Counterfeit Lady (James River Trilogy 1)

“No,” she smiled. “I thi

nk that for once I’m saying things I do mean. I’ve been in America for all these months, and I’ve spent all of that time waiting. I waited for you to tell me you loved me, then I waited for you to make up your mind between Bianca and me. I think how utterly stupid I’ve been, how simple-minded and starry-eyed. Like a child, I trusted you.”

She gave a snort of laughter. “Did you know that Abe tore my clothes off and tied me to a wall? I was so stupid that all I could think of was that he’d soil me for you. Can you imagine that? You were probably in bed with Bianca while stupid little me was worrying about keeping myself clean for you.”

“I’ve had about enough. You’ve said too much already.”

“My, my! The demanding Clayton Armstrong has had too much. Too much of which one of us? Curvy Bianca or skinny little Nicole?”

“Stop and listen to me. I told you it doesn’t make any difference to me. We’ll go away just as we planned.”

She glared at him, her upper lip curled into a snarl. “But it makes a difference to me! Do you think I want to spend my life with a man who could so easily abandon his own child? What if we did go west and had a child? If you saw some sweet young thing, maybe you’d run off with her and leave our child.”

Her words stung him, and he drew back. “How can you believe that?”

“How can I not? What have you ever done to make me believe any differently? I was a fool, and for some reason, maybe your broad shoulders or some such nonsense, I fell in love with you. You, being a man, used my schoolgirl lust to full advantage.”

“Do you really believe that?” he asked quietly.

“What else can I believe? I have done nothing but wait. Every minute I have waited—waited to start living. Well, no more!” She jammed her shoes on, stood up, and started toward the mouth of the little cave.

Clay quickly pulled his pants on and went after her. “You can’t leave like this,” he said, grabbing her arm. “I have to make you understand.”

“But I do understand. You’ve made your choice. I guess it was a test of who got pregnant first. The Courtalains have never been fertile. Too bad, perhaps I would have won the race. Would I have the big house then? The servants?” She paused. “The baby?”

“Nicole.”

She looked down at his hand on her arm. “Release me,” she said coldly.

“Not until you see reason.”

“You mean I’m to stay until you sweet-talk me back into your arms, don’t you? It’s over. It is dead, flat over between us.”

“You can’t mean that.”

Her voice was very quiet. “Two weeks ago the doctor from the ship I came to America on came to see me.”

Clay’s eyes widened.

“Yes, your witness that you so urgently wanted at one time. He said he’d help me to get an annulment.”

“No,” Clay breathed, “I don’t want—”

“It’s past time for what you want. You’ve had everything, or should I say everyone, you wanted. Now it’s my turn. I’m going to stop waiting and start living.”

“What are you talking about?”

“First an annulment, then I plan to enlarge my business. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t make use of this beautiful land of opportunity.”

A log fell in the little fireplace, and the glass that held the unicorn caught Nicole’s eye. She gave a dry, cold laugh. “I should have known what you were like when we made those childish vows. I wasn’t pure enough to touch the unicorn itself, was I? Only your dear, dead Beth was good enough for that.”

She pushed past him and went outside into the cool morning. Very calmly, she went to the rowboat and began to row herself back to the mill wharf. Her grandfather had told her never to look back. It wasn’t easy to keep her mind from crying out for Clay. She conjured a picture of Bianca, content and pregnant, her hands resting on the mound that was Clay’s child. She glanced at her own flat stomach and was thankful that she had no child.

By the time she reached the wharf, she was feeling better. She stood and looked up at the little house. It was going to be her permanent home for a while, and she thought of it as such. She would need more room, a parlor downstairs, and two more bedrooms upstairs. Immediately, she realized that she had no money. There was good, flat farmland adjoining the mill, and she vaguely remembered Janie mentioning that it was for sale. She had no money for land.

Then she remembered her clothes. They were certainly worth something. Why, the sable muff alone…How she’d like to throw everything into Clay’s face! She’d like to have the clothes delivered to him, dumped in his hallway. But that bit of show would cost her too much. At the Backes’s, several women had admired her clothes. Suddenly, she thought with regret of the mink-lined cape she’d left on the floor of the cave. But she could never go back there—never!

Plans were whirling in her head as she entered the single room of the little house. Janie was bent over the fire, her face red from the heat. Gerard lounged in a chair, insolently smashing a doughnut into a plate. The twins were in a corner, giggling behind a book.