He stood over her, watching her, and when she started to rise he held out his hand for her. His palm was warm and callused as it swallowed Nicole’s. “I see your leg’s healed all right.”
Nicole looked at him, puzzled. The cut was high on her thigh, and she wondered how he knew of it. “Last night, did I say or do anything unusual? I believe I was very tired.”
“You don’t remember?”
“Only that you chased the dogs away and put me on your horse. From then until this morning is a blank.”
He studied her for a long while, his eyes staying on her mouth so long that Nicole could feel herself begin to blush. “You were charming,” he finally said. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.” Still holding her hand and seeming to have no intention of releasing it, he pressed it to his arm. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a beautiful woman at my table for dinner.”
Chapter 5
WHILE NICOLE WAS DRESSING FOR DINNER, MAGGIE had filled the big mahogany dining table with food. There was crab bisque, roast squab stuffed with rice, deviled crab in scarlet shells, poached sturgeon, cider, and French wine. The sheer abundance was amazing to Nicole, but Clay seemed to consider it ordinary. Nearly all the food had been grown or caught on the plantation.
They had barely sat down when the garden door banged open and some loud, excited voices shouted, “Uncle Clay! Uncle Clay!”
Clay threw his napkin onto the table and took two loping strides toward the dining room door.
Nicole watched in amazement. Clay’s face, usually so solemn, had changed instantly at the sound of the voices. He didn’t exactly smile; Nicole had never seen him smile, but neither had she seen such a look of joy. As she watched, he knelt on one knee and opened his arms to two children who fairly flew into them, wrapped their arms around Clay’s neck, and buried their faces against him.
Nicole, smiling at the scene, walked quietly behind them.
Standing and holding the children close to him, he questioned them. “Did you behave yourselves? Did you have a good time?”
“Oh, yes, Uncle Clay,” the little girl said as she looked adoringly at him. “Miss Ellen let me ride her very own horse. When am I going to get my own horse?”
“When your legs are long enough to reach the stirrups.” He turned to the boy. “And what about you, Alex? Did Miss Ellen let you ride her horse?”
Alex shrugged as if the horse didn’t matter. “Roger showed me how to shoot a bow and arrow.”
“Did he? Maybe we can make you one for your own. What about you, Mandy? Do you want a bow and arrow too?”
But Mandy wasn’t listening to her uncle. She was staring over his shoulder at Nicole as she leaned forward and said in a juicy, loud whisper that could have been heard in the dairy barn, “Who’s she?”
Clay turned with the children, and Nicole got her first good look at them. They were obviously twins and she guessed about seven years old, with identical dark blond curls and wide-set blue eyes.
“This is Miss Nicole,” Clay said as the children stared at her curiously.
“She’s pretty,” Mandy said, and Alex solemnly nodded agreement.
Smiling, Nicole held her skirt as she curtsied. “Thank you very much, M’sieur, Mademoiselle.”
Clay set the twins down, and Alex came to stand in front of Nicole. “I am Alexander Clayton Armstrong,” he said quietly, putting one hand behind him and one in front, and he bowed, blinking at her several times. “I would offer my hand, but it is…what is the word?”
“Presumptuous,” Clayton supplied.
“Yes,” Alex continued. “A gentleman should wait for a lady to offer her hand first.”
“I am honored,” Nicole said, and held out her hand to shake Alex’s.
Mandy edged beside her brother. “I am Amanda Elizabeth Armstrong,” she said, and curtsied.
“Well, I see you two made it. You could have at least waited until I was ready so you could show me the way.”
The four of them turned to look at the tall, dark-haired woman, in her forties, a stunning, large breasted woman with dancing black eyes.
“Clay, I hadn’t heard that you had company. I’m Ellen Backes,” she said, extending her hand. “My husband Horace and I and our three boys live next door to Clay, about five miles down the river. The twins were staying with us for a few days.”
“I am Nicole Courtalain—” She hesitated, and looked over her shoulder toward Clay.