Counterfeit Lady (James River Trilogy 1)

“Is he a man? Is your guest a man?”

“Yes.”

Adele sighed. “I hope he’s not one of those awful Russian princes.”

“No, he’s an American.”

“An American! How extraordinary. There are so few of them who are gentlemen. Whatever you do, don’t let him use strong language in front of you. And notice how he walks. You can always tell a gentleman by his posture. If your father wore rags, he’d still look like a gentleman!”

“Yes, Mama,” Nicole said dutifully before going down the stairs. Her life seemed very remote from judging whether a man was a gentleman or not.

“Wesley was telling me that Mr. Armstrong lives across the river. The marriage didn’t work out, then?” the doctor asked.

“It hasn’t been easy, but I still have hope.” She was trying to smile.

But she didn’t realize how much her face told of what she thought, or that there were sunken circles of tiredness under her eyes, almost hiding the fact that they were alive with hope—and desperation.

Dr. Donaldson frowned. “Have you been eating well, young lady? Getting enough sleep?”

Wes spoke before she could answer. “Nicole adopts people the way some people adopt stray cats. Recently, she took on two more to care for. She has Clay’s niece and nephew, who shouldn’t be her responsibility, and now she has her mother, who demands queenly service, and her mother’s husband, who thinks he’s the king of France.”

Nicole laughed. “You make it sound as if my life is a great burden. The truth is, Doctor, I love the people around me. I wouldn’t give up one of them.”

“I never thought you should,” Wes answered. “You should just be living in the house across the river, and Maggie should be doing the cooking, not you.”

Taking the pipe out of his pocket, the doctor leaned back in his chair. Things hadn’t gone very well for the little French lady, he thought. The young man, Wes, was right when he said she deserved better than to be worked to death. He’d planned to travel north, to Boston, right away, but now he decided he’d stay in Virginia for the next few months. He hated the way she’d been forced into a marriage she didn’t want, had always felt somehow responsible. Now he knew he must stay close by in case she did need help.

Nicole threw the hood back from her head and let the breeze touch her face. She moved the oars of the little rowboat into and out of the water. The snow was still on the ground. There were no buds on the trees, but something indefinable said that spring was in the air. It was two weeks since the doctor had first visited her. She smiled when she thought of how he’d said he’d be near if she needed him. How could she ever need him? She wanted so badly to tell him, to tell them all, that she and Clay would be leaving Virginia quite soon.

She’d been planning for months. The twins and Janie would, of course, go with her and Clay. She hated leaving her mother, but Gerard would be there, and later, when they had a house, Adele could come and live with them. Isaac could run the mill, and as long as he supported Gerard and Adele, the remaining profits could be his. When Adele joined Nicole in the west, Isaac could have the mill and run it with Luke’s help.

Oh, yes, it was all going to work out perfectly.

Yesterday, Clay had sent her a note asking her to meet him in the clearing this morning. Last night, she’d hardly been able to sleep. She kept dreaming of this meeting with Clay when all their plans would begin to come alive.

She took a deep breath of the clean, cold air, then caught a whiff of smoke. Clay was already at the cave. She threw the rope of the rowboat onto the bushes that led to the clearing, then stepped ashore and tied it.

She ran down the little path. As in part of her dream, Clay stood there, waiting for her, his arms outstretched. She leaped the last few steps and flung herself at him. He was so tall, so strong, and his chest was so hard. He held her very close, so close she couldn’t breathe. But she had no desire to breathe. All she wanted was to melt into him, become part of him.

She wanted to forget herself, to exist only with him.

He lifted her chin so that she faced him. His eyes were hungry, dark, ravenous. Nicole felt a surge of fire sear through her body. This is what she’d missed! She strained upward to clutch at his mouth with her teeth. She gave a low sound that was half growl, half laugh.

Clay’s tongue touched the corner of her mouth, just in the tiny hollow.

Nicole’s knees grew weak.

Clay laughed against her throat, then picked her up in his arms and carried her inside the velvet darkness of the cave.

There was a frenzy of movement. They were two people starved for each other, desperate, eager, greedy, demanding, as the fire burned along their skin and cried angrily to be released. Their clothes were discarded in seconds, flung about the cave with total disregard.

They didn’t speak as they came together. They allowed their skin to do their talking. They were fierce with each other. Nicole arched against Clay, and lightning flashed in her head. As she felt the throbbing sensations run through her, she smiled and began to relax.

“Clay,” she whispered, “I’ve missed you so much.”

He held her tightly to him, his breath soft and warm against her ear. “I love you. I love you so very much.” His voice sounded sad.

She pushed away from him, then snuggled against him so that her head rested in the hollow of his shoulder. “Today is the first morning I’ve been able to believe it’s nearly spring. It seems I’ve waited forever for spring.”