Counterfeit Lady (James River Trilogy 1)

“Take your filthy mind elsewhere,” she said as she rose to refill her plate.

“Listen,” Abe said, following her. He was serious now. “I thought you was gonna marry Clay and then you could help us. Pa’s never cared about anything but preachin’. We’ve got some land not too far from Clay’s, but we don’t have any stock. We was hopin’ you could loan us your bull and, seein’ as we’re family, maybe give us a couple of your heifers.”

“And some chickens,” Ike said. “Ma’d like some more chickens. She’s your third cousin.”

Bianca whirled on them. “I am not related to you! How dare you presume on me and my prospects? How dare you speak to me of…animals!”

It took Abe a moment to reply. “There’s somethin’ wrong here, Miss High-and-Mighty. You ain’t gonna get none of Clay’s money, are you? You come all the way from England, and then he married your maid instead of you!” Abe began to laugh. “That’s the best story I’ve heard in years. Just wait till I tell that one around here.”

“It’s not true!” Bianca said, her eyes beginning to tear. “Clayton is going to marry me! I am going to own the Armstrong plantation. It will just take time, that’s all. He’s going to annul his marriage to my maid.”

Abe and Ike exchanged looks of suppressed laughter. “Annul, huh?” Abe smirked. “Yesterday, when she was sittin’ on his lap and feedin’ him, it didn’t look like he was thinkin’ of gettin’ rid of her.”

“And what about when he took her upstairs in the middle of the afternoon?” Ike said. He was at an age when he’d just discovered the opposite sex. He’d spent an hour under a tree imagining what Clay was doing with his pretty little wife. “When he come down, he had a grin from one ear to the other.”

The dirty little harlot, Bianca thought. The bitch thought she could take the plantation away from her by using her body to entice Clay. She looked from the plate of food to the path to the raceway. As soon as she finished her breakfast, she’d straighten Nicole out. She put her chin into the air and walked past the young men.

“You may find you’ll be wantin’ a friend sometime,” Abe called after her. “We don’t forget family as quick as you, but our price is gonna be a lot higher from now on. Come on, Ike, let’s go get Pa outta trouble.”

It was an hour later when Bianca finally made her way to the racetrack. She found the entire day strenuous and wearing on her nerves. She’d be glad when she would no longer have to fight to get what she wanted. Someday, the Armstrong plantation would be hers and she’d be able to rest after meals to allow her food to digest properly. Now, all because of Nicole, she had to attend these disgusting parties with these loud, lower-class people.

She saw Nicole standing beside Ellen Backes at the edge of the racetrack. The other women were loudly yelling at the horses, but Nicole was quiet, a look of worry on her face. She kept looking toward one end of the track, where Clay stood in the midst of several men.

Bianca tapped Nicole on the shoulder with the point of her parasol. “Come here,” she commanded when Nicole turned around.

With resignation, Nicole followed Bianca away from the others.

“What are you doing here?” Bianca demanded. “It’s not your place to be here, and you know it! If you won’t think of me or of Clay, think of yourself. I’ve heard how you’ve acted like the lowest street trash around him. What are people going to say when he rids himself of you and marries me? Who will want to marry you when they know you’re such used goods?”

Nicole stared at the taller woman. All she could think of was the horrible idea of being with any man except Clay.

“Shall we go together to se

e him?” Bianca asked smugly. “Do you remember how he ignored you when I first arrived from England?”

Nicole knew those few minutes were branded on her heart.

“You’ll learn someday that a man must respect a woman before he can love her. When you act like a street woman, you’ll be treated as one.”

“Nicole,” Ellen said from behind her, “are you all right? You look as if you’re not feeling well.”

“A little too much sun, perhaps.”

Ellen smiled. “It couldn’t be a little one, could it?”

Nicole’s hand flew to her stomach. How she wished Ellen could be right.

“Maybe it’s too much food,” Bianca said. “One should never overeat and then stand in the sun. I think I’ll walk back to the house. I think you should come with me, Nicole.”

“Yes, do,” Ellen urged.

The last thing Nicole wanted was more of Bianca’s company, but she saw Clay and the men walking toward them. She couldn’t bear to see Clay’s eyes melt at the sight of his beloved.

There were at least three great rooms in Ellen’s house, and now all of them were full of people. A sudden cold shower had sent them scurrying inside. Fires had been lit all over the house, and as the massive masonry units of the fireplaces began to heat, the house grew warm.

Clay sat in a leather wing chair, sipping a mug of small beer and watching the twins pop corn over the fire. A few minutes before, he’d gone upstairs to find Nicole asleep in their bed. He was worried about her because all morning people had told him about the woman who looked just like Beth.

“Won’t you sit down?” he heard a familiar voice say. He turned to see Wes standing rather close, facing him. A figure that was unmistakably Bianca’s had her back to him.