Counterfeit Lady Page 13

  Bianca gave her a withering look. “I am not asking for your comments. You are here to obey my wishes. Now, about breakfast. I expect it to be served in the dining room promptly at eleven. I want a pot of chocolate made with three parts cream and one part milk. I would also like some more of those tarts that were served last night. Dinner is to be served at twelve-thirty, and—”

  “You think you can go that long on just a few dozen fried pies?” Maggie asked sarcastically as she removed her apron and slammed it down on the table. “I’m gonna talk to Clay and find out just who you are,” she said as she shoved past Bianca.

  “I am the mistress of this plantation,” she said, her back straight. “I am your employer.”

  “I work for Clay and his wife, who, thank the Lord, is not you.”

  “You insolent woman! I’ll see Clay fires you for this!”

  “I may quit before he can,” Maggie said, and started for the fields.

  She found Clay inside a tobacco barn where the long leaves were being hung for drying. “I want to talk to you!” she demanded.

  In all the years Maggie had worked for his family, she’d never given any of them any trouble. She was quite outspoken, and more than once her ideas were used when it came to improvements made in the plantation, but her complaints were always fair.

  Clay made a futile attempt to wipe the black tobacco gum from his hands. “Has something upset you? The chimney blocked again?”

  “It’s more than the chimney this time. Who is that woman?”

  Clay stopped and stared at her.

  “She came into my kitchen this mornin’ and started demanding we all obey her. She wants her breakfast served in the dining room. She thinks she’s too good to come to the kitchen like anybody else.”

  Clay angrily threw the dirty cloth away. “You’ve lived in England. You know that the upper class doesn’t eat in the kitchen. For that matter, neither do most of the other plantation owners. It doesn’t seem like such an outrageous request. Maybe it would do us all some good to learn a few manners.”

  “Request!” Maggie sneered. “That woman wouldn’t know the meaning of the word.” She stopped suddenly, and her voice became quieter. “Clay, honey, I’ve known you since you were just a boy. What are you doin’ now? You’re married to one of the sweetest women ever created, but she runs off and lives across the river. Now you bring into your house some snotty girl who’s the spittin’ image of Beth.” She put her hand on his arm. “I know you loved them both, but you can’t bring them back.”

  Clay glared at her, his face becoming angrier by the moment. He turned away from her. “Mind your own business. And give Bianca whatever she wants.” He walked away, his head high, the shadow of his broad-brimmed hat hiding the pain in his eyes.

  In the late afternoon, Bianca slammed out of Arundel Hall. She’d spent hours on the plantation, talking to the workers, making suggestions, offering advice, yet nowhere had she been treated with respect. The estate manager, Anders, had laughed at her idea for a carriage. He said the roads in Virginia were so bad that half the people didn’t even own carriages, and certainly not ones with gold cherubs holding up the roof. He said that nearly all the traveling done was through the river. At least he didn’t laugh at Bianca’s list of fabrics she wanted. He merely stared at it with his eyes wide and said, “You want monogrammed sheets of pink silk?” She informed him that all the best people in England had them. She ignored his remark that she wasn’t in England.

  And everywhere she heard Nicole’s name. Miss Nicole had helped in the garden. Bianca sniffed. Why shouldn’t she? She had once been Bianca’s maid, not a lady with a baron for an ancestor, as Bianca had.

  After a while, though, Bianca grew tired of hearing Nicole’s name. She was also sick of hearing the little Frenchwoman referred to as the mistress of the plantation. She walked toward the wharf and the rowboat that would take her to the mill. She planned to give Nicole a piece of her mind.

  Roger rowed her across the river, and Bianca was angered at his insolence. He told her right away that he didn’t want to have anything more to do with her.

  Bianca had to walk up wooden steps beside the dock that jutted into the water, then up a steep path to the little house. The top half of the Dutch door was open, and she saw a large woman bending over a small fire in the enormous fireplace. She let herself in. “Where’s Nicole?” she asked loudly.

  Janie stood and looked at the blonde woman. Nicole had come back early from dinner with Clay the night before, and all Janie could get from her was that Bianca had arrived. She said no more, but her face told a great deal. Her eyes showed her sadness. Today, she’d gone about her work as usual, but Janie felt that much of the life was gone from her.

  “Won’t you come in?” Janie said. “You must be Bianca. I was just making some tea. Maybe you’d like to join us.”

  Bianca looked about the room with disgust. She saw nothing charming in the plaster walls, the beamed ceiling, or the spinning wheel by the fire. To her it was a hovel. She dusted a chair with her fingertips before she sat in it. “I would like for you to get Nicole. Tell her I am waiting and don’t have all day.”

  Janie set the teapot on the table. So this was the beautiful Bianca that Clay was so crazy about. She saw a woman with a colorless face and a body that was rapidly turning to fat. “Nicole has work to do,” Janie said. “She’ll be here when she can.”

  “I have had about enough insolence from Clay’s servants. I’m warning you that if—”

  “If what, missy? I’ll have you know that my duties lie with Nicole, not Clayton,” she half lied. “And furthermore—”

  “Janie!” Nicole said from the doorway. She walked across the room. “We have a guest, and we must be gracious. Would you care for some refreshment, Bianca? There are some warm crullers from breakfast.”

  When Bianca didn’t answer, Janie muttered something about her looking as if she could eat all the grain in the mill.

  Bianca sipped her tea and ate the soft, warm, sugary crullers with disdain, as if she were forcing herself. “So, this is where you live. It’s some comedown, isn’t it? Surely Clayton would have allowed you to stay on the plantation in some capacity. Maybe as assistant cook.”

  Nicole put her hand on Janie’s arm to keep her quiet. “It was my choice to leave Arundel Hall. I wanted to have a means of supporting myself. Since I knew about running a mill, Mr. Armstrong kindly deeded this place to me.”

  “Deeded!” Bianca said. “You mean he owned this, and he just gave it to you? After all you’d done to him, and to me?”

  “I’d like to know what she’s done to you,” Janie said. “It seems to me she’s the innocent party.”

  “Innocent!” Bianca sneered. “How did you find out Clayton was rich?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Why else would you have volunteered so readily to go with those kidnappers? You practically leaped on that man’s horse. And how did you get the captain to marry you to my fiancé? Did you use that skinny little body of yours to entice him? You lower classes always do things like that.”

  “No, Janie!” Nicole said sharply, then turned back to Bianca. “I think you’d better go now.”

  Bianca stood, smiling slightly. “I just wanted to warn you. Arundel Hall is mine. The Armstrong plantation is mine, and I don’t want any interference from you. You’ve taken quite enough of what belongs to me, and I don’t plan to give you any more. So stay away from what I own.”

  “What about Clay?” Nicole said quietly. “Do you own him, too?”

  Bianca curled her lip, then smiled. “So that’s how it is, is it? My, my, what a small world. Yes, he’s mine. If I could have the money without him, I would. But that’s not possible. I’ll tell you one thing, though, even if I could get rid of him, I’d see you never got him. You’ve caused me nothing but misery ever since I met you, and I’d die before I let you have what was mine.” She smiled more broadly. “Does it hurt, seeing the way he loo
ks at me? I have him right there.” She held out her plump, white hand, then slowly curled it into a tight little fist. Still smiling, she turned and left the room, leaving the door open behind her.

  Janie sat down at the table beside Nicole. She felt like she’d just been run between the grinding stones. “So that’s the angel Clay sent me to England to fetch?” Janie shook her head slowly. “I wonder if any man’s ever been born who had any sense about women. What in the world does he see in her?”

  Nicole was staring at the open doorway. She wouldn’t mind losing to a woman who loved Clay, but it hurt to see him with Bianca. Sooner or later, he’d find out what she was like, and when he did he’d be miserable.

  The twins burst into the room. “Who was that fat lady?” Alex asked.

  “Alex!” Nicole said. Then her reprimand lost its bite as Janie started laughing. Nicole tried to keep from smiling. “Alex, you shouldn’t call people fat.”

  “Even if they are?”

  Janie’s laughter was too loud for Nicole to speak. She decided not to go into Bianca’s weight. “She’s a guest of your Uncle Clay,” she said at last.

  The twins exchanged looks of silent communication, then turned quickly and sped down the path.

  “Where do you think they’re going?” Janie asked.

  “To introduce themselves, probably. Ever since Ellen Backes taught them how, they’ve not lost an opportunity to bow and curtsy.” Janie and Nicole looked at each other, then silently left the house. They didn’t trust Bianca with the twins.

  The two women got there just in time to see Alex make his bow before Bianca. They stood on the edge of the wharf. Bianca seemed to be pleased by the twins’ formal manners, even if their clothes and faces were somewhat dirty. Mandy stood quietly by her brother, smiling proudly.

  Suddenly, Alex lost his balance, and to keep from stumbling and perhaps falling off the wharf, he grabbed the nearest thing to steady himself, which was Bianca’s dress. The fabric tore away at the seam of the high waist, leaving a long, gaping hole.

  “You nasty little beast!” Bianca said, and before anyone could speak, she slapped Alex hard across the face.

  The little boy balanced on the edge of the wharf, his arms twirling for a moment before he fell backward into the river. Nicole was into the water past her ankles before Alex came up the first time. He grinned at her look of fright and swam ashore. “Uncle Clay says you shouldn’t swim with your shoes on,” he said as he sat on the bank and began to unbuckle his. He nodded at Nicole, still standing in the water, her shoes soaked.

  Nicole smiled at him and stepped back onto the dry land. Her heart was still pounding from the fright of seeing the boy fall.

  While Janie’s and Nicole’s attention was on Alex, Mandy looked at the big woman beside her. She didn’t like anyone who’d strike her brother. She took a step closer to Bianca and dug her little heels into the dock. She gave one good, hard push at Bianca and then stepped back quickly.

  Everyone turned at Bianca’s little squeal of fear. She fell almost as if she were in slow motion. Her lack of strength and muscle tone made her especially helpless. Her fat little hands clawed at the air.

  When she hit the water, the splash threatened to flood the wharf. Mandy was drenched. She turned, the front of her dress soaked, water dripping off her eyelashes and nose, and smiled in triumph at her brother. Janie started laughing again.

  “Stop it, all of you,” Nicole commanded, but her voice was shaky with suppressed laughter. Bianca had looked so funny when she fell. Nicole walked to the other side of the wharf, and the others followed her. Bianca rose slowly out of the water. It was barely knee deep, but she’d gone completely under when she fell. Her blonde hair was straggling in thin, straight bits about her face. The curls she’d so carefully created with a hot iron were gone. The water plastered the thin cotton of her dress to her, and she may as well have been nude. She’d gained more weight than Nicole had realized. Her thighs and hips were so fat they were lumpy. She had a roll of fat around her middle where her waist should have been.

  “She is fat!” Alex said, his eyes wide in wonder.

  “Don’t just stand there, get me out of here!” Bianca demanded. “My feet are caught in mud.”

  “I think I’d better get the men,” Janie said. “The two of us aren’t strong enough to pull in a whale.”

  “Hush! All of you!” Nicole said, then went to the rowboat to pick up an oar. “She doesn’t like men. Here, Bianca, grab this, and Janie and I will pull you out.”

  Janie dutifully grabbed one end of the oar. “If you ask me, that woman only likes herself, and she doesn’t like her that much.”

  It took some doing on the women’s part to get Bianca out of the mud. She wasn’t very strong, in spite of her size. When she was standing on the shore, Roger appeared out of the trees, where he’d obviously been for some time. His eyes were twinkling in delight as he helped Bianca into the rowboat and rowed her back across the river.

  Chapter 9

  CLAY WAS BENT OVER THE OLD TREE STUMP, FASTENING chains around its long, deep roots when the lone rider approached. In another hour, the sun would be down. He’d been working since long before sunup. He was tired and his body ached thoroughly, not just from today’s work but from several days of work without stop.

  When the chains were finally secured around the log, he hooked them onto the big percheron’s collar. The massive feet of the horse dug into the ground, mud and bits of grass flying as it obeyed Clay’s commands to pull. Slowly, the log began to come out of the ground.

  Clay took a long axe and hacked at the thin tendons that held the large stump in the ground. When it was finally free, Clay led the horse and the dragging stump to the edge of the newly cleared field. When he had the chains detached and was rolling them on the ground, the man spoke.

  “Good work! I haven’t enjoyed a show so much since I saw some dancers in Philadelphia. Of course, they had better legs than you.”

  Clay looked up sharply, then slowly he began to grin. “Wesley! I haven’t seen you in ages. Did you and Travis get your tobacco in already?”

  Wes Stanford stood up and stretched. He wasn’t a tall man like Clay, but he was powerfully built, with a deep, thick chest and heavily muscled thighs. He had thick brown hair and very dark eyes, which laughed often. He shrugged. “You know Travis. He knows he can run the world by himself. I just thought I’d let him manage a part of it alone.”

  “You two quarreling again?”

  Wesley grinned. “Travis would tell the devil how to run Hell.”

  “And no doubt the devil would obey him.”

  The two men looked at each other and laughed. Their friendship had grown over the many years they’d been neighbors. They’d been drawn to each other because they were both younger brothers. Clay had always stood in the shadow of James, while Wesley had to deal with Travis. Many times, Clay had been thankful for James whenever he was around Travis. He didn’t envy Wes for having such a brother.

  “What are you doing out here clearing your own fields?” Wes asked. “Did all your men leave you?”

  “Worse,” he said, removed his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his face. “I’ve got problems with women.”

  “Ah,” Wes smiled. “Now, that’s a problem I could deal with. Anything you’d like to talk about? I brought a jug, and I’ve got all night.”

  Clay sat down on the ground, his back to a tree, and accepted the jug of corn liquor from Wes, who sat down beside him. “When I think of what’s happened to my life in the last few months, I don’t know how I’ve lived through it.”

  “Remember that summer that was so dry, and three of your tobacco barns burned and half your cows died?” Wes asked. “How does it compare to that?”

  “That was an easy time. I got more rest then.”

  “Lord!” Wes said seriously. “Drink some more of this, and tell me what’s been going on.”

  Wes loved Clay’s idea about kidnapping Bian
ca and then having her married to him by proxy. “So what happened when she got here?”

  “She didn’t. Or at least she didn’t come in with Janie on the packet.”

  “I thought you said you paid the captain for performing the service.”

  “I did. He married me to someone, all right, but not to Bianca. The kidnappers took the wrong woman.”

  Wes stared at his friend with wide eyes and an open mouth. It was a while before he could speak. “You mean you went to meet your bride only to find out you were married to some woman you’d never met before?” He took a deep drink when he saw Clay’s glum nod. “What’s she look like? A hag, right?”

  Clay leaned his head against the tree and stared up at the sky. “She’s a little thing, French. She has black hair and big brown eyes and the most desirable mouth ever created. She’s got a figure that makes my hands sweat every time she walks across a room.”

  “Sounds to me like you should be rejoicing, unless she’s stupid or mean.”

  “Neither. She’s educated, intelligent, a hard worker, the twins love her, and everybody on the plantation adores her.”

  Wes took another drink. “She doesn’t seem like much of a problem to me. I don’t believe she’s real. She must have some flaw.”

  “There’s more to this,” Clay said and reached for the jug. “As soon as I learned about the mistaken marriage, I wrote Bianca in England and explained everything.”

  “Bianca’s the woman you originally were to marry? How did she take it? I don’t guess she liked your marrying someone else.”

  “I didn’t hear from her for a long time. Meanwhile, I spent a lot of time with Nicole, who was legally my wife.”

  “But not your wife in any other way?”

  “No. We agreed to get an annulment, but there had to be a witness that the marriage had been forced, and the only one who’d testify was already on his way back to England.”

  “So you forced yourself to keep company with a beautiful, charming woman. Poor man. Your life has been hell.”