The Heiress by Jude Deveraux Page A

ingratitude was barbed remarks and a pretense that she didn’t care. And, Tode thought with a smile, an occasional practical joke, such as painting an ugly woman on one of Frances’s mirrors or putting daisies under her pillow because daisies made Frances sneeze.
    Tode was suddenly brought back to the present when Axia turned a face full of wonder toward Tode. “I shall
be
Frances.”
    â€œAh yes, of course. We shall cover the walls of yourbedchamber with mirrors as hers is and remove all those dreary books you love so much. And of course your paints must go. And—” He broke off. “Pray tell, who will Frances be?” But as he said it, he knew. “No! Your father—”
    â€œWill not know, will not care. I will tell him I did it to protect his precious commodity. If the Maidenhall heiress is kidnapped, it will be worthless Frances, not I, who is taken captive. And I am sure she would soon enough tell her captors the truth. But this is of no concern as we will be under guard. There will be no danger.”
    â€œThis is because of that Montgomery, isn’t it? He put this idea into your head.”
    â€œHe can go to blazes for all I care. He has no honor, no sense of decency. He has no soul that he would lie and deceive so.”
    Tode well knew how Axia felt about men or women who wanted to be near her because of her father’s money. Once she’d said about Frances, “At least her friendship can’t be bought. I’ve tried.”
    Going to his chair, she put her hands on the armrests, her face near his. She was the only person in the world who did not turn away in revulsion at the sight of him, and when she put herself this close to him, a wave of love ran through him.
    â€œDo you not see?” she said. “It is my only chance. My
one
chance. I could travel as my rich cousin’s poor companion.”
    â€œPoor indeed if you have less than Frances,” he said, his eyes soft as a doe’s.
    Axia was not oblivious to Tode’s love for her, and when needed, she used it to get round him, for ostensibly, he washer father’s chief spy. She gave him a sweet smile. “It all depends on you.”
    â€œAway from me,” he said, throwing up his arm, for he saw what she was up to. “You think you can persuade me to anything. This is dangerous. Your father’s rage is—”
    â€œWhat would be his rage if I were taken by brigands and held for ransom?” Looking at him, she lowered her voice and hoped he would not catch the hole in her logic, as just moments before she had been reassuring him that she would be safe. “What would you feel when my father refused to pay the ransom and they murdered me?”
    When she saw his eyes flicker, she knew that she had won. Clapping her hands, she laughed aloud as she danced about the room. “No one will know who I am! No gawking boys staring at me as the new men my father hires do. No one staring at my clothes and food, asking whether I wear silk in bed or not. No one judging every word I say because England’s richest heiress has said it. No marriage proposals at the rate of three a day.”
    At that Tode smiled. Axia exaggerated, of course, but declarations of love were tossed over the walls regularly. Young men sang love songs from outside the walls. They wrote sonnets to Axia’s beauty and said they’d glimpsed her in a dream or “from afar” or had climbed a tree and watched her and fallen hopelessly in love with her. Whenever Frances heard that, she always said, “They must have seen
me
.”
    â€œWill Frances agree?” Tode asked softly, buying time to allow him to think this out. “You know how she loves to thwartyou.”
    â€œAgree?” Axia asked, aghast. “Agree! Are you asking me if she’ll agree to have it
all?
To have the gold
and
the beauty? Do you ask me if this is what she wants?”
    She laughed happily.