Counterfeit Lady (James River Trilogy 1)

Nicole looked up from the food she was pushing around on her plate. “Yes?”

She saw a tall, strong young man, but his eyes bothered her. They were little and close together, and now they glittered wildly.

“Your husband asked if you’d meet him at the sloop.”

Nicole rose instantly and walked around the table toward the man.

He chuckled. “I like an obedient woman. Clay sure knows how to train his.”

Nicole started to make a retort to his statement, but she stopped herself. She knew any answer she made would not give him the setdown he deserved. “I thought Mr. Armstrong was at the horse races,” she said, purposely using the formal title. She followed him across the lawn toward the river.

“Not many men let their women know where they are all the time,” he smirked, eying her up and down, his little eyes lingering on her breasts.

Nicole stopped where she was. “I think I’ll return to the house. Would you please tell my husband that I’ll meet him there?” She turned on her heel and started back toward the house.

She hadn’t

taken two steps before the man’s hand clamped hard on her upper arm.

“Listen to me, you little Frenchy,” he said, his lips drawn back in a snarl. “I know all about you. I been told about your lyin’, foreign ways. I know what you done to my cousin.”

Nicole stopped struggling and stared at him. “Cousin? Release me or I’ll scream.”

“You do, and that husband of yours won’t live till mornin’.”

“Clay! What have you done with him? Where is he? You hurt him, and I’ll…I’ll—”

“What?” he said avidly. “You sure are hot for him, ain’t you? I told Pa you were little better than a bitch in heat. I seen the way you flaunt yourself around him. No good woman’d do that.”

“What do you want?” Nicole said, her eyes large.

He smiled at her. “It ain’t what I want so much as what I’m gonna take. Now, are you listenin’?”

She nodded silently, her stomach rolling.

“You’re gonna walk with me to that wharf where my family’s boat’s tied. It ain’t fine like you’re used to, but it’s good enough for a woman like you. Then you’re gonna get on the boat real quiet and we’re gonna take a little trip.”

“To Clay?”

“Why, sure, honey. I told you he was gonna be all right if you just did what I said.”

Nicole nodded, and the man’s hand moved to her elbow, but the grip was just as hard as before. All she could think of was that Clay was in some kind of danger and she must help him.

He led her to the far end of the wharf where two other men waited in an old, patched sloop. One was an older man, skinny and dirty, with a Bible under his arm. “There she is!” he said loudly. “A Jezebel, a fallen, sinful woman.”

Nicole glared at the man, then started to speak, but the man who’d held her arm gave her a sharp push. She landed hard against the young boy.

“I told you to keep quiet,” growled the man who shoved her. “Take care of her, Isaac, and see she don’t make any noise.”

Nicole looked up at the boy, who put his hands on her shoulders. His touch was gentle. His features were softer, less harsh than the other two men’s. She lurched forward as the sloop moved, and the boy steadied her. She turned to look back at the Backes’s house. There, riding across the lawn, wearing a large white hat, was Clay. The horse he rode was crowned with a large wreath of flowers. He had obviously just won a race and was celebrating.

Nicole’s mind clicked instantly. The men didn’t have Clay, had never held him. She knew she was close enough to the house that a scream could be heard. She opened her mouth and filled her lungs, but she never made that scream because a large, hard fist slammed into her face. She slumped, unconscious, into Isaac’s arms.

“You had no reason to do that, Abe!” Isaac said as he supported Nicole’s limp body.

“Like hell I didn’t. If you hadn’t been staring at her with blind eyes, you’d have seen she was about to scream.”

“There are other ways she could have been stopped,” Isaac said. “You could have killed her!”