The Heiress (18 page)

Jamie, too angry to speak, too angry to give thought to exactly why he was angry, mounted his horse and rode beside the wagon until it reached the gates of Lachlan's house. And once inside, he was enveloped in the big, warm embrace of his
friend.

“Jamie, lad,” Lachlan Teversham said, his big arm around his younger friend's broad shoulders. Lachlan was a bear of a man, huge, with a mass of reddish-brown hair and great bushy eyebrows. As Jamie well knew, the man could be a terror on the battlefield, could strike fear in the hearts of men just by his presence.

But in spite of his size and sometimes fierce demeanor, Lachlan never seemed to frighten the women. As a woman once told Jamie, “Who could be afraid of a man with a mouth like that?”

“Is it you in there?” Lachlan asked, then used his big hand to try to clean a place on Jamie's face.

But Jamie was not in the mood to laugh. Angrily, he twisted away from Lachlan and went back to the wagons. “Secure them!” he shouted at the drivers. “And you, boy, take care of those horses. You'll regret it if I find they have been misused.”

Standing in the rain, looking like some Norse god of old, Lachlan stared at Jamie in wonder. He had known him since he was a boy and he'd never met a more charming person. Never had Lachlan seen young Jamie be rude.

Dismounting, Thomas wiped rain from his face, then nodded toward the painted wagon where Frances was being helped out. A huge waxed cloth was being spread above her in an attempt to keep her dry, but not before Lachlan saw her beautiful face. Looking at Thomas, he raised his eyes in question, as though to ask, Is
she
what's wrong with Jamie?

Thomas, who had known Lachlan for years, leaned over and said, “
Two
women.”

At that Lachlan put his head back and roared with laughter, for he understood that there was nothing wrong with his young friend except women. Lachlan would never have thought that Jamie, with a face like his, would ever have the least bit of trouble with women.

“Hell and damnation!” Jamie shouted as he looked inside the wagon and saw that Axia and her … her lover—he nearly spat at the thought—were gone.

“Where are they?” he shouted at a stable lad who was trying to get the horses out of the rain. Of course the boy did not know who Jamie was talking about and hastily got away from this enraged mud monster.

Jamie turned back to Lachlan. “Did you see them? A girl and a man, very short and—” How could he describe Tode?

He could see that Lachlan had no idea what his friend was talking about.

He would not want to be seen, Jamie suddenly thought and had an idea where Tode was, for Jamie knew Lachlan's place well.

“Take care of these,” he yelled to Rhys, motioning toward the wagons, then he grabbed a lantern out of a boy's hands and began racing toward the stables. If a person wanted to be hidden, that's where he'd go. He couldn't imagine Tode walking into Lachlan's well-lit Great Hall.

Running, lantern aloft, Jamie went from one stall to the other, looking inside each of them. He wasn't sure what he was going to do once he found the two of them, but he knew that she was his responsibility and he had every right to—

At the end of the stables was an old tack room, long used
for only storage, and just as Jamie was about to leave, he saw a faint glow of light from under the door.

Angry, he flung open the door, and to his horror and disbelief, he saw Axia
undressing
Tode!

His first impulse was to fling her across the room and possibly to use his sword on Tode. But then Axia turned a ravaged face toward him, a face not of a lover, but of one who is deeply afraid, afraid to the point of terror.

“Help me, help me,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Instantly, all Jamie's anger left him. Setting down his lantern, he stepped forward. “What can I do? I am yours.”

“His legs,” she managed to whisper as though the words were so disturbing she could not speak.

Lying on piles of straw and dirty horse blankets was Tode, his face turned to one side so that only his good side showed, and Jamie could see that he was pale to the point of death. “I will get someone to help so—”

“No!” Axia said as she grabbed his forearm with both of her hands. “Please,” she said, tears in her eyes. She was dripping wet, her dark hair plastered to her head, her dress sodden, and he knew she was cold, tired, and hungry, but she did not seem to be aware of it. “He is proud, and he does not like to be seen. Can you understand that?”

Jamie was sure that no one could understand pride better than he. “What do you want of me?”

Wasting no more time, Axia turned back to her friend. “He is in pain. Great pain. Help me get him warm and dry. Get his clothes off.”

“Yes,” Jamie said, then went to Tode and began to remove
his trousers, but they were wet and stuck to his skin so he took his dagger and sliced them off, exposing Tode's bare legs to the air and the light. Jamie had seen maimed men on the battlefield, and he thought he was hardened, but he had never seen anything like Tode's legs. They were like raw flesh, scars big and small, great ridges in the skin. And under the skin the bones seemed to have been broken and set at odd angles. How did he manage to walk at all? And if he did walk, how did he bear the pain of every step?

When Jamie looked up at Axia, he saw that she was holding a bottle of some dark liquid.

“Put some of this on your hands and rub it on his legs. Quickly!”

Even as she poured it into his hands, Jamie could feel the warmth of the oil. When he touched Tode's bare legs, they were as cold as death. Looking across at Axia, Jamie could see the terror on her face. “Give me that,” he commanded, taking the bottle from her. He knew a bit about being cold as he'd spent some time in the Highlands with his relatives there. A Scottish summer could be colder than an English winter.

His hands were larger and stronger than hers, and he used her warming liquid lavishly as he rubbed it into Tode's cold skin. “Go into the stables, find my horse and look in the carrying cases on the saddle. There are clothes in there; they should be dry. Get them. Do not hesitate! If anyone sees you, tell them they are for me. And bring the flask in the pouch on the side.”

With scarcely a nod, she ran out of the little stone room and into the stables where she quickly found Jamie's horse, his
saddle thrown across a wooden trestle against the wall. It took her only minutes to get the clothes, good English wool, from the bag, then the silver flask. Holding them a bit away from her so they would not get wet from her dress, she started to run back to the tack room, but the words of a groom, hidden from her by a stall wall, stopped her.

“I hear she is the Maidenhall heiress,” a man said quietly. “It is to be a secret, but everyone knows.”

“I'd like to get my hands on that. Imagine all that gold! Anything you ever wanted for the asking.”

“Shall you propose marriage?”

“Ha! I shall throw her over my saddle and charge her father to get her back.”

At that, Axia kept running, her feet silent across the straw-strewn floor. In the tack room again, she saw that Jamie had Tode's clothes off except for the linen loin cloth, and he was rubbing her liniment on his chest and arms.

“Did anyone see you?” he asked, and when she shook her head, he said, “Good. I do not want them being curious. We should have thought of this before.” He was thinking of the many times he'd tried to ride with Berengaria with him, but she always caused confusion, with children dancing about them and shouting, “Blind Girl! Blind Girl!” Jamie could not imagine what would happen if Tode walked down the middle of a village street.

“I am going to dress him,” Jamie said, “and I want you to get that into him.” He nodded toward the flask. “As much as he can hold.” When she looked in doubt at him, he said, “It's good single malt Scotch. McTarvit. The best. Now do as I
say!”

Axia gave the tiniest nod of obedience as she rolled up a horse blanket and put it under Tode's head, then slowly started forcing the whiskey between his lips. She knew from experience that he was conscious, but the pain in his legs made him wish he were not.

It was more difficult than Jamie had thought it would be to dress Tode's inert body. For all that his legs were frail, his upper body was that of a large and healthy young man, and he was heavy with muscle that he'd developed in compensation for his weak lower half. It seemed forever before Tode began to cough at the whiskey that Axia was judiciously forcing down him.

“No,” Tode managed to say, turning his head away. “Let me sleep.”

“Yes,” Axia said, sitting by his head, smoothing his hair back from his face. There seemed to be a tiny bit of color in his cheeks now. “Please sleep. I will be here with you. I will not leave you.” Reaching under the blanket that Jamie had spread over him, she took Tode's big hand in hers and held it to her wet bosom.

She had no idea how long she sat there, but when Jamie started to pull her away, she fought him.

Clutching her chin in his hand, he turned her face to look at him. “I am heartily sick of being regarded as your enemy. You are wet and cold and—”

“I will not leave him,” she said fiercely, jerking away from him. “It is because of you that he is like this.”

For a moment Jamie stood back, running his
hands over his eyes, and with every movement he made, half-dried mud flaked away. How well he had learned not to argue with her. He could force her into the house, into dry clothes, but he had no doubt that unless he tied her inside his friend's house, she would find a way out.

Without saying a word, he removed a thick horse blanket from a hook on the wall, then wrapped it around her body. When she was encased, he picked her up, wrapping his arms tightly about her. “Quiet or you'll wake him,” he said into her ear when she began to struggle.

“Unhand me,” she said, but Jamie held on.

Sitting on the straw-covered floor, leaning back against the cold stone wall, he pulled her onto his lap, her back against his front. When she continued struggling, he said low into her ear, “Please do not hurt me more. My body is a mass of bruises and cuts from my days with you. I begin to bleed at the sight of you.”

If he'd said anything else, she could have retained her anger, could have fought him, but humor took all the rage out of her. To her great embarrassment, she dropped her head against his strong body and began to cry.

Jamie cuddled her on his lap as though she were an infant, wrapped in the thick blanket, her head against his neck, and her tears further wetted him.

She did not cry for long. “I am sorry,” she whispered. “I never cry. No one can make me cry.”

“Except me. Yes, I always have that effect on women.”

“You are a liar,” she said, sniffing. “I doubt if you have ever made a woman cry.”

He had no intention of replying to that remark, but he was sure that he'd never enjoyed holding a woman as much as he was enjoying holding her, for all that she was a shapeless lump in a smelly blanket. “Tell me about Tode,” he said softly. “Why is he like this?”

Axia felt that she was warm for the first time in days as the rain had not stopped long enough for them to have a fire. Frances had begged to stop at an inn, but Jamie had said it was too “dangerous.” Since people did not know who they were, how was it dangerous? However, the idea of danger made Axia think she should remember something important, but at the moment she couldn't think what it was.

Curled in his arms, she felt so warm and safe. Her forehead was snuggled into his neck, and when something scratched her, she drew back and pulled a big chunk of half-dried mud from his face. Unfortunately it took away a bit of his hair with it.

“Ow!” he said, and when he looked at her in accusation, as though to say, You are hurting me again, she smiled and put her head back down.

“Did you know that mud is very good for the skin?” she said. “I have been experimenting with mud mixed with the green from the pond and—”

“Mud and slime?”

“Mmmm. Very fine mud, very fine slime. When the mixture is allowed to dry on the skin, there is much improvement.”

She was sounding so scientific that he replied in the same tone. “Yes, Frances has nearly perfect skin.”

“Ha! Frances is a coward. She never allows me to try anything
on her. But Tode—” She looked anxiously toward him, sleeping on the makeshift bed.

“Tell me of him,” he whispered, sensing that she didn't want to.

She started to move off his lap. “You must be cold. Let me fetch you another blanket from the stables. Or, better yet, you can return to the house. You must be hungry, and your soldier friend will be looking for you.” It was difficult to move since her arms were cocooned inside the blanket, but when she moved, he pulled her back, his arms tight about her.

“For once you are not going to have your way. I know you plan to stay here with him, but I mean to stay with you. Do you understand me? For once I am going to win.”

“Do you not
always
win? You have had your way about everything.”

“Oh? I did not think it was necessary for you to come on this trip. I wanted that horrid wagon to be painted over. I—”

“You wanted to marry the Maidenhall heiress.”

“I do not think
want
is the correct word. I have a family to support, and I cannot marry whom I please. Perhaps you do not know that men of my—of my rank, we are not free. Were we free to marry whom we wish, we might marry the chambermaid.”

“Or pockmarked girls?”

“Yes,” Jamie said in a way that let her know that this was a subject he was not going to talk about. “Now, tell me about Tode. We have all night, and you
are
going to tell me.”

Axia took a deep breath. “His father did this to him.”