Counterfeit Lady (James River Trilogy 1)

“And her just a little thing, too. It’s gonna be a real pleasure to take you with us.”

“Wait a minute,” commanded the man in the striped shirt, obviously the leader. “How do we know it’s her? What about that one?” He pointed to Bianca, who still cowered in a corner of the carriage, making an unsuccessful attempt to disappear into the cushion. Her face was white, terror draining the blood away.

Nicole stood quietly, holding the horse’s head in her hands. To her, this was all a repeat of the horror she had known in France, and she knew enough to be quiet and look for a way to escape.

“That’s her,” said one of the men, pointing at Nicole. “I can tell a lady when I see one.”

“Which one of you is Bianca Maleson?” demanded the man in the striped shirt. He had a strong jaw covered with several days’ growth of beard.

So it was a kidnapping, Nicole thought. All the women had to do was prove that Bianca’s father was not wealthy enough to pay a ransom.

“She is,” Bianca said and sat up straight, her plump arm pointing rigidly at Nicole. “She’s the bleedin’ lady. I just works for her.”

“What’d I tell you?” said one of the men. “She don’t talk like no lady. I told you this one here’s the lady.”

Nicole stood very still, her back straight, her chin high, watching Bianca, whose eyes danced with triumph. She knew there was nothing she could do or say now; the men would take her away. Of course, when they learned she was a penniless French refugee, they would release her, since they would have no hope of obtaining a ransom.

“That’s it, then, little lady,” one of the men said. “You’re to come with us. And I hope you got more sense than to give us any trouble.”

Nicole could only shake her head mutely.

The man extended his hand down to her, and she took it, slipped her foot into the stirrup beside his, and was quickly in the saddle in front of him, with both of her feet hanging down one side of the horse.

“She’s a looker, ain’t she?” the man said. “No wonder he wants her brought to him. You know, I knew she was a lady as soon as I seen her. You can always tell a lady by the way she moves.” He smiled in satisfaction at his knowledge. He held one hairy arm around Nicole’s waist and awkwardly reined the horse away from the still carriage.

Bianca sat perfectly still for several minutes, staring after them. She was glad, of course, that her sharp wit had let her escape from the men, but it made her angry that the stupid men couldn’t see that she was the lady. When the park was silent again, she began to look about her. She was stranded, alone. She could not drive the carriage, so how was she to get home? The only way was to walk. As her heel touched the gravel and the rocks bit into her flesh through the thin leather slippers, she cursed Nicole for causing her such pain. On the long, painful walk home, she cursed Nicole repeatedly and was so angry when she finally arrived home that she completely forgot about the kidnapping. Only later, after she and her father had shared a seven-course supper, did she mention the abduction to him. Jacob Maleson, half asleep, said they’d release the girl, but he’d talk to the authorities in the morning. Bianca made her way up to her bedroom, dreading having to find another maid. They were such an ungrateful lot.

The ground floor of the inn was one long room with stone walls that made it cool and dark inside. There were several long trestle tables set about the room. The four kidnappers sat on the benches at one table. Before them were thick stoneware bowls filled with a coarsely chopped beef stew and tall mugs of cool ale. The men sat gingerly on the hard benches. A day spent on horseback was a new experience, and they were paying for it now with their soreness.

“I don’t trust her, that’s all I’m sayin’,” said one of the men. “She’s too bleedin’ quiet. She looks all innocence with them big eyes, but I say she’s plannin’ somethin’. And that somethin’ is gonna get us in trouble.”

The other three men listened to him, frowns on their faces.

The first man continued. “You know what he’s like. I ain’t gonna risk losin’ her. All I want is to get her to America, to him, just like he ordered, and I don’t want nothin’ goin’ wrong.”

The man in the striped shirt took a long drink of ale. “Joe’s right. Any lady can handle a horse like she did ain’t gonna be afraid of tryin’ to escape. Anybody want to volunteer to watch her all night?”

The men groaned, feeling their sore muscles. They would have considered tying up their prisoner, but their orders about that had been very strict. They were not to harm her in any way.

“Joe, you remember that time the doc took them stitches in your chest?”

Joe nodded, puzzled.

“Remember that white stuff he gave you to make you sleep? Think you could get some?”

Joe looked around at the other patrons of the inn. They ranged from a couple of gutter rats to a well-heeled gentleman alone in a corner. Joe knew he could buy anything from such a group. “I think I can get some,” he said.

Sitting quietly on the edge of the bed in the dirty little upstairs room, Nicole looked at her surroundings. She’d already been to the window and had discovered there was a drainpipe outside and a storage shed roof just below the window. Later, when it was darker and the yard was quieter, maybe she could risk trying to escape. Of course, she could tell the men her true identity, but it was a little early yet as they were only a few hours away from Bianca’s home. She wondered how Bianca had gotten home, how many hours it had taken her if she’d had to walk. Then it would take Mr. Maleson some time to get to the county sheriff and send out alarms and searches for her. No, it was too soon yet to reveal herself to the men. Tonight she would try to escape, and if that failed she would tell them in the morning of their mistake. Then they would release

her. Please, God, she prayed, let them not be angry.

As the door opened, she looked up at the four men entering the little room.

“We brought you somethin’ to drink. Real chocolate from South America. You know, one of us could of been on the voyage what brought this here.”

Sailors! she thought as she took the mug. Why hadn’t she realized it before? That’s why they were so awkward on the horses, why their clothes smelled so strange.

As she drank the delicious chocolate, she began to relax, the warmth and creaminess seeping through her and making her realize how tired she was. Trying to concentrate on her plan of escape, her thoughts kept drifting, floating away. She looked up at the men as they hovered over her, watching her anxiously like giant, grizzled babysitters, and she wanted to reassure them for some reason. Smiling, she closed her eyes and let herself drift away into sleep.