The Heiress (32 page)

At that Jamie let out a laugh, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I have no doubt that you will, my little wife. I fully expect that this time next year you will have found some way to make the place worth three times what it is now.”

“Ah, then, that should earn me at least a copper,” she muttered, making Jamie laugh again.

“My sisters will love you,” he said.

“And what of your mother?”

“She, ah, I meant to tell you about her. She is, ah, well …” But Jamie didn't have to find the words to tell Axia that his mother had the mentality of a child and that with each day her mind was slipping further away because just then an arrow came zinging through the air. Landing a yard from Jamie's feet, it made his horse rear. Even as his horse's feet were high off the ground, he saw that Axia's was frightened, so in one motion, he leaned over and grabbed her bridle, bringing both horses under control at the same time. Then, as he looked at her face, he grinned. “Will that earn more drawings of me?”

“Oh yes, Jamie, yes,” she said breathlessly.

Laughing, he dismounted and pulled the arrow out of the ground, unwrapping the message that was tied to it. As he suspected, it was from Oliver and what was written made him frown, but he would not tell Axia what the note said.

“He has not hurt Frances, has he?” she said in fear as he helped her dismount.

“No, but—” He cut off, still frowning, refusing to say more. “I must go. Now. I am sorry, but you must go to my sisters without me. I will come later.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, wanting to feel brave and adult, but the thought of meeting his sisters alone terrified her.

“Come, do not look so frightened. They will love you. I will return in a few hours.”

“I will go with you and—”

“No!” he said sharply.

“There
is
danger! Something is wrong and you are not telling
me.”

“No, there has been no harm done,” he reassured her, “but I must go now.”

“All right,” she said at last, then went to her saddle bag, removed a leather pouch, and handed it to him. “Inside are some herbal mixtures for Frances, and you must see that she has them. She has never been able to take care of herself, you know. One mixture is for colds, and one is to be soaked in hot water for a chest plaster if she coughs. The third is a drink she likes if she cannot sleep, and the fourth—”

Smiling, Jamie kissed her, then took the pouch. “I will see to her health, and I will bring her back safely to you. Now go inside and keep safe for my return.” With a glance up at the windows and another at the people who were on the road around them, Jamie did not want to show a public display of affection, but when he weighed kissing Axia against the public, there was no contest.

Quickly, fiercely, he pulled Axia into his arms and kissed her hard and long, and when he pulled away, he had to support her for a moment until her legs steadied. “Wait for me,” he said, and all she could do was nod. Then he mounted his horse, turned, and went at a gallop down the road, a cloud of dust behind him.

Standing in the road, Axia watched him until there was a sharp bend, then the trees closed around him and she could no longer see him. As soon as she was alone, she knew that for him to leave her alone in a strange place, the message on the arrow must have been very serious. Much more serious than he would allow her to see.

Turning, she looked back at the castle. When she'd been with Jamie, it had seemed a friendly enough place, but now the clouds had blocked the sun and a cold wind had risen. Goose bumps formed on her arms, and looking up at the sky, she thought a storm might be brewing. And as she looked back at the ramshackle old castle, she thought she could feel that another storm might be brewing inside. Maybe she was just being superstitious, but she thought she could feel animosity coming from the inside. Jamie's family wouldn't hate her, would they? No, of course not, she told herself. They couldn't. They had no reason to hate her. No reason at all.

J
oby,” Berengaria whispered, “we have done a great wrong.”

“Do not start on me again,” Joby said with barely controlled anger. “I do not like her; I do not trust her.”

“You have made that abundantly clear to everyone.”

Joby wasn't going to allow Berengaria's soft heart to sway her. She had known what this Axia was like before she ever met her, and in the ten days she had been here, nothing Joby had seen since was going to change her mind. “How can you see the way she has tried to take over this place and still have sympathy for her?”

“Oh, Joby, what has made you so hard? Do you not think this falling down heap of stones could use some management? All she did was roll up her sleeves and try to clean the kitchens.”

“It is a matter of rule and power. Surely you must be able to see that.”

“As opposed to not being able to see anything else, is that what you mean?”

“Now she has
us
fighting.”

“No,
she
has not made us fight,
you
have. Oh, Joby, all of this started with that stupid Henry Oliver. Why ever did I allow you to bring him into this?”

“Someone had to do something. I couldn't very well allow our idiot of a brother to …” She trailed off because just what she hoped would not happen had. They had thought to get Oliver to “kidnap” the Maidenhall heiress, and Jamie would follow her, rescue her, and fall in love with her. But Oliver had, as always, done everything wrong. Instead of sending the note Joby had written for him, he came up with his own and had, by accident, sent it flying into poor Rhys's leg. With Oliver's poor eyesight, he had meant to hit the ground in front of Rhys. “Only Henry Oliver is such a bad marksman that he'd miss the
ground,”
Joby had said in disgust when she'd heard about Rhys.

But everything had backfired because for some inexplicable reason, their brother had taken this Axia with him when he went to chase the heiress, and along the way, he had married her. And now stupid Oliver was saying that he would not release the heiress unless Berengaria married him. So Jamie had been there for days trying to talk some sense into Oliver, and Jamie's new wife was here with Joby and Berengaria, doing her best to change everything in their lives.

But yesterday Joby had stopped her, for she had told this
Axia how her entrapment of their brother had destroyed their family. Joby told her about the villagers giving up their last pennies, their tiny treasures, to make a wardrobe that would gain the love and admiration of the heiress.

“And he would have married her if it weren't for your interference,” Joby had said nastily. “So now we have lost all our chances for any wealth. Do you think being called
Lady
Axia will keep you warm and fed this winter?”

In the face of such venom, Axia had backed away from her, whispering, “I am sorry. Please forgive me.” Then she'd turned and fled up the stairs to Jamie's room and closed the door.

Since then she had not shown her face, not even for meals. As far as anyone knew, she had not left her room.

Now Berengaria and Joby were alone in the solar on the second floor, and Berengaria was full of remorse about everything she had allowed Joby to do. They had been in agreement about Axia, that from what they had read in Jamie's letters, this woman was a conniving schemer, but since Axia had arrived, Berengaria had begun to feel differently.

“If I could just see them together,” Berengaria said, and they both knew that she meant that if she could be in the presence of Jamie with his new wife, she would know if Jamie really loved her or not. But Joby was convinced that her gorgeous brother could not be head over heels in love with a plain little thing like Axia. Truthfully, Axia was more like a housekeeper than an earl's wife, what with her sorting out the kitchens and going through the flour bins. She was certainly not of the same class as their beautiful brother.

“It is done,” Berengaria said, “and we cannot change the
fact that Jamie has married her.”

“But I want her to see what her conniving and scheming have cost us. She may think she can earn her place here by sorting the beans, but because of her, there will soon be no beans to sort.”

“What was that?” Berengaria said, her head tilted to one side, listening to the sounds coming from outside.

“I hear nothing.”

“No, listen, there it is again.”

Going to the window, Joby looked down into the garden below, and her temper soared as she saw the woman who had wrecked all their plans sitting on a stone bench beside their mother. Their poor, crazy mother.

“There!” Berengaria said. “What was that?”

It took Joby a moment to believe what she was seeing. “That Axia is writing something and showing it to Mother and she is … Mother is laughing,” she said in disbelief.

“I am going down!” Berengaria said, standing and heading for the door. She was quite familiar with her home and knew the way perfectly.

“Do not let her sway you. Just because she—”

“Close your mouth!” Berengaria snapped as she went out the door, Joby close on her heels.

In the garden they stopped behind a rose trellis where Berengaria knew they wouldn't be seen. “What is she writing? Why did Mother laugh?”

“Wait a minute,” Joby said as she ran back into the castle. A moment later a child from the kitchens came out and asked Axia to return with him. As soon as Axia was out of sight, Joby
picked up the pages that Axia had tossed onto the bench. As usual, their mother ignored them. She lived in a world all her own, and no one could pierce it. Not violence, not emotional drama, nothing ever took her from her own world. At least not usually. Not until today.

“What are they?” Berengaria said anxiously.

It took Joby a moment as she looked at the drawings one by one. “They are all pictures of Jamie,” she said in a voice of wonder, for she had never seen anything like the drawings. They were so lifelike that she could almost feel the warmth of her brother's skin.

“Yes,” Berengaria said impatiently, “but what about them made Mother laugh?”

As Joby looked from one drawing to the other, she could not repress a smile, then she began to describe them to her sister. “They are Jamie as we know him,” she said. “In this one he is drawing his sword on some villagers as he “rescues” Axia from greedy-looking merchants. And in this one …” She trailed off, smiling.

“Yes! What is it?”

“Jamie is furious as he is looking up at a wagon, and on the side of the wagon is a picture of himself. And he seems to be fighting a lion. In this one Jamie is looking perplexed as two women quarrel with each other. One of the women is Axia, but the other is quite beautiful.”

“That must be the heiress,” Berengaria said. “What else?”

“Here is Jamie rubbing oil on the deformed legs of a man, but only his legs are deformed, as the rest of him is large and well shaped. His face is turned to one side so I can only see
half of it, but he looks to be quite handsome. And this one is—”

“Is what?” Berengaria encouraged.

Joby lowered her voice. “It is Jamie lying in a field of flowers, daydreaming, and there is a look of … I have never seen him look like this.”

“Describe it to me!” Berengaria commanded.

“He looks silly, ridiculous actually,” she said, but she did not really mean it, for she well knew that it was the look of a man in love.

“Have you spied enough?” Axia asked from behind Joby. “Have you finished laughing at me?”

“I wasn't spying, I was merely …”

“Yes?” Axia asked, hands on her hips. When Joby said nothing, she started to gather up her drawings. “You have made it quite clear that you do not want me here, and I will go soon enough. You do not have to worry about that. Now, if you will excuse me, I'll leave you and—”

She broke off because Jamie's mother had put her hands over her face and begun to cry. Immediately, Axia sat down on the bench and put her arm about her mother-in-law's shoulders. “Now look what you have done,” she said to Joby, then turned and began to soothe the woman. “Here, I will draw more. Would you like to see Jamie as a dragonslayer?”

Joby and Berengaria were speechless as their mother quieted and grew calm again. They had not seen her cry or show any emotion for years.

As Axia began to draw, she described every stroke she was making as she drew Jamie with his clothes torn and ragged
from the exertion of his fight, then she made the dragon with its long tail and fiery breath. It took a moment for Joby to realize that Axia's drawing was for their mother, but the explanation was for Berengaria. And when Joby looked at her sister, she could see Berengaria's face was alive with interest. Joby didn't recognize the emotion for what it was, but jealousy surged through her. Berengaria was hers and hers alone!

“Berengaria can smell the dragon,” their mother said, and it was rare to hear her voice, at least in a coherent sentence.

Berengaria laughed. “Yes, I can smell it. It has iridescent green scales that change color in the sunlight. I can smell the char of its breath. And I can smell the sweat of Jamie. He is worried and afraid, but his honor will force him to do what he thinks is right. I can smell his bravery.”

Axia stopped drawing and looked at Berengaria. “Can you really smell things? Better than other people?”

Joby spoke before her sister could. “Berengaria is only blind, but she has her other senses intact, better than most people. She is not a freak.”

“Neither am I!” Axia shot back in a tone just as nasty.

At this exchange, Berengaria stood stone still in fascination. No one ever told Joby off! For all that Joby was kind and thoughtful to her family, to outsiders she was a terror, and people were afraid of her. But obviously this Axia was not. It was Berengaria's guess that Axia had done a bit of terrorizing herself.