Counterfeit Lady (James River Trilogy 1)

He put a finger to her lips and stopped her. “I am pleased that you still care enough to warn me, but Bianca is not a murderess. She has neither the brains nor the courage.” His eyes went to her mouth, where he ran his fingertip along her upper lip. “I’ve missed your funny upside-down mouth.”

She drew back from him, not easy to do considering she was sitting on his lap. “Nothing’s changed.”

He smiled at her. “True. Nothing’s changed between us since I nearly raped you in the ship’s cabin. We’ve loved each other since our first meeting, and it will never change.”

“No, please,” she begged. “It’s over. Bianca—”

He raised one eyebrow. “I don’t want to hear her name again. I’ve had a lot of time to think since the flood. I realized then that you still loved me. It wasn’t Bianca who caused the problems between us; it was our own stubbornness. You knew I was afraid to lose the plantation, and I wasn’t strong enough alone, and you didn’t believe in me enough.”

“Clay—” she began. She knew in her heart how right he was, but she didn’t like to hear it.

“It’s all right, love. We’re going to start again. But this time, we’re staying together. This time, no one will be able to part us.”

She stared at him. They’d been through so much, and yet their love had lasted. She knew they would make it.

She leaned back on his shoulder, and his arms held her close. “It seems like I haven’t been away.”

He kissed the top of her head. “You have to get off my lap, or I’m going to throw you down on this couch and have my way with you.?

?

She wanted to laugh and tease with him, but the pain from her mother’s death was inside her too thoroughly.

“Come with me, sweet,” he said quietly. “Let’s go back to the mill and see to your mother. We have time later to make plans.” He lifted her chin in his hand. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she said firmly. “I do.”

He stood her on the floor, then stood beside her. Nicole’s eyes widened at the bulge in his trousers. The room suddenly seemed very warm.

“Come on,” he said hoarsely. “And stop looking at me like that.”

He took her hand and led her out of the room.

Neither of them saw Bianca standing just inside the dining room door. She’d been outside when she saw Nicole running toward the house. She’d hurried after her, planning what she’d say to her about trespassing. Inside the house she’d heard Nicole running through it, slamming bedroom doors, acting as if she owned the place. Bianca had been in the morning room—Nicole moved too quickly for the larger woman to keep pace with her—when she saw Clay. She’d stood outside the door and listened while they talked.

She had been pleased to hear Gerard’s wife was dead. They’d never spoken of the fact that he was already married, but Bianca knew the woman was old and couldn’t live too much longer.

She’d frozen when Nicole said Bianca was planning to murder Clay. When she heard Clay say Bianca wasn’t smart enough or courageous enough, she began to thaw. She changed from ice to fire in seconds. She knew now that she’d be able to carry out Gerard’s plan. Clayton Armstrong deserved to die after what he’d said about her.

She left the house and went to find a child she could send with a message to Gerard. She knew there was little time left before Clay took steps to rid himself of her.

Nicole stood outside the mill and drank deeply from a gourd dipper. The cool, fresh well water was welcome after a hard morning inside. The autumn grains were fully ripe, and there wasn’t a minute when they weren’t busy.

At least, the work kept her mind off the plans she and Clay had. They’d buried Adele in Clay’s family plot, next to his own mother. “So she’ll always be near us,” he said. Then, the two of them had gone to Bianca and discussed their futures. Clay said he was tired of secrets and wanted things in the open from now on. Bianca had been quiet, listening carefully to what Clay had to say. The offer he made her for lifetime support was very fair, and both Clay and Nicole knew it would place a great burden on both of them in future years. Clay sought Nicole’s hand under the table. There was a strong sense of support between them now.

After the meeting, they hadn’t spoken but had walked to the hidden clearing by the river. In spite of the fact that it had been well over a year since they’d made love, there was no urgency. They took their time, looking at each other, exploring, savoring. They were rediscovering each other.

There had been no long explanations, no rehashing of what idiots they’d been. There was no sense of something going to happen, only a deep joy that they were together again. They had felt as if they were one person, not two people who mistrusted, misjudged, and misunderstood each other.

“Nicole!”

Gerard’s sharp voice brought Nicole out of her reverie and into the present. “Yes?”

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you. One of the twins fell up on the ridge. Janie wants you to come.”

She threw the dipper down, lifted her skirts, and started running, with Gerard close behind her. The ridge was empty. “Where are they?”

Gerard stepped very close to her. “You’d do anything for them, wouldn’t you? You give yourself to everyone except me.”