The Heiress

Critical Acclaim for the Marvelous Romances of … Jude Deveraux

REMEMBRANCE

“Brilliant…. unforgettable…. as romantic as
A Knight in Shining Armor
…. Ms. Deveraux brings this unusual romance to life, demonstrating that she is a superb craftsman and a mesmerizing story-teller….”

—Kathe Robin,
Romantic Times

“One of the world's top romance novelists has out-done herself…. This is a book that Deveraux fans who loved
A Knight in Shining Armor
have anxiously awaited, and it certainly does not disappoint.”

—Cheryl Rosamond,
Lake Worth
(FL) Herald

“Jude Deveraux has the knack for never letting up on the tension in the storyline….
REMEMBRANCE
is filled with great plot twists…. amazing.”

—Druann Domangue,
Lafayette
(LA) Advertiser

A KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR

“A glorious love story that spans centuries, worlds, and souls. It is the epitome of every woman's fantasy, a knight in shining armor who comes to the modern-day rescue of a distressed damsel…. The very special hero and heroine are enchanting and extraordinary.”

—
Chicago Daily Herald

“The ultimate romance reader's fantasy …
A Knight in Shining Armor
will capture your heart, make you laugh, cry, and wish this could come true.”

—
Romantic Times

SWEET LIAR

“A true thumbs-up.”

—
Los Angeles Daily News

“A compelling mystery, a stunning love story…. funny, thrilling, warm, and loving….
Sweet Liar
is a contemporary novel that only Jude Deveraux could write and one her fans will devour.”

—
Romantic Times

“Another sexy winner….”

—
Copley News Service

ETERNITY

“Get ready to be completely enchanted…. Warm and loving, funny and tender … an updated fairytale that will lift your heart.”

—
Romantic Times

“Engaging characters, hilarious dialogue, colorful historical backdrop…. Deveraux's tales are tender, funny, warm, and endearing….”

—
Baton Rouge Advocate

MOUNTAIN LAUREL

“Tenderness, humor, passion, poignancy, and memorable romance….
Mountain Laurel
is a delight.”

—
Romantic Times

“Deveraux fans … will welcome yet another pair of feisty, independent souls whose conversation crackles with electricity.”

—
Houston Chronicle

THE TAMING

“Vintage Deveraux—a fast-moving, psychologically acute rendition of the battle of the sexes set in a richly textured historical landscape…. Deveraux's mastery of every trick of narrative art creates depth and resonance….”

—
Publishers Weekly

“Delightful …
The Taming
is a winning combination … a very funny, engaging, fast-paced read that's sure to please.”

—
Rave Reviews

THE AWAKENING

“A tender, hilarious, intense love story…. Everything Jude Deveraux readers expect from her passionate pen…. This is a keeper.”

—
Romantic Times

WISHES

“In
Wishes,
one of Jude Deveraux's most enchanting stories, she blends a pinch of magic, a dash of Cinderella fantasy, and spoonfuls of fun into a stunning romance.”

—
Rave Reviews

“Jude Deveraux always spins a gripping tale…. Plenty of passion—and the plot never slackens.”

—
Booklist

Books by Jude Deveraux

The Velvet Promise

Highland Velvet

Velvet Song

Velvet Angel

Sweetbriar

Counterfeit Lady

Lost Lady

River Lady

Twin of Fire

Twin of Ice

The Temptress

The Raider

The Princess

The Awakening

The Maiden

The Taming

The Conquest

A Knight in Shining Armor

Wishes

Mountain Laurel

The Duchess

Eternity

Sweet Liar

The Invitation

Remembrance

The Heiress

Legend

Published by POCKET BOOKS

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

An
Original
Publication of POCKET BOOKS

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Copyright © 1995 by Deveraux, Inc.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

ISBN: 0-7434-1739-9
eISBN: 978-0-743-41739-6

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The Heiress

England
1572

T
he Maidenhall heiress!”

Joby could hardly contain herself as she looked at her brother Jamie and her older sister, Berengaria, sitting so close to each other at the high table. She was no longer dazzled by the beauty of the two of them as she had been when she was small. Her father used to lift her high above his head and promise her that she was going to grow up to be as beautiful as her sister, Berengaria.

But he'd not told the truth. Not about that or, as it turned out, about a great many things. He'd not told the truth when he said they'd always have enough to eat and always have a warm, comfortable place to live. He'd not told the truth when he'd sworn that her mother would soon stop talking to her spirit people.

But most of all he'd lied about living forever.

Joby tossed her head of dark curls and looked up at her brother with stars in her eyes. Her hair had been shorn after she'd beaten some of the boys at sword play, and in retaliation, they had slathered her head with warm honey and pine pitch. Now her hair was growing back into glossy curls, and she found that she did indeed have one quite beautiful feature.

“The Maidenhall heiress,” she repeated. “Oh, Jamie, just think of all that lovely money. Do you think she bathes in a gold tub? Does she wear emeralds to bed?”

“Nothing else is in her bed,” Rhys, Jamie's man, said under his breath. “That father of hers keeps her as locked up as his gold.”

Rhys gave a soft grunt as Thomas, Jamie's only other retainer, kicked him under the table.

Joby well knew the kick was to silence Rhys because they thought that at twelve years old she knew nothing about anything, and they wanted to keep it that way. Joby wasn't about to tell them what she knew or did not know, because in her opinion, there were already too many restrictions placed on her freedom. If any of the many adults in her life found out just exactly how much she did know, they'd start trying to find out where she had been to learn what she wasn't supposed to know.

Jamie's eyes were twinkling. “Perhaps not emeralds. But maybe she wears a silk nightgown.”

“Silk,” Joby said dreamily, her head propped on her hand. “Italian silk or French?”

At that everyone at the table laughed, and Joby knew she had an audience. She might not win attention for her looks, but she knew that she could make people laugh.

Maybe their branch of the Montgomery family couldn't afford jesters and other entertainers for dinner, or even much dinner for that matter, but Joby did what she could to enliven their otherwise dreary existence.

With one great leap she sprang to the top of the table, then bounded over it to the cold stone floor of the old castle.

With a bit of a frown, Jamie looked across the room at his mother, sitting so quietly, eating so little that no one could figure how she survived, but Joby's mannerless enthusiasm did not penetrate their mother's eternal dream world. She was vaguely looking in her youngest daughter's direction, but Jamie had no idea if she could see her or not. Or if she did, whether or not she remembered who she was. Their mother was as likely to call Joby Edward or Berengaria or, sometimes, Joby's real name of Margaret.

Jamie looked back at his young sister, as always dressed as a knight's page in tights and jerkin. For the thousandth time he told himself he had to force her to start dressing as a girl, but even as he thought it, he knew he hadn't the heart. Time enough for her to grow up and face the harshness of life. Let her be a child as long as possible.

“And how do you think she dresses each day?” Joby was saying as she stood before them. There were only five people at the table and a few servants—all that were left to them—beginning to straggle in from the kitchens, but Joby liked to imagine there were hundreds and she was on the stage before the queen.

Joby mimicked a woman awakening in the morning, stretching and yawning. “Bring me my gold chamber pot,” she commanded imperiously and was rewarded with a laugh
from her sister. If what she did made Berengaria laugh, then Jamie would allow her to continue.

Joby began making rather vulgar movements of a woman lifting her nightgown and settling herself onto a chamberpot. “Oh, my, but these emeralds do give me the most delicious pain,” she said, wiggling about.

Jamie, who was whispering to Berengaria, raised one black eyebrow at Joby, letting her know she was not to go too far.

Joby straightened. “Here, bring me my dress. No! No! Not that one. Nor that one or that one or that one or that one. No, no, you fool. How many times have I told you that I have worn that gown before? I want
new
clothes. Always new clothes. What? This is a new gown? How do you expect the Maidenhall heiress to wear such as that? Why that silk is so thin it would … Why it would
bend
if I were to wear it.”

At that Rhys began to laugh, and even Thomas, who rarely laughed, crooked one corner of his mouth up. They'd seen women at court who wore gowns so stiff they might as well have been carved of wood.