Nicole’s stomach turned over when she saw the look in Clay’s eyes. She hurried out of the room, out of the house, and into the cool night air.
“Clay,” Bianca said. She removed her hand from his arm as soon as Nicole turned away, but she’d seen the power her touch had over him. He disgusted her as much as she remembered. His shirt was open at the throat, and he didn’t bother to wear a coat. She hated touching him, hated even being near him, but she’d suffer a lot to own the plantation. All the way up from the wharf, she’d looked at the houses around her, and that odious man from the boat said Clay owned it all. The dining room was richly furnished. She knew the wallpaper had been painted to order for the room. The furniture was obviously expensive, even if there was so little of it. Oh, yes, if she had to touch him to get this place, she’d do it. After they were married, she’d tell him to stay away from her.
Maggie brought in an enormous tray loaded with hot, deep-fried tarts and cool cheesecake. The custard pie was topped with an apricot glaze. “Where did Mrs. Armstrong go?”
“Back to the mill,” Clay said succinctly.
Maggie gave him a suspicious look and left.
Bianca looked up from a plate heaped with three desserts. She told herself that since she’d eaten so little supper she could now be generous with herself. “I’d like an explanation.”
When Clay was done, Bianca was finishing a second piece of custard pie. “So now I’m to be discarded like so much refuse, is that correct? All my love for you, all the misery I’ve gone through to get to you, means nothing. Clayton, if you’d only let those kidnappers tell me they were from you, I would have gone with them gladly. You know I wouldn’t have stayed away from you.” She blotted her lips gently, and tears came to her eyes. They were genuine. The thought of losing all Clay’s wealth made her want to rage. Damn that Nicole! The opportunist!
“No, please don’t say that. You belong here. You’ve always belonged here.”
His words seemed strange, but she didn’t question them. “When this witness to the marriage returns to America, you’ll get the annulment? You wouldn’t let me stay here and then…then discard me, would you?”
He raised her hand to his lips. “No, of course not.”
Bianca smiled at him, then stood. “I’m very tired. Do you think I could rest now?”
“Of course.” He took her arm to lead her upstairs, but she jerked away from him.
“Where are the servants? Where’s your housekeeper and butler?”
Clay followed her up the stairs. “There are some women who help Nicole, or did help her before she moved across the river, but they sleep over the loom house. I never felt I needed a butler or housekeeper.”
She stopped at the top of the stairs, her heart pounding from the exertion. She smiled demurely. “But now you have me. Of course, things will change.”
“Whatever you wish,” he said quietly, and opened the door to the room that had once been Nicole’s.
“Plain,” she said, “but adequate.”
Clay walked to the bow-front cabinet and touched a porcelain figurine. “It was Beth’s room,” he said, then turned back to her. His look was that of a desperate man.
“Clay!” she said, her hand at her throat. “You almost frighten me.”
“Excuse me,” he said quickly. “I’ll leave you alone.” He left the room abruptly.
“Of all the rude, boorish—” Bianca began under her breath, then shrugged. She was glad to be rid of him. She looked around the room. It was too austere for her. She touched the white and blue bed hangings. Pink, she thought. She’d redo the bed in pink tulle with layers of ruffles. The walls would be papered in pink also, and maybe she’d have flowers painted on the paper. The walnut and maple furniture would have to go, of course. She’d replace it with some gilt furniture.
She undressed slowly and slung her dress across a chair back. The memory of Nicole’s apricot silk made her angry. Who was she to wear silk, when she, Bianca, had to make do with gauze and muslin? But just wait, she thought, she’d show these ignorant Colonists what real style was. She’d purchase a wardrobe that would make Nicole’s look cheap.
She slipped on a nightgown from the trunk that Roger had placed in the room and climbed into the bed. The mattress was a little too firm for her taste. She drifted asleep thinking of all the changes she would make in the plantation. The house was obviously too small. She’d add a wing, her own private wing where she wouldn’t have to be too near Clay when they were married. She’d buy a carriage. A carriage that would surpass the queen’s! The roof would be supported by gilded cherubs. She fell asleep smiling.
Clay quickly left the house to go to the garden. The moonlight glistened on the water in the tile pool. He lit a long cigar and stood quietly in the shadow of the hedges. Seeing Bianca had been like seeing a ghost. It was almost like having Beth back again. This time, though, nothing would take her away—not his brother, not death. She would be his for all eternity.
He dropped the cigar and crushed it under his foot. He strained his ears to hear the mill’s water wheel, but it was too far away. Nicole, he thought. Even now, when Bianca was so near him, he thought of Nicole. He remembered her smile, the way she had clung to him while she cried. Most of all, he remembered her love—for everyone. There wasn’t a person on the plantation to whom Nicole hadn’t extended her kindness. Even lazy, mean old Jonathan had said some good things about her.
Slowly, he turned to go back to the house.
Bianca woke slowly the next morning. The comfort of the bed and the good food were a luxury after her days aboard the ship. She had no problem remembering where she was or what she planned to do; she’d spent all night dreaming about it.
She threw the covers back and made a little face at them. It was really too much to ask her, as mistress of such an estate, to sleep under linen covers. The very least she could abide would be silk. She pulled a pink cotton dress from the trunk and thought it was disgusting that Clay should leave her without a maid.
Outside the room, she gave a quick look down the hallways, but she had no curiosity about the house. It was enough that it was hers. Now her main interest was the kitchen, which had been pointed out to her last night.
She cursed the distance from the house to the kitchen. From now on, she’d see that food was brought to her so she wouldn’t have to walk f