Counterfeit Lady (James River Trilogy 1)

“That’s what I mean. He’s a violent man. He’s starting to lose control over himself. Someday soon, you’ll find a tiny cord stretched across the stairs, and when you start down them, you’ll fall.”

“No!” Bianca gasped, her hand to her throat.

“Of course, Armstrong will be quite some distance from the house when it happens. Later, all he has to do is remove the string. Then, he can play the bereaved husband, while you, my dear, will lie cold in a coffin.”

Bianca’s eyes were wild, frightened. “I can’t let that happen. I must prevent it.”

“Yes, you must be very careful. For my sake as well as your own.”

She sniffed. “For your sake?”

Gerard lifted her hand, held it between both of his. “You are going to think me a cad, a man too bold. No, I cannot tell you.”

“Please,” she begged. “You said we were friends. You can tell me what’s on your mind.”

He looked at the floor but saw it was too wet to kneel upon. His silk stockings would be ruined.

“I love you,” he said desperately. “How can I expect you to believe me? We’ve only met once before, but since then I’ve thought of little else. You haunt me always. My every thought has contained you. Please, don’t laugh at me.”

Bianca stared at him in astonishment. Never had a man declared undying love for her. Clay, in England, had asked her to marry him, but he’d been reserved, removed, as if he were thinking of something else while he proposed. The way Gerard looked at her made her breath quicken. He really did love her, she could see that. Several times since that first meeting, she had thought of him, but only as someone gentle and understanding. Now she looked at him in a new light. She could love this man. Yes, she could love someone with such fine manners.

“I couldn’t laugh at you,” she said.

He smiled. “Then, could I hope that you could ever return even a sm

all amount of my affection? I wouldn’t ask for much, just that I could see you once in a while.”

“Of course,” Bianca said, still bewildered by his declarations.

He stood and straightened his cravat. “I must go now. I want you to promise me you will be very careful. If anything were to happen to you, even if one hair on your lovely head were damaged, my heart would break.” He smiled at her, then saw something on the rail of the pavilion. “I nearly forgot. Would you accept this small token of my affection?” He handed her a five-pound box of French chocolates. The candy had been given to him by a farmer’s daughter who’d bought one of Nicole’s dresses.

Bianca nearly snatched the box from his hands. “I have not eaten,” she muttered. “He would not let me eat this morning.” She threw the ribbon on the floor, then pulled the lid off. She ate five pieces before Gerard could take a breath.

Bianca stopped, her mouth full, a drop of wet chocolate at the corner of her lips. “What will you think of me?”

“What could I think but to love you?” Gerard said when he’d recovered from his astonishment at the way she’d attacked the box of candy. “I don’t believe you realize that I love you as you are. I do not demand or want changes. You are a woman, a full, beautiful woman. I want no thin, shapeless girl. I love you the way you are.”

Bianca looked up at him with just the expression she’d had when she looked at the chocolates.

Gerard smiled. “Could we meet again? Perhaps three days from now, at noon. I will bring a picnic lunch.”

“Oh, yes,” she breathed. “I would love that.”

He bent from the waist, took her hand, and kissed it. He noticed that her eyes kept straying to the chocolates. After he left her alone, he stood for a moment in the shadow of a tree and watched her devour the full five pounds of candy in a matter of minutes. He smiled to himself and went back to the mill.

Three days later, Gerard sat across from Bianca in a secluded area of the Armstrong plantation. Between them were the remains of a feast. It had taken Janie all morning to prepare such a meal. Gerard frowned as he remembered the way Janie had refused at first to obey his commands and pack the picnic. Nicole’s interference had made her obey. He didn’t like a woman overstepping his rule.

“He’s trying to starve me,” Bianca said, her mouth full of caramel cream and almond cookies. “This morning for breakfast, I was only allowed two poached eggs and three biscuits. And he canceled my orders for some new dresses. I don’t know what he expects me to wear. These stupid Americans can’t even sew properly. The dresses constantly tear at the seams.”

Gerard watched with interest the massive quantity of food that Bianca was devouring so rapidly. He’d requested enough food for six people, yet now he wasn’t sure if it was enough. “Tell me,” he said quietly, “have you been careful lately? Have you watched for danger?”

His statement was enough to make Bianca put down her fork. She buried her face in her hands. “He hates me. Everywhere, I see signs of his hatred. Ever since the rains, he’s changed. He won’t let me eat. He’s hired women to clean the house, yet when I give them orders, they won’t listen to me. It’s almost as if I weren’t the mistress of the plantation.”

Gerard unwrapped a tiny chocolate-coated cheesecake. He touched her arm and held it out to her. Her eyes were brilliant, shining through her tears as she grabbed the little cake. “If you and I owned the plantation, everything would be different.”

“We? How could we own it?” She’d already eaten the cake and watched as Gerard unwrapped another one.

“If Armstrong were dead, you would inherit the place.”