Read Defiant Impostor for Free Online Page B

planter, and was saved from making a reply by the dull thud of footsteps
descending the gangplank. As everyone turned expectantly, Adam could tell at
once from the relieved expression upon the physician's lean, craggy face that
the news was good.
    "Well, can the ship be unloaded or not?" one of
the merchants demanded. "I've a full year's income of goods in that
hold!"
    "Yes," the physician replied, then added
pointedly, as if to reprimand the man for his mercenary concerns, "and the
passengers and crew may also disembark. I see no signs of the fever among them,
thank God."
    Adam had to restrain himself from brushing past the
physician and bounding up the gangplank to meet the young woman who would
become his wife. Yet he didn't want to startle her; James had told him she was
painfully shy. He planned to court her gently, albeit swiftly.
    He had always had a way with women; it was not conceit
to think so, just a fact. He had a gift for sensing what a woman wanted, and he
had warmed his bed with lonely, neglected wives seeking discreet diversion, and
with willing waiting-maids desiring a night's pleasure. He already knew that
Camille shunned social events, preferring a quiet, sheltered life. He planned
to offer her the same, along with his protection. By promising her the serenity
she wanted, and backed by her late father's approval, he was certain that in no
time he would easily win her hand in marriage.
    If she was the romantic sort, his wooing of her would
be even easier. A few kisses and well-chosen words would only hasten her into
his arms. He would do anything, even tell her that he loved her, to ensure his
success. Admittedly, such a measure would be despicable—he had never before
intentionally misled a woman's affections—but he had worked too damn long and
hard to leave anything to chance.
    "Mr. Thornton."
    Hearing the familiar deep baritone voice, Adam turned
to find a strapping black man standing just off to one side.
    "Good, Elias, you've returned with the
carriage."
    "Yes, sir, it's right over there," Elias
said, nodding to the glistening black coach near Adam's tethered horse. As the
slave glanced with anxious dark eyes at the ship, he twisted his tricorn hat in
his huge hands. "Any word about Miss Cary?"
    "She's aboard and well, as far as I know, but I
haven't seen her yet," Adam replied. He stepped back as some passengers
began walking down the gangplank, their trunks and other goods being hoisted to
the dock by the remaining crew.
    "That's good news, Mr. Thornton! Good news!"
Elias exclaimed, a grin cutting across his face. "I'll go wait by the carriage.
Just give a nod when you want me to load the trunks."
    "Thank you, Elias." As the big man strode
away, his broad back proud and straight, Adam ignored the disapproving looks of
his neighboring planters. He had heard it all before. Familiarity with your
inferiors will only breed contempt and disrespect. But that had not been James
Cary's creed, nor was it his.
    It was well-known throughout the Tidewater that Cary
slaves were treated humanely; many of them had earned their freedom and
remained by choice as paid workers at Briarwood. As for himself, Adam had
served long enough under the whip to know that cruelty and mistreatment were
the surest ways to inspire hatred. None of the overseers at Briarwood owned
whips. He could not stomach the sight of them.
    Adam watched intently as more passengers filed off the
ship, their sickly pallor and uncertain gait suggesting they had narrowly
escaped the fever's dread clutches. Yet everyone seemed happy to be setting
foot upon dry land once more, especially that pretty, dark-haired lady's maid
who had eyed him so lustily a short while ago. As the giggling wench followed a
stout matron down the gangplank and onto the dock, her slim arms laden with
floral-papered hatboxes, she passed by Adam and tripped. The next thing he knew
she was in his arms, hatboxes tumbling to his feet.
    "Oh, thank ye, sir, what a fine,