By Jude Deveraux
Nicole was once a passionate French good looks, abducted by means of mistake and swept accross turbulent seas...to be the bride of a stranger. In eighteenth-century Virginia, the plush lands embraced the rivers that bounded the nice plantations. There Clayton awaited his English lady...but while he showered his bride with ardent kisses, the girl he present in his fingers was once Nicole Courtalain!
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Extra resources for Counterfeit Lady
Janie was yelling as she trudged up the hill. The large, pink-cheeked woman was a joy to see, and they hugged as if they hadn't seen each other every day since they had left the ship. " "No," Nicole said. " Nicole wanted to change the subject. "Clay stopped by the loom house and said you were moving over here, that you were going to run the mill. He said to pick out two good men, take all the tools we needed and help you. " Nicole looked away. Clay's generosity was almost too much. "Come on, you two," Janie yelled.
I am more than a case of mistaken identity. I am more than the fact that I am not `your' Bianca. You say you propose marriage to me, but look at what you offer. Now I am mistress of the plantation, called Mrs. Armstrong by everyone. But my whole future hangs by a thread. If Bianca accepts you, then I'm to be cast aside. If she refuses you, then you will make do with second choice. No! Not even second choice. I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. " She took a deep breath. " She was so angry she couldn't speak.
Nicole took a deep breath. If she stayed here with him, she'd spend every night with him, until he finally got the woman he loved. " He reacted immediately to her cool tone. His back stiffened. The lazy, seductive look left his face. " His tone matched hers. "I can't stay here," she said flatly, trying not to let him see her pain. "Blanca—” It hurt her even to say the name. "Blanca will surely come to America soon. " "There's nowhere for you to go. " It was a command. " she flared. "You're my wife!