time to entice you? Did she tell you something about me?”

  Clay looked away in disgust and started up the stairs. “Your name was never brought up, thank God.”

  “At least she’s learned that,” Bianca said smugly. “She’s smart enough to know that I see through her, see what she’s really like. The rest of you are too blind to see what a greedy, conniving liar she is.”

  Clay turned on Bianca with a snarl. He leaped four steps at once to stand before her. He grabbed her by the neck of her gown and slammed her hard against the wall. “You piece of filth! You have no right even to speak her name. You’ve never done a fair or decent thing in your life for anyone, and you accuse her of being just like you. Last night, Nicole sacrificed several acres of her land to save mine. That’s where I’ve been all night, digging right beside her and other people who know what kindness and generosity are.”

  He pushed Bianca against the wall again. “You’ve used me all you’re going to. From now on, I’m going to run this place, not you.”

  Bianca had to work hard to breathe. His hands were cutting off her circulation. Her fat cheeks bulged with the pressure. “You can’t go to her. I’m your wife,” she gasped. “This place is mine.”

  “Wife!” he sneered. “For the things I’ve done, I think I almost deserve you.” He released her and stepped back. “Look at yourself! You don’t like yourself any more than anyone else likes you.” He turned away and went up the stairs to his room, where he fell on the bed and was asleep instantly.

  Bianca stood as still as a piece of marble after Clayton left. What did he mean, she didn’t like herself? She came from an old and important English family. How could she not be proud of herself?

  Her stomach rumbled, and she put her hand to it. Slowly, she left the house and went to the kitchen. She knew nothing about cooking, and the barrels of flour and other raw ingredients were confusing to her. She was hungry, very hungry, and she could find nothing to eat. Tears blurred her eyes as she left the kitchen and walked toward the garden.

  At the end of the garden was a little pavilion, privately hidden under two enormous old magnolia trees. She sat down heavily on a cushion; then, when she realized it was soaking wet, she started to rise. But what was the use? Her beautiful gown was already ruined. The tears ran down her face as she plucked at the feathers on her gown.

  “May I disturb you?” came a quiet, accented voice.

  Bianca’s head shot up. “Gerard!” she gasped as more tears came to her eyes.

  “You’ve been crying,” he said sympathetically. He started to sit beside her, then saw the cushions were wet. He tossed one over the railing, then used a handkerchief, not Adele’s silk one, to wipe most of the water from the wooden seat. He sat down. “Please tell me what is wrong. You look as if you could use a friend.”

  Bianca buried her face in her hands. “A friend! I have no friends! Everyone in this horrible country hates me. This morning, he said that I didn’t even like myself.”

  Gerard bent forward and touched Bianca’s hair. It wasn’t quite clean. “Don’t you realize that he’d say anything to hurt you? He only wants Nicole. He’ll do anything or say anything to get her. He wants to drive you away so he can have her.”

  Bianca looked at him, her little eyes red over her swollen cheeks. “He can’t have her. He’s married to me.”

  Gerard smiled as if she were a child. “How very innocent you are. You’re so sweet and vulnerable, so unsophisticated. Did he tell you where he was last night?”

  She waved her hand. “He said something about a flood and Nicole saving his land.”

  “Of course, she’d save his land. She plans for it to be hers someday. She made it seem that she was making a grand sacrifice, but actually she was creating more bottomland for the Armstrong plantation. And someday she plans for it to be hers again.”

  “But how? There were witnesses to my marriage to Clay. It can’t be annulled.”

  Gerard patted her hand. “You are a true lady. You can’t even imagine the treachery of those two. You played some tricks on them, but they were only tricks, nothing that really hurt anyone. Even the kidnapping wasn’t meant to hurt. But their plans aren’t so innocent—or fair.”

  “What…do you mean? Divorce?”

  Gerard was silent for a moment. “I only wish it were divorce. I think they’re planning…murder.”

  Bianca gaped at him for a moment. At first, she had no idea whose murder he meant. The idea of Nicole falling off a cliff appealed to her. If Nicole were gone, her life would be a lot better. But she was puzzled about why Clay would contemplate murdering Nicole.

  Very slowly did she become aware of what Gerard meant. “Me?” she whispered. “They want to kill me?”

  Gerard held her hand tightly. “I’m afraid I am as naive as you are. It took me a long time to understand what was going on. I couldn’t understand why Nicole would voluntarily dig away part of her land unless she had a motive that no one else saw. It finally came to me this morning. Those barbarians made so much noise in the mill that I couldn’t sleep. I realized that if Nicole once again became mistress of the plantation, then the new land created by the changing of the river’s course would be to her advantage.”

  “But…murder!” Bianca gasped. “Surely, you must be wrong.”

  “Has Armstrong ever tried to hurt you? Ever struck you?”

  “This morning. He pushed me against a wall. I could hardly breathe.”

  “That’s what I mean. He’s a violent man. He’s starting to lose control over himself. Someday soon, you’ll find a tiny cord stretched across the stairs, and when you start down them, you’ll fall.”

  “No!” Bianca gasped, her hand to her throat.

  “Of course, Armstrong will be quite some distance from the house when it happens. Later, all he has to do is remove the string. Then, he can play the bereaved husband, while you, my dear, will lie cold in a coffin.”

  Bianca’s eyes were wild, frightened. “I can’t let that happen. I must prevent it.”

  “Yes, you must be very careful. For my sake as well as your own.”

  She sniffed. “For your sake?”

  Gerard lifted her hand, held it between both of his. “You are going to think me a cad, a man too bold. No, I cannot tell you.”

  “Please,” she begged. “You said we were friends. You can tell me what’s on your mind.”

  He looked at the floor but saw it was too wet to kneel upon. His silk stockings would be ruined.

  “I love you,” he said desperately. “How can I expect you to believe me? We’ve only met once before, but since then I’ve thought of little else. You haunt me always. My every thought has contained you. Please, don’t laugh at me.”

  Bianca stared at him in astonishment. Never had a man declared undying love for her. Clay, in England, had asked her to marry him, but he’d been reserved, removed, as if he were thinking of something else while he proposed. The way Gerard looked at her made her breath quicken. He really did love her, she could see that. Several times since that first meeting, she had thought of him, but only as someone gentle and understanding. Now she looked at him in a new light. She could love this man. Yes, she could love someone with such fine manners.

  “I couldn’t laugh at you,” she said.

  He smiled. “Then, could I hope that you could ever return even a sm