Counterfeit Lady

by Jude Deveraux

  “So! There you are! You’ve been out all night again.”

  “Did you miss me?” Clay asked sarcastically.

  She gave him a look that answered his question. “Where is everyone, and why isn’t breakfast on the table?”

  “I thought perhaps your concern was for me, but instead it’s for Maggie’s handiwork.”

  “I want an answer! Where is breakfast?”

  “Breakfast is now being served across the river at Nicole’s mill.”

  “Her! That slut! So that’s where you’ve been. I should have known you couldn’t live without your disgusting, primitive needs. What did she use this time to entice you? Did she tell you something about me?”

  Clay looked away in disgust and started up the stairs. “Your name was never brought up, thank God.”

  “At least she’s learned that,” Bianca said smugly. “She’s smart enough to know that I see through her, see what she’s really like. The rest of you are too blind to see what a greedy, conniving liar she is.”

  Clay turned on Bianca with a snarl. He leaped four steps at once to stand before her. He grabbed her by the neck of her gown and slammed her hard against the wall. “You piece of filth! You have no right even to speak her name. You’ve never done a fair or decent thing in your life for anyone, and you accuse her of being just like you. Last night, Nicole sacrificed several acres of her land to save mine. That’s where I’ve been all night, digging right beside her and other people who know what kindness and generosity are.”

  He pushed Bianca against the wall again. “You’ve used me all you’re going to. From now on, I’m going to run this place, not you.”

  Bianca had to work hard to breathe. His hands were cutting off her circulation. Her fat cheeks bulged with the pressure. “You can’t go to her. I’m your wife,” she gasped. “This place is mine.”

  “Wife!” he sneered. “For the things I’ve done, I think I almost deserve you.” He released her and stepped back. “Look at yourself! You don’t like yourself any more than anyone else likes you.” He turned away and went up the stairs to his room, where he fell on the bed and was asleep instantly.

  Bianca stood as still as a piece of marble after Clayton left. What did he mean, she didn’t like herself? She came from an old and important English family. How could she not be proud of herself?

  Her stomach rumbled, and she put her hand to it. Slowly, she left the house and went to the kitchen. She knew nothing about cooking, and the barrels of flour and other raw ingredients were confusing to her. She was hungry, very hungry, and she could find nothing to eat. Tears blurred her eyes as she left the kitchen and walked toward the garden.

  At the end of the garden was a little pavilion, privately hidden under two enormous old magnolia trees. She sat down heavily on a cushion; then, when she realized it was soaking wet, she started to rise. But what was the use? Her beautiful gown was already ruined. The tears ran down her face as she plucked at the feathers on her gown.

  “May I disturb you?” came a quiet, accented voice.

  Bianca’s head shot up. “Gerard!” she gasped as more tears came to her eyes.

  “You’ve been crying,” he said sympathetically. He started to sit beside her, then saw the cushions were wet. He tossed one over the railing, then used a handkerchief, not Adele’s silk one, to wipe most of the water from the wooden seat. He sat down. “Please tell me what is wrong. You look as if you could use a friend.”

  Bianca buried her face in her hands. “A friend! I have no friends! Everyone in this horrible country hates me. This morning, he said that I didn’t even like myself.”

  Gerard bent forward and touched Bianca’s hair. It wasn’t quite clean. “Don’t you realize that he’d say anything to hurt you? He only wants Nicole. He’ll do anything or say anything to get her. He wants to drive you away so he can have her.”

  Bianca looked at him, her little eyes red over her swollen cheeks. “He can’t have her. He’s married to me.”

  Gerard smiled as if she were a child. “How very innocent you are. You’re so sweet and vulnerable, so unsophisticated. Did he tell you where he was last night?”

  She waved her hand. “He said something about a flood and Nicole saving his land.”

  “Of course, she’d save his land. She plans for it to be hers someday. She made it seem that she was making a grand sacrifice, but actually she was creating more bottomland for the Armstrong plantation. And someday she plans for it to be hers again.”

  “But how? There were witnesses to my marriage to Clay. It can’t be annulled.”

  Gerard patted her hand. “You are a true lady. You can’t even imagine the treachery of those two. You played some tricks on them, but they were only tricks, nothing that really hurt anyone. Even the kidnapping wasn’t meant to hurt. But their plans aren’t so innocent—or fair.”

  “What…do you mean? Divorce?”

  Gerard was silent for a moment. “I only wish it were divorce. I think they’re planning…murder.”

  Bianca gaped at him for a moment. At first, she had no idea whose murder he meant. The idea of Nicole falling off a cliff appealed to her. If Nicole were gone, her life would be a lot better. But she was puzzled about why Clay would contemplate murdering Nicole.

  Very slowly did she become aware of what Gerard meant. “Me?” she whispered. “They want to kill me?”

  Gerard held her hand tightly. “I’m afraid I am as naive as you are. It took me a long time to understand what was going on. I couldn’t understand why Nicole would voluntarily dig away part of her land unless she had a motive that no one else saw. It finally came to me this morning. Those barbarians made so much noise in the mill that I couldn’t sleep. I realized that if Nicole once again became mistress of the plantation, then the new land created by the changing of the river’s course would be to her advantage.”

  “But…murder!” Bianca gasped. “Surely, you must be wrong.”

  “Has Armstrong ever tried to hurt you? Ever struck you?”

  “This morning. He pushed me against a wall. I could hardly breathe.”

  “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.”

  “He is as disgustingly healthy as one of his mules. I thought maybe he’d drink himself to death, but he hasn’t touched anything since the rains.”

  “How many people know that? It’s common knowledge that he’s been drinking heavily for a year or more. What if he had an…accident while he was drunk?”

  Bianca leaned back and stared at the remaining food. There wasn’t much left, and she hated to leave it, but she honestly could hold no more. “I told you, he doesn’t drink anymore,” she said absently.

  Gerard gritted his teeth at her denseness. “Don’t you think we could arrange one last time?”

  Slowly, Bianca lifted her head and looked at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Clayton Armstrong is an evil man. He brought you here under false pretenses. Then, when he got you to this horrible country, he used you, mistreated you.”

  “Yes,” Bianca whispered. “Yes.”

  “There isn’t any justice in the world that allows something like that to continue. You are his wife, yet he treats you like dirt. For God’s sake, he won’t even allow you to eat!”

  Bianca caressed her enormous stomach. “You’re right, but what can I do?”

  “Get rid of him.” He smiled at Bianca’s gasp. “Yes, you know what I mean.” He leaned over the dirty dishes and took her hand. “You have every right. You’re so sweet that you don’t even realize that it’s your life or his. Do you think a man like Clayton Armstrong would stop at murder?”

  She looked at him in fright.

  “What else can he do? He wants Nicole, and yet he’s married to you. Has he asked you for a divorce?”

  She shook her head.

  “He will. And will you give it to him?”

  Again, she shook her head.

  “Then he’ll find other ways to rid himself of an unwanted wife.”

  “No,” Bianca whispered. “I don’t believe you.” She tried to get up, but her size and all the food she’d eaten made her immobile.

  Gerard rose and put out his hands to her, his legs braced against her weight. “Think about it,” he said when she faced him. “It’s a matter of survival. It’s him or you.”

  She turned away from him. “I must go.” Her mind was whirling with the awful thoughts Gerard had placed there. She walked very slowly back to the house. Before she entered, she checked the doorways to make sure no one was hiding behind them. As she laboriously climbed the stairs, she knelt to feel for wires that were meant to trip her.

  It was a week later when Clay first mentioned divorce to her. She was very weak and tired from lack of food and rest. She hadn’t had a full meal since the picnic with Gerard. Clay had given orders that Bianca was to be placed on a strict diet. She hadn’t had much rest either, because she kept having dreams that Clay was standing over her with a knife, screaming that it was either him or her.

  When he did speak of divorce, it was like a nightmare coming to life. She sat in the morning room. Clay had it restored to the way it was before Bianca had redecorated it. It was as if he were already trying to remove all traces of her.

  “What do we have to offer each other?” Clay was saying. “I’m sure you care as little for me as I do for you.”

  Bianca stubbornly shook her head. “You just want her. You want to push me out into the cold so you can have her. The two of you planned this all along.”

  “That is the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.” Clay tried to control his temper. “You were the one who forced me to marry you.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You were the one who lied about having my child.”

  Bianca gasped and put her hand to the folds of flesh that covered her throat.

  Clay turned away and walked toward the window. He’d learned about Oliver Hawthorne only recently. The man lost most of his meager crops in the rain, and two of his sons had died from typhoid. He came to blackmail Clay for money. After Clay told him Bianca had miscarried, he threw the man off the plantation.

  “You hate me,” Bianca whispered.

  “No,” Clay said quietly. “Not anymore. All I want is for us to be free of each other. I’ll send you money. I’ll see that you’re comfortable.”

  “How can you do that? You think I’m stupid, but I know that nearly everything you make goes back into this place. It looks like you’re rich because you own so much, but you’re not. How can you support the
plantation and send me money?”

  He whirled on her, his eyes black with anger. “No, you’re not stupid, just unbelievably selfish. Don’t you realize how much I want to get rid of you? Can’t you see the way you disgust me? I’d be willing to sell the plantation just so I’d no longer have to look at that fat thing you call a face.” He opened his mouth to say more. Then he stopped and walked quickly out of the room.

  Bianca sat on the sofa, unmoving, for a long time. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of what Clay had said to her. Instead, she was thinking of Gerard. How nice it would be to live in Arundel Hall with him. She’d be the lady of the manor, planning menus, supervising meals, while he did whatever men do outside. In the evening, he’d come home, and they’d share a lovely meal. Then, he’d kiss her hand goodnight.

  She looked about the room and remembered how she’d once had it. Now it was so bare and plain. Gerard wouldn’t keep her from redecorating. No, Gerard loved her. As she was.

  She rose slowly from the couch. She knew she must see him, see the man she loved. There were no choices open to her now. Gerard had been right. Clay meant to get rid of her in any way he could.

  Chapter 22

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” GERARD DEMANDED AS he helped Bianca from the rowboat on Nicole’s side of the river. He looked around anxiously.

  “I had to see you.”

  “Couldn’t you have sent a message? I would have come to you.”

  Bianca’s eyes filled with tears. “Please don’t be angry with me. I couldn’t bear any more anger.”

  Gerard considered her for a moment. “Come with me. We must keep out of sight of the house.”

  She nodded and followed him. It was difficult walking. She had to stop twice to catch her breath.

  When they were on top of a rise overlooking the house, Gerard let her stop. “Now, tell me what’s happened.” He listened carefully to Bianca’s long, emotional outburst. “So he knows the child you carried wasn’t his.”