Defiant Impostor

by Miriam Minger

  Get hold of yourself, Susanna Jane, and consider it a game, she chided herself. Or pretend you’re an actress in a play. Just remember, everything you do is for Camille’s sake.

  “I hope you didn’t turn your ankle. Does it hurt?”

  Susanna shook her head and offered her attractive rescuer a faint smile. Feeling calmer and in more control of her wits, she suddenly saw him in a new light and felt a twinge of tense excitement.

  Might this man be a wealthy tobacco planter? From the fine cut of his coat and breeches, lacking adornment though they did, and his black leather jackboots, an expensive pair from the looks of them, it was possible. And he knew her. Had he been a good friend of James Cary’s, perhaps a prominent, unmarried friend?

  Susanna demurely lowered her lashes as she had seen Camille do countless times, and, ready to begin the game, murmured, “You were very kind to help me, Mr.—”

  “Thornton. Adam Thornton. Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner, Miss Cary.”

  Of course. Adam Thornton, she thought, intensely disappointed, her earlier hopes fading. Not a rich planter, prominent personage, or even a true gentleman—but a hired man. Mr. Cary’s plantation manager. It made sense that he had been the one to greet the Charming Nancy. And to think she had been so eager to meet him, might even have welcomed his attentions at one time. But that was before—

  “Perhaps your father mentioned me in his letters. I’ve been the plantation manager at Briarwood for several years now, and I’ve certainly heard a great deal about you. I’m glad that we’ve finally had the chance to meet.”

  Disconcerted by his deep, husky voice, Susanna noticed that he was still holding her arm, his fingers exerting a gentle pressure that felt almost like a caress. Dizzying warmth rippled through her, but she quickly attributed it to the hot late-morning sun.

  Surely it was most unseemly for him to be touching her in such a possessive manner! She was no longer in any danger of falling. And why was he still looking at her so intently?

  “Yes, yes, I know of you,” she said softly, doing her best to stifle her irritation at his boldness and to remind herself that she must act like Camille. “Papa …” How strange it sounded to call the late Mr. Cary “Papa.” “My father did mention you in his letters, Mr. Thornton. Many times, actually. He spoke highly of everything you’ve done for Briarwood.”

  And how often Camille—intent upon playing the matchmaker—had speculated about this Adam Thornton as a potential husband for her, Susanna thought, recalling Camille’s prediction for her future in the Virginia colony.

  “Mr. Thornton must be a good man, Susanna, or Papa wouldn’t have employed him for so long. And you’ve always said you want an honest, hardworking man with promising prospects for a husband. I know what we’ll do! After my wedding, we’ll plan one for you. How about in the springtime? Oh, you’ll make the prettiest bride! ‘Mrs. Susanna Thornton’ has a lovely sound to it, don’t you agree?”

  But then, just before she had died, Camille had told her to marry wisely as she herself would have done, Susanna remembered with heartrending clarity. Camille must have realized that Adam Thornton was no longer a proper match now that Susanna was to take her place in Virginia. A hired man wasn’t good enough to marry an heiress. It was as simple as that.

  “So this must be Miss Cary!” a loud voice boomed from across the dock, bringing Susanna’s attention back to the present. As she watched a rotund gentleman approach them, she felt Adam’s grip tighten on her arm and draw her closer to his side. She thought to protest this new and puzzling affront, but again she held her tongue. Camille would have borne it meekly.

  “My dear girl, allow me to introduce myself,” the richly dressed gentleman enthused, bowing and taking her hand. “My name is Robert Grymes. I was a good friend of your father’s.” His friendly face clouded and he squeezed her fingers in sympathy. “Such a tragic loss, James’s death. So unexpected. My sincerest condolences to you, Miss Cary.”

  Susanna mustered a small smile. “Thank you.”

  Robert Grymes cleared his throat and, releasing her hand, he clapped his soft palms together, his wide grin reappearing. Clearly his expression of grief was short-lived.

  “I’m pleased to say that I’m a neighbor of yours, Miss Cary, though my plantation is downriver a good ways from Briarwood. My wife Charity and I would be delighted if you’d come by for supper within the week and meet the rest of the family. I’ve a daughter about your age, Celeste, and three sons, Tyler, Francis, and Matthew, the eld—”

  “Miss Cary will probably need at least a week or more to recuperate from her voyage,” Adam interrupted coldly. “If you recall, Grymes, she’s had a harrowing trip. We’re fortunate that she was spared the fever” —his arresting eyes, flecked with shards of gold, flickered over her appraisingly— “and has arrived in such remarkably vibrant health.”

  Susanna glanced at him in shock, hardly believing he would speak for her as if he had the right to. Who did he think he was, anyway?

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Robert said, nodding his head so vigorously that the curls of his powdered wig bobbed. “Forgive me, Miss Cary. It was not my intent to inconvenience you. Please come and visit us, but only when you’re rested enough to do so … Oh, and don’t feel you must wait for a formal invitation. We Virginians rarely use them. We pride ourselves upon our hospitality, a code of courtesy you might say, and welcome visitors whenever they chance by.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Grymes,” she murmured through clenched teeth, pointedly ignoring Adam’s hard look of disapproval. But she said nothing more and did not commit herself to any visit, knowing Camille would have wished to stay at home. She sensed the planter must have heard of her shyness, though, when instead of excusing himself, he persisted by trying another tack.

  “Come to think of it, I have an even better idea, Miss Cary. Perhaps my family and I might take it upon ourselves to visit Briarwood. Such an arrangement would spare you from any unnecessary traveling. The summer is a rather tedious time for us planters since the tobo is ripening in the fields, which gives us some respite for amusement. Why, we could make a grand welcome ball of it, say, on Saturday which is almost a full week away, and invite some of your other neighbors, who I’m sure are eager to meet you. I would think you’d be well-rested by then—”

  “I have it upon excellent knowledge that Miss Cary is not one for social gatherings,” Adam interjected again, his tone even more rude. “She prefers more peaceful pastimes.”

  “Nonsense,” Robert objected with a good-natured chortle, clearly undaunted or perhaps just accustomed to dealing with Adam’s surly manners. “What young lady doesn’t like such amusements? Why, my pretty Celeste was a shy one until her fourteenth birthday, then when she saw what fun all the other girls were having, she came around. I believe the best cure for such a malady is to expose oneself to frivolity on a regular basis. I’m sure Miss Cary will find there is no harm in meeting her neighbors.”

  “Sorry, Grymes, but it won’t be possible. Now if you’ll excuse us, Elias is waiting with the carriage to take us back to Briarwood. I’m sure Miss Cary is eager to see her home.”

  Susanna felt Adam’s insistent tug on her arm as he attempted to steer her away, but she chose to ignore it and remained right where she stood. How dare both of these men talk over her head as if she wasn’t there, as if she didn’t have a tongue with which to speak! What in bloody hell was going on here? She was so angry that this time it was difficult to keep her voice mild and steady.

  “I think a house party at Briarwood on Saturday would be delightful,” she said, glancing from Adam to Robert Grymes and then demurely at the ground. “Papa would have wanted me to meet my neighbors.”

  When she received no ready reply, Susanna peeked through her lashes to find the planter beaming from ear to ear and Adam glowering, his jaw taut. She knew he couldn’t argue with such a statement. Of course she would want to meet her neighbors, whether she was shy or not.

  She w
as eager to fulfill her promise to Camille by launching herself into the Tidewater’s social whirl so she might find the right husband, but she would have to move slowly if she was to maintain her deception. A reputedly timid young woman would not become a popular belle overnight, yet a welcome ball would be a good way to start and it could lead to other outings. She had always dreamed of attending such an event, but as a lady’s maid, it had been out of the question. Now she would have her chance.

  Before long she ought to feel right at home among the gentry and be able to drop this unpleasant part of her masquerade. She had barely arrived, yet already acting so unlike herself was beginning to chafe, no thanks to the overbearing Adam Thornton, who seemed determined to go beyond the bounds of social propriety with his unseemly possessiveness. She looked forward to giving him a good dressing-down, but for now, she must exercise patience, not one of her stronger traits. Heaven give her the strength to curb her tongue and her temper!

  “Splendid, Miss Cary!” Robert exclaimed, finding his voice at last. “Absolutely splendid!” He waved his hand with a wide flourish toward the gentlemen still gathered near the gangplank. “If I may, I shall tell the others. What a wonderful day it will be!”

  Susanna gave a slight nod, and the planter hurried away.

  “House party, my foot,” Adam grumbled under his breath. “You’re going to have a blasted mob on your hands. Every single male in the county will be there.”

  “Did you say something, Mr. Thornton?” she asked innocently, though she had heard him well enough.

  She didn’t understand his obvious resentment. Why should it matter to him if she met some eligible young gentlemen? Surely he knew James Cary had summoned Camille home to find an appropriate husband.

  “I said, if you would point out your trunks, Miss Cary, I’ll have them loaded onto the carriage and we’ll be on our way,” Adam replied, unsettled by how quickly his plans had gone awry.

  He had wanted to have Camille all to himself for the next few weeks, which would have given him plenty of time to court her without any outside interruptions. Now that was not to be. Leave it to that fool Robert Grymes to pressure the girl into something she didn’t really want to do. He would just have to inform her of his intention to marry her a little sooner than he had planned, and before any other bastards had a chance to meet her.

  Maybe he would tell her tonight and be done with it, Adam thought. If he worked fast enough, he might even announce the betrothal at this welcome ball. By God, he could imagine the look on Grymes’s face at the news. He could just as easily imagine the look on Dominick Spencer’s face if the planter had the audacity to show up at Briarwood. Adam would sell his soul for such a moment.

  “My trunks are over there, Mr. Thornton.”

  Adam signaled to Elias, who was still waiting patiently by the carriage. The huge black man rushed forward and lifted one after the other of her three trunks, carrying them back to the coach as if they contained nothing but feathers. After the luggage was secured, he re-tethered Adam’s mount to the vehicle and called, “All’s ready, Mr. Thornton!”

  “Have you no maid?” Adam queried, it suddenly dawning on him that of course Camille wouldn’t have traveled such a distance alone. “I recall Mr. Cary saying you had a devoted waiting-maid about your age named Susanna Guthrie. Where is she?”

  Susanna felt the color draining from her face. She had never thought to hear her own name mentioned in Virginia. It was an eerie sensation, especially since she knew no one would ever call her that again.

  “She died a little over a week ago. The fever…” It was simply too painful to say more. Susanna fell silent, her gaze fixed on the river.

  “I’m very sorry, Camille. Come, I’ll take you home.”

  A few moments ago, Susanna might have taken offense that he called her by her first name. Now, it didn’t seem to matter.

  Turning away from the Charming Nancy, she allowed him to lead her to the carriage, which was drawn by two magnificent dappled grays. He lifted her inside, his strong, tanned hands easily encircling her waist, and took a place beside her on the plush wine-colored velvet seat. She didn’t look back as the coach jolted into motion and rumbled away from the bustling dock. She never wanted to see that cursed ship again.

  Chapter 4

  Susanna said little during their journey to Briarwood, which seemed to make no difference to Adam.

  When he had ascertained by her soft-spoken “No” that she remembered nothing about her place of birth—which was entirely believable since Camille had been only three years old when she was sent away to England—he kept up a steady and interesting commentary about Yorktown and the rest of the colony, until, after a while, she felt her melancholy begin to lift. The countryside was beautiful, although lacking the lush rolling hills of the Cotswolds, and it felt so good to be on dry land again. Only at one point did she venture to ask a question, her avid curiosity getting the better of her.

  “I heard there are still Indians in Virginia. Do you think we might see any?”

  A low chuckle rumbled from his throat. “Not unless you travel far to the west and into the wilderness. The Indians retreated from this region years ago when the white men became too plentiful.” His gaze traveled slowly over her features, lingering overlong upon her lips, then he looked directly into her eyes, his expression sobering. “Don’t worry, Miss Cary. If any wild savages chance to cross our path, have no fear that I will protect you.”

  Feeling her cheeks grow warm at the strange intensity of his gaze, Susanna was tempted to retort that she wasn’t worried or frightened. She would have liked to see some Indians, but since that would hardly be something Camille would have said, she directed her attention out the window, becoming increasingly exasperated with herself.

  Dear Lord, what was it about this man that so easily pricked her temper? It didn’t make sense. She had known him for perhaps two hours! Maybe it was because he seemed so sure of himself, and so completely sure of her. Or perhaps it was his condescending attitude that most irked her; that, and the tone that crept into his voice sometimes, as if he was speaking to a child instead of a young woman.

  Susanna hazarded a glance at him to find that he was still looking at her. He smiled, his teeth a startling white against his tanned face. As she quickly turned back to the window, flustered anew, she decided that he must spend a great deal of time out-of-doors to have skin so darkened by the sun. She imagined his chest and back must be bronzed as well, in keeping with his job as a plantation manager. She had no doubt that he stripped off his shirt to work as any hired man might in the summer heat. She could almost picture him … his golden-brown skin glistening with sweat, the muscles across his shoulders and upper back bulging powerfully as he lifted the ax or hoisted a heavy barrel—

  Susanna gasped as Adam suddenly leaned against her, his arm grazing her breasts as he pointed out the window, his hard muscled thigh pushing against her leg.

  “See those trees?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “They form the southern boundary of Briarwood. Welcome home, Miss Cary.”

  Flushed with embarrassment and not daring to breathe or move, she kept her gaze trained upon the towering oak trees, but she scarcely saw them. Her senses were blinded to everything except the heat of Adam’s body pressed against her and the compelling scent of him, clean yet slightly musky.

  She had been so close to a man only once before, a few weeks before leaving Fairford, when a handsome village swain who had taken a fancy to her had cornered her in the Redmayne coach house. He had kissed her full on the mouth, his passionate ardor nearly dragging the breath from her body until she had stamped upon his foot and he had abruptly released her. Then she had slapped his face and run away. But some wild part of herself had wanted to feel his hands roaming over her body and his hard desire pressing through her skirt.

  Susanna rolled her eyes, dismayed by her wanton thoughts.

  This wasn’t the same thing! Adam was this close to her me
rely because he was pointing out something of interest to her. The boundary of Briarwood, for God’s sake! She could hardly grind her heel into his foot or slap him for that. His nearness was entirely innocent … or was it? Oh, when would this carriage ride be over?

  Susanna couldn’t relax even when Adam abruptly drew back and settled against the seat once more. Nor did she look at him; she was worried about how she might react if that same insufferably confident smile was upon his face. She kept her gaze fixed out the window, and was more than a bit relieved when the coach turned onto a wide, poplar-lined drive. As a magnificent brick mansion came into view, flanked by outbuildings half-hidden by flowering shrubs and trees, she was swept by nervous excitement, the previous moment’s incident temporarily forgotten. She could not believe she was finally here.

  Briarwood.

  It was grander than she would ever have imagined, the formal approach a beautifully landscaped prelude to the ivy-clad, two-story house that lay beyond. This place was even finer than the Redmayne country estate, which now held a solid second place in her estimation. Briarwood was truly the loveliest spot on earth.

  As the carriage pulled around a large circle edged in boxwood that terminated the drive, Susanna saw the front door open, and a host of black servants hurried down the broad stone steps to a wide walkway, where they formed a well-ordered line. Several footmen dressed in splendid blue-and-gold livery rushed forward to meet the coach. It seemed everything was happening so fast, the door opening and Adam climbing down so that he might assist her. Then she was walking with him toward the servants who, from their warm, expectant smiles, seemed genuinely pleased to see her.