Counterfeit Lady (James River Trilogy 1)

Early the next morning, Janie pulled her hair back into a tight little bun before she began to arrange Nicole’s hair into a fashionable chignon. Producing an iron, she pressed Nicole’s dress while Nicole laughed and said Mr. Armstrong had thought of everything.

Suddenly, the door burst open to admit one of Nicole’s kidnappers. “The captain wants to see you—now.”

Nicole’s first thought was that he had decided to return to England after all, and she gladly started to follow the sailor, with Janie right behind her.

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With one sharp shove, the sailor sent Janie back into the room. “He don’t want you. Just her.”

Janie started to protest, but Nicole stopped her. “I’ll be all right, I’m sure. Maybe he’s realized I was telling the truth.”

As soon as Nicole entered the captain’s cabin, she knew something was wrong. The captain, the first mate, and another man she’d never seen before were there. All of them seemed to be waiting for something.

“Maybe I should introduce everyone,” the captain said. “I want to be sure everything’s proper. This is the doc. He can sew you up or whatever you need. And this is Frank, my first mate. I guess you already met him.”

The sixth sense Nicole had acquired during the terror in France made her aware now of a feeling of danger. As always, her eyes reflected her emotions.

“Don’t back away,” Frank said. “We want to talk to you. And, besides, this is your weddin’ day. You wouldn’t want it said you were a reluctant bride, would you?”

Nicole was beginning to understand. “I am not Bianca Maleson. I know Mr. Armstrong instructed you to perform a proxy marriage, but I am not the woman he wants.”

Frank gave her a lascivious look. “I think you’re about exactly what any man would want.”

The doctor spoke. “Young lady, do you have any proof of your identity?”

Taking a step backward toward the door, she shook her head briefly. Her grandfather had destroyed the few documents he had managed to save in their wild flight from the terrorists, saying their lives could someday depend on people not finding out who they were. “My name is Nicole Courtalain. I am from France, a refugee, and I was staying with Miss Maleson. It is all a mistake.”

The captain spoke. “We were talking, and we decided that it doesn’t matter who you are. My contract says I’m to bring Mrs. Clayton Armstrong to America, and I plan to do just that.”

Nicole straightened her back. “I will not marry against my will!”

After a crisp nod from the captain, Frank was across the room in seconds, grabbing Nicole roughly to him, one arm around her waist, the other about her shoulders, pinning her arms to her side.

“That upside-down mouth of yours has been drivin’ me crazy ever since I seen it,” he murmured, crushing her to him as he brought his mouth down on hers.

Nicole was so bewildered that she could not react quickly. Never had anyone treated her like this. Even when she had lived with the miller and his family, the people around her had been aware of who she was and had treated her with great respect. This man smelled of fish and sweat, a filthy, overpowering stench. His arms cut her breath off; his mouth touched hers in a way that made her want to gag. She moved her head away, gasping, “No!”

“There’ll be more of that,” Frank said, and he bit her neck quite hard, running his dirty hand over her shoulder. With one violent jerk, he tore her dress, the chemise tearing away along with it, and her breast lay bare to his touch and to the sight of the other men. His big hand cupped her flesh, his thumb roughly bruising her nipple.

“No, please,” Nicole whispered, struggling against him, feeling sick.

“That’s enough,” the captain ordered.

Frank did not release her immediately. “I hope you don’t marry Armstrong,” he whispered, his breath hot and foul on her face, but he moved away from her, and Nicole clutched at her dress. With weak knees, she collapsed into a chair, running the back of her hand across her mouth, sure she’d never be clean again.

“Looks like she don’t like you much,” the captain laughed before turning serious and sitting down in a chair opposite Nicole. “You just got a taste of what’s gonna happen to you if you don’t go through with this marriage. If you ain’t Armstrong’s wife, then you’re a stowaway and mine to use however I want. First, I’ll throw that big woman Armstrong sent over the side.”

Nicole stared at him. “Janie? She’s done nothing to you. That would be murder.”

“What do I care? You think I could ever go near the Virginia coast again if I don’t do what Armstrong says? And the last thing I want is a witness to what I’m gonna let the men do to you.”

Seeming to grow smaller in the chair, Nicole caught her lower lip between her teeth, and her eyes almost swallowed her face.

“See, lady,” Frank said, “we’re givin’ you a choice, real kind of us.” His eyes never left her dress, which gapped at her breast. “Either you marry Armstrong or you come to my bed. That is, after the captain here gets through with you. Then, when I’m done with you—” he stopped and grinned. “I doubt if there’ll be much left after I’m done with you.” Leaning over, he put a dirty finger on her upper lip. “I never had me a woman with an upside-down mouth. Makes me think of all the things I could make that mouth do.”

Nicole turned her head away and felt her stomach turn over.

The captain watched her. “Which is it gonna be? Armstrong or me and Frank?”