Janie gasped. “Listen, you!”
“Janie!” Nicole snapped. “The twins are more important now. I’ll take her some bread and cheese. She’ll have to make do with that. I’ll join the search as soon as possible. Please,” she added when she saw Janie glaring at Gerard. “I need help now. Please don’t add to my problems.”
Janie and Isaac left the house as Nicole began tossing bread and cheese into a basket. Adele’s tapping was urgent now, and Nicole was unaware of the way Gerard watched her as he leaned nonchalantly against a wall cabinet.
Nicole felt guilty about the way she had fairly tossed the food into her mother’s lap, and she could see the hurt in Adele’s eyes. Leaving her mother added to her guilt feelings, but the twins must be found. Even as she ran out the door and started calling the twins, she saw the two wayward children running across the yard toward her.
Chapter 17
GLANCING AT THE CLOCK ON THE CABINET BY THE door, Nicole moved slowly from the fireplace to the kitchen table. She must remember to punch down the brioche dough in ten minutes. The twins were playing quietly in the far corner of the room, Alex with several carved wooden animals and Mandy with a wax-faced doll that was supposed to be a farmer’s wife.
“Nicole,” Alex asked, “can we go outside after we eat?”
She sighed. “I hope so, if the snow stops falling. Maybe you can get Isaac to help you build a snowman.”
The twins grinned at each other as they returned to their play.
The door opened, and the rush of cold air threatened to extinguish the fire. “This is the coldest March I have ever seen,” Janie said as she held her hands out to the fire. “I don’t think spring will ever come.”
“Nor do I,” Nicole whispered. She balled her hand into a fist and punched it viciously into the rising dough. Spring! she thought. The time when she and Clay were to go away together. Janie said that this winter had been the wettest and coldest she had ever seen in Virginia. Because of the snow, they had all been housebound—four adults and two children caught together in the small house. In the month since Gerard and Adele had arrived, Nicole had seen Clay only once. Yet even then he had looked distracted, worried about something.
“Good morning,” Gerard said as he came down the stairs. Immediately after his arrival, the sleeping arrangements had changed. He and Adele now slept in the twins’ bed upstairs, while the children slept on mattresses set up each night on the first floor. Janie and Nicole slept upstairs, a curtain separating them from the married couple.
“Morning!” Janie snorted. “It’s nearly noon.”
Gerard, as usual, ignored her. They had come to dislike each other with a great intensity. “Nicole,” he said in a pleading voice, “do you think you could do something about the noise so early in the morning?”
She was too tired from cooking and cleaning and taking care of so many people to make any answer.
“And also, the cuffs on my lavender jacket are soiled. I do hope you can clean them,” he continued, holding his arms out and studying the clothes he wore. His blue jacket reached to his knees, tight about the waist, fastened with heavy black braid, and flaring broadly over his slim hips that were covered in breeches buttoned at his knee, above silk hose leading to thin, flexible pumps. A vest of yellow satin, embroidered with bright blue stars, covered a white silk shirt fastened with a green cravat. He’d been appalled when he discovered that Nicole didn’t know that a green cravat meant he was French nobility. “It’s a small way in which we can separate ourselves from the commoners,” he said.
The tapping on the ceiling made Nicole look up from her bread. Adele was awake earlier than usual.
“I’ll go to her,” Janie said.
Nicole smiled. “You know she’s not used to you yet.”
“Is she going to start screaming again?” Alex asked anxiously.
“Can we go outside?” Mandy asked.
“No and no,” Nicole answered. “You can go out later.” She grabbed a small tray, poured a glass of sweet apple cider, and carried it up to her mother.
“Good morning, dear,” Adele said. “You aren’t looking well at all this morning. Aren’t you feeling well?” Adele spoke French, as she always did. Although Nicole had tried to get her to speak English, a language she spoke quite well, Adele refused.
“I’m just a little tired is all.”
Adele’s eyes twinkled. “That German count kept you dancing for too long last night, didn’t he?”
It was no use to try to reason or explain, so Nicole merely nodded. If her mother came back to reality for even a short time, she began to scream, and drugs had to be used to make her stop. Sometimes, she wavered between hysteria and a fanciful calmness. During a calm stage, she spoke of murder and death, of her time in prison, of her friends who walked out the door and never returned. Nicole hated those times the most, since she remembered too many of the people her mother said had been executed. She remembered sweet, frivolous women who had never known anything except luxury and comfort all their lives. Every time she thought of those women walking toward their deaths, she could hardly keep from crying.
A voice from downstairs drew her attention. Wesley! she thought with a surge of joy, grateful that her mother was leaning back against the pillows of the bed and closing her eyes. Adele rarely got out of bed, but she sometimes demanded hours of attention.
As always, feeling a little guilty, Nicole left her mother and went down to greet her guest. She hadn’t seen Wes since that awful Christmas dinner more than three months ago.
He was deep in discussion with Janie, and Nicole could tell she was explaining about Gerard and Adele. “Wesley,” she said, “it’s so good to see you again.”
There was a big smile on his face as he turned, but it faded instantly. “Good God, Nicole! You look awful! You look like you’ve lost twenty pounds and haven’t slept in a year.”
“That’s about the truth,” Janie said irritably.
As Wes looked from Janie to Nicole, he saw that neither woman looked good. The roses were gone from Janie’s cheeks. Behind the women was a little blond man standing over the twins, watching the children with a slight curl of distaste on his thick lips.
“Alex and Mandy, do you think you can get some boots and heavy coats on? And Nicole, I want you and Janie to dress warmly, too. We’re going for a walk.”
“Wes,” Nicole began, “I really can’t. I have bread rising and my mother—” She stopped. “Yes, I would like to go for a walk.”
Nicole ran upstairs to get her new cloak, the one Clay had had made for her because she had won the bet on the horses at the Backes’s party. The deep maroon camlet, a mixture of mohair and silk, shimmered from the long, lush nap as she swirled the heavy cape around before fastening it about her shoulders. The hood hanging down her back showed the deep, rich, black mink that lined the entire cape.
The outside air felt good and clean with the snow still falling, the flakes often landing on her lashes. The dark mink framed her face as she drew the hood up.
“What’s been going on?” Wes asked as he drew Nicole aside once they were outside, watching Janie, the twins, and Isaac engaging in a halfhearted snowball fight. “I thought everything would be fine between you and Clay after the Backes’s party and after we got you off the island.”
“It will be,” she said confidently. “It will just take time.”
“I have no doubt Bianca is at the bottom of this.”
“Please, I’d rather not talk about it. How have you and Travis been?”
“Lonely. We’re getting sick of each other’s company. Travis is going to England in the spring to look for a wife.”
“To England? But there are several beautiful young women right around here.”
Wesley shrugged. “That’s what I told him, but I think you spoiled him. Personally, I’m going to wait for you. If Clay doesn’t wise up soon, I’m going to try to steal you away from him.”
“Don’t say that, please,” she whi
spered. “I think maybe I’m superstitious.”
“Nicole, something is wrong, isn’t it?”
Tears came to her eyes. “I’m just so tired and…I haven’t seen Clay in weeks. I don’t know what he’s doing. I have this awful fear that he’s fallen in love with Bianca and doesn’t want to tell me.”
Smiling, Wes put his arms around her, pulling her close. “You have too much to do, too much responsibility. The last thing you should have to worry about is Clay’s love. How can you think he’s in love with a bitch like Bianca? If she’s in his house and you’re here, then it’s for a damned good reason.” He paused. “Your safety, maybe, since I can’t think of anything else that would keep Clay away from you.”
Sniffling, she nodded against him. “Did he tell you?”
“Some of it, but not much. Come on, let’s go help them build a snowman, or better yet, let’s challenge them to a snowman duel.”
“Yes,” she smiled, drawing away from him. She wiped her eyes with her knuckle. “You’ll think I’m no older than the twins.”
He kissed her forehead as he smiled. “Some child! Come on, let’s go before they use up all the snow.”
A voice crying from the direction of the river stopped them. “Hello! Is anyone home?”
Wesley and Nicole turned and walked toward the wharf.
An older man, heavyset, with a fresh scar across his left cheek, was walking toward them. He wore the dress of a sailor, a knapsack thrown over his shoulder. “Mrs. Armstrong?” he said as he came to stand before her. “Don’t you remember me? I’m Dr. Donaldson from the Prince Nelson.”
He did seem vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t remember exactly where she’d seen him before.
Several lines showed at the corners of his eyes as he smiled. “The circumstances were, I admit, not the best when we met, but I see things have turned out well.” He held out his hand to Wesley. “You must be Clayton Armstrong.”
“No,” Wes said as he took the man’s hand. “I’m a neighbor, Wesley Stanford.”
“Oh, I see. Well, then, maybe I am needed. I hoped things had changed, I mean with this young lady being so kind and pretty.”
“The doctor on the ship!” Nicole gasped. “At the marriage!”
“Yes.” He grinned. “As soon as I got to England, a message reached me that I was to return to Virginia at once since I was the only witness who would testify that it was a forced marriage. I came as soon as I could and got directions to the mill. It was confusing about where the Armstrong plantation was and who lived at the mill. I took my chances and came here first.”
“I am so glad you did. Are you hungry? I could scramble some eggs and there’s ham and bacon and a pot of beans.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
Later, when the three of them were seated at the table, the doctor told them of the captain of the Prince Nelson and his first mate, Frank. Both men had been drowned on their return trip to England.
“I refused to sail with them again after what they’d done to you. I guess I should have tried to stop them but I knew they’d just get another witness, and besides, I knew the annulment laws too. I knew I’d be the witness you needed if you did want that annulment.”
“Then why did you go back to England so fast?” Wes asked.
The doctor grinned. “I didn’t exactly have a choice. We were all in a tavern celebrating our safe arrival. The next thing I knew, I woke aboard ship with a splitting headache. It was three days before I could even remember my name.”
A loud tapping coming from the ceiling interrupted his talk and made Nicole jump. “My mother! I forgot her breakfast. Please excuse me.” With deftness, Nicole poached an egg and carefully set it atop a day-old slice of brioche, next to an apple tart on a separate plate and a steaming cup of café au lait. She hurried up the stairs with it.
“Sit with me for a while,” Adele said. “It’s very lonely here.”
“There is a guest below, but later I’ll come and we can talk.”
“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.”
Clay leaned over her and got her cape. He spread it over them, the mink against their skin.
Nicole smiled deliciously and rubbed her thigh over Clay’s. The moment was perfect—held in her lover’s arms, alone, their bodies sated, caressed by the luscious mink.
“How is your mother?” Clay asked.
“She doesn’t scream as much as she did. I’m glad because it frightens the twins terribly.”
“Nicole, I’ve told you that you should send the twins back to me. There’s no room for them with you.”
“Please let them stay.”
Counterfeit Lady Page 27
