The Heiress by Jude Deveraux Page B

stopping point for his wagons of goods traveling across the country. Whenever a load of silks came from France or leather from Italy, Frances helped herself. Of course she told the steward to report that the fabric had been used for the heiress. As for Axia, she found that stiff silk impeded her climbing of ladders to pick apples. And paint did not wash out of satin. Truthfully, clothes had never been of much interest to Axia.
    â€œSaving it?” Axia asked, yawning. “And how many other gowns have you ‘saved’ for this journey? A queen’s wardrobe perhaps?” Both of them knew that Axia knew to a penny how much Frances spent or took.
    Frances looked at herself in the mirror on the little stand on the table under the window. “You should hear his plan,” she said, watching Axia in the mirror. “I am to be his wife.” To Frances’s
great
satisfaction, Axia sat bolt upright in bed.
    â€œHis what?”
    Turning, Frances gave her cousin a sweetly catty smile. “Oh, my, it is getting late. I must run. I am so glad you slept late, cousin, as you have given James and me time to become such good friends this morning.” With that, she slipped out the door.
    Axia looked about her for something to throw at the door and found only her shoes, which made an unsatisfyingly weak sound when they hit the door. However, Frances must have been listening because her laugh rang out loud and clear before she ran down the hall.
    Throwing back the covers, Axia thought,
His wife? Now what has Frances been up to? And how can anyone cause so much trouble in so little time?
    She dressed quickly, pulling her own laces together, gave a regretful glance toward the stand where her mother’s cap usually sat, then ran from the room. How her life had changed! First last night and now today! Today she was to start themost wonderful journey of her life. As she ran down the stairs, tying her hair into a tidy knot, she thought,
What will I see on this journey? Who will I meet? What food have I not tasted? What smells will be new to me? What sounds are to be heard?
    When she opened the door of the withdrawing chamber, she stopped short. He was there, standing so the sunlight hit the back of his head, playing on the dark curls of his hair, then running down his warm neck that she’d kissed so many times last night and onto his shoulders, so broad and strong. He was standing by a table, a map in his hands.
    At the sight—and memory—of his hands, Axia had to catch herself against the door jamb. Would he recognize her? Would his spirit know who she was?
    Blinking, she looked away from Jamie, bent so intently over the map, to see that both Tode and Frances were staring at her, Frances with a smirk on her face. Axia forced herself to remove the expression from her face. She wasn’t going to let anyone know what she was feeling.
    â€œGood morning,” she said lightly. Tode nodded at her silently, still looking at her in an odd way; Frances continued smirking, and Jamie looked up frowning.
    â€œYou sleep late, I see,” Jamie said flatly, as though he now had further proof of her worthlessness.
    From the way he glared at her, she knew that he did not recognize her from the night before. “Not usually,” she began, because he made her sound as though she were lazy. “Usually I—”
    â€œNo matter.” He cut her off, and looking back at the map, he continued as though she were of no consequence. “We will meet the wagons here and here—”
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Axia asked, leaning over the map as close to Jamie as possible. Tode had moved to stand on the other side of her.
    â€œLord James has the most marvelous plan,” Frances purred. “Oh, please, do tell her,” she pleaded prettily.
    Involuntarily, Axia smiled. Frances would do
anything
to get a man’s attention, pretend to be stupid, helpless, whatever. Axia had seen her ask