Defiant Impostor (32 page)

Shivering at the cold finality in his voice, Susanna
slumped against the seat in angry resignation as the carriage rounded the corner
that took them out onto the main road. She trained her gaze out the window.

Bloody hell! Here she was on her way to be married in a
common tavern by a drunken parson to a hateful, lying excuse of a man who would
surely make her days a torment for the rest of her life! The fact that she
would still be able to honor at least part of Camille's last wish brought her
little comfort. What had she done to bring this misery upon herself?

Susanna glanced back at Adam, and was not surprised to
find him still glaring at her. "Would you mind telling me how I gave
myself away?" she inquired sullenly.

"Purely by accident," he said with little
emotion, belying the animosity in his gaze. "Ertha found the painting you
hid in the hatbox when she went to put your purchases away on Monday afternoon.
That was what she didn't want you to see when she came to the library."

"So it was the portrait," she said almost to
herself, cursing the sentiment that had prevented her from tossing it overboard
when she had had the chance.

"No, not the portrait itself, although Ertha
suggested there might be some deception afoot. Poor woman. I didn't believe
her. I told her that an incompetent artist must have painted it to have so
misrepresented your features."

Surprised to hear that he had given her the benefit of
the doubt, she asked, "What was it, then?"

"Something Ertha wouldn't have noticed because she
never learned to read. Your signature."

Susanna stared at him blankly.

"Your signature on the note was not the same as
the one I found on the back of the painting. Didn't you know that Camille had
written an inscription there to her father?"

"No . . . no, I never looked at the back."

"A foolish oversight. That evidence combined with
what Polly Blake told me at the Tates'—"

"Polly Blake?"

"Yes, another waiting-maid who was aboard the
Charming Nancy
."

"You mean that dark-haired girl you were speaking
with near the refreshment table?"

"Then you noticed."

"I chanced to look over once or twice," she
allowed with feigned nonchalance, recalling how she had jealously wondered what
they were discussing. "But I didn't recognize her from the voyage."

"She didn't recognize you, either, at least not
who you really were. All she remembered about you and Camille was that you both
had the same honey-blonde hair. I knew then that you were an impostor."

"Yes, I suppose you did." Susanna abruptly
fell silent. It seemed she had no one to blame but herself for this wretched
turn of events.

"You were right about Celeste. She was the one who
told me about your betrothal plans. I believe we both have her to thank for
this day's unexpected outcome."

Oh, she knew friggin' well why Adam was grateful,
Susanna thought heatedly. Briarwood would soon belong to him. But how could she
possibly be obliged to that loose-lipped gossip for the mess her life had
suddenly become?

"Cheer up, Susanna. At least you'll be able to
live in lavish comfort for the rest of your life. Things could be worse."

Nothing could be worse, she thought resentfully as the
fields and woods gradually gave way to the neat white houses of Williamsburg.
She refused to waste even a glance on him, watching with dread for the painted
sign announcing the Market Square Tavern.

The irony was not lost on her that she would be
marrying Adam Thornton after all, the man Camille had dreamed would be a
perfect match for her. Except that now the hired man and the waiting-maid were
about to play the biggest roles of their lives.

Loving husband and wife.

And nothing could be further from the truth.

Chapter 18

"Well, my darling wife, it looks like we have
visitors. I hope you have sharpened your story-telling skills. You're going to
need them."

Susanna said nothing, avoiding Adam's eyes as his hands
encircled her waist and he lifted her easily from the carriage. She glanced
with growing apprehension at the dusty black coach also parked in the drive
which bore Dominick's family crest, then at the front door, which suddenly
opened. Her breath snagging painfully, she was immensely relieved to see it was
only Ertha hurrying from the house, followed by Corliss and a half dozen other
servants who all appeared equally distressed.

"Oh, Miss Camille, Mr. Thornton! We were wondering
when you would get here!" the housekeeper cried, out of breath when she
reached them. "Mr. Dominick Spencer arrived over an hour ago, along with
Miss Grymes and her brother. They're waiting in the drawing room. They brought
us the strangest news . . . they said Briarwood was struck by a fire, but there
hasn't been any fire . . . at least not on the main grounds. Has something
terrible happened in the outlying fields—"

"Calm yourself, Ertha, nothing terrible has
happened," Adam broke in, taking Susanna's arm possessively. She started
at his touch, but forced a shaky smile to her lips as he abruptly announced,
"We've wonderful news for you. Camille became my bride earlier this
afternoon."

As every mouth in the agitated group fell open, stunned
faces turning toward her, Susanna somehow managed to say, "Yes, it's true.
Adam and I were married today in Williamsburg. I know this comes as a complete
surprise to all of you, but we're very happy and hope you will be, too."
Glancing at Adam to find him staring at her, an unfathomable emotion in his
gaze, she felt a dizzying warmth flood her body and she quickly turned back to
Ertha. "I take it you provided refreshments for our guests?"

"Yes . . . Yes, I did, Miss Camille," the
housekeeper murmured, appearing more in shock than the others. Corliss,
however, was beaming broadly.

"No, Ertha, you mean Mistress Thornton now,"
the maid corrected, unmistakable relief in her dark eyes, which skipped to
Adam. "And Master Thornton."

Susanna almost winced at the sound of her new name.
Doing her best to maintain her flagging composure, she requested softly,
"Please, Ertha, Corliss, the rest of you, if you must call me 'Mistress,'
then use my first name. The other sounds so formal, and I'm sure Adam won't
mind . . ."

"Not at all, my love," he said, bending his
head to press a light kiss on her flushed cheek. "Anything to please
you."

At first startled that he would act with such
familiarity in front of the servants, Susanna had to remind herself that as her
husband, Adam now had a right to do that and much more. Touch her, embrace her,
share her bed . . . oh, she didn't want to think about it!

Perhaps it was enough for him that he was the master of
Briarwood now, with the entire Cary fortune at his disposal. She doubted he
wanted anything more from her anyway. He despised her. He was just mocking her
with his blatant show of affection. Of course he wouldn't want to—

"We should greet our guests, don't you
think?" he asked her, his warm breath tickling her ear. "I'm sure
they will be pleased to hear there was no fire."

"Y-yes, we should greet them," she murmured,
her legs wooden as they moved to the door, the silent servants parting for them
on both sides of the walkway.

Candles had already been lit in the main hall, for the
day had grown cloudy and dark with a thunderstorm brewing. Susanna found the
cooler air in the house soothing after the heavy, humid air outside, and much
easier to breathe. Now if only her heart would stop pounding so furiously . . .

"The drawing room, Ertha?" Adam asked, still
tightly holding Susanna's arm, as if he feared she might flee up the stairs.
Coward! He would leave this mess entirely up to her to straighten out.

"Yes, Master Thornton," the wide-eyed
housekeeper replied, then she rounded in agitation on the other servants.
"Go on with you! Get back to your chores. You heard there was no fire, so
there's nothing to keep you here gawking. Just pass the word along that this is
a very happy day for Briarwood. Corliss, take some of the other maids with you
and see that Master Thornton's things are moved into Miss . . . Mistress
Camille's room, real quick now. Make sure everything looks nice, you
hear?"

Susanna wanted to tell Ertha that such a task wasn't
necessary, she and Adam wouldn't be sharing a bedroom, but she was distracted
as he steered her toward the closed drawing-room door.

"I'll go tell Prue to prepare you a special
wedding supper," the housekeeper added, appearing much calmer now that she
had resumed command.

"Thank you, Ertha," Adam said, his hand
reaching for the knob. "Have it brought up to our room, along with the
best wine in the cellar."

"What?" Susanna blurted just as the door was
abruptly opened from the inside and she came face-to-face with Celeste.

"I thought I heard your voices!" the young
woman exclaimed, her freckled cheeks pink-spotted with exasperation. She
stepped backward stiffly as they moved into the room. "Where have you two
been? We've been waiting here forever, worried sick about you, and to make
matters worse, your servants know absolutely nothing about any fire! Now we'd
like an explanation!"

Susanna jumped as the door was shut behind them, her
gaze flying to Dominick, who rose to greet her. He was dressed in the finest
clothes she had ever seen and an elaborate curled wig, his splendid attire
obviously chosen for the occasion of their betrothal; in fact, he would have
looked absolutely perfect except for the uncharacteristic sheen of perspiration
on his face. Irritation emanated from his every step, clinging to him like the
sweet imported cologne he wore.

"Are you all right, my dear?" he asked, his
ice-blue eyes growing colder as he noted Adam's hand beneath her elbow.
"I'm sure Miss Cary is quite capable of standing on her own without any
assistance from you, Mr. Thornton. Kindly release her."

"Now, why would I want to do that?" Susanna
heard Adam say calmly, although she felt the tension in his tightening grasp.
She sensed what he was about to reveal and wished impossibly that the floor
would open up and swallow her whole, leaving this entire tangled muddle behind
her.

"I beg your pardon?" Dominick asked, his
aristocratic features marked with dark confusion and barely repressed anger at
Adam's insolence. "Camille, I demand that you tell this . . . this hired
servant of yours—"

"Try husband, Spencer, and you'll be closer to the
truth," Adam stated bluntly, his arm winding around Susanna's waist in a
clear gesture of possession. She inhaled in surprise as he drew her close to
him, but her response was nothing to the horrified gasp that came from Celeste.
Momentarily speechless, the pretty redhead's face had become an unattractive
shade of pasty white.

"What do you mean, husband?" Dominick said
tightly, his narrowed gaze riveting on Susanna.

Say it! Just say it! she screamed to herself, quickly
deciding it was best just to blurt out the news. The strained tension in the
room was enough to blow out the windows.

"Adam and I were married today," she heard
herself say, her voice sounding strangely like someone else's.

"Married?" cried Celeste, while Matthew, his
reddened face making a stark contrast to his sister's unwholesome pallor,
simply gaped.

"Married?" Dominick rasped, his voice
incredulous.

"Yes, in Williamsburg. I—I'm so terribly sorry you
had to hear it this way," Susanna sought to explain, more to Dominick than
anyone else, "but it came as a total surprise to me as well. I . . . I
didn't know Adam held such strong feelings for me, although I had hoped all
along that he did—why, ever since I first saw him at the Yorktown docks. And
when he heard a rumor from Celeste that Dominick and I were going to announce
our betrothal, it finally spurred him to action. He couldn't bear the thought
of my marrying another man."

"This can't be true. It can't be," Celeste
repeated in disbelief while Susanna, ignoring her, plunged on with her hastily
conceived story, despite the silent planter's look of pure fury.

"I'm really very sorry if I've hurt you, Dominick.
I never meant to insult or mislead you. That's why I'm so glad you were late
today to the races and we didn't announce our engagement. I would never have
been able to forgive myself if I had publicly humiliated you. It's just when
Adam spirited me from the Tates', saying that there was a fire at Briarwood,
and then proposed to me in the Grymes's carriage, I couldn't refuse him. I was
so happy to discover that he loved me, the last thing I wanted to do was wait
three weeks while the banns were published at Bruton's Parish. We were married
in a tavern . . . what was it called, Adam darling?"

"Market Square."

Infuriated by the restrained amusement in his voice
while she was quaking in her high-heeled shoes, Susanna nonetheless did her
best to continue her impersonation of a giddy bride.

"Yes, that was it! The Market Square Tavern. A
delightful old parson who resides there was only too happy to marry us."
She held out her trembling left hand to display the thin strip of metal wrapped
around her finger. "See? Adam had to improvise and use a bed-curtain ring
until we have time to buy a proper wedding band. It was clever of him, don't
you think?"

She wasn't surprised when her inane comment was greeted
with dead silence.

"Oh, dear, here I am chattering on about my
happiness while I can imagine what a shock this must be to you. How terribly
insensitive of me." She turned to Celeste and Matthew. "I hope you
can both forgive me and that we can remain friends. We've had so much fun these
past few weeks that I'd hate to see—"

She didn't get to finish as Celeste burst into tears,
flung open the door, and rushed from the room. Mumbling an apology, Matthew ran
after her, while Dominick was obviously so angry he could find few words with
which to speak.