"She is with Tode," Thomas said. "He will see that she is safe. And I am sure she will return soon."

Jamie looked at the two men as though they had lost their minds. They did not seem overly concerned that he had been commissioned to get the heiress safely to her fiance. But this-this Axia thwarted him at every opportunity. "She must be found." Turning to the maid who was laying out bread and cheese on the little table from Jamie's tent, he said, "You must wake your mistress as-"

He broke off because Frances came slowly out of the wagon, and insignificantly, he thought that she did not look so beautiful first thing in the morning. "She has stolen a wagon and gone," Jamie said, not explaining who "she" was. "And I must find her and bring her back."

Frances did not like the early morning and especially did not like being confronted with Axia's misdeeds the first thing of the day. "She has taken the wagon into the village," she said, reaching for a mug of cider from her maid. Her gown was wrinkled, and she was annoyed with Axia for not having seen that it was properly packed.

Jamie was too busy saddling his horse and too angry to hear her, but Rhys and Thomas, hands full of bread and cheese, turned to look at her. "Why did she want to go into the village?" Thomas asked.

"To make a penny, of course," Frances answered.

When all three men looked at her in consternation, her lips tightened. When did she become Axia's keeper? Nodding toward the people on the road a few yards away, all of them walking or riding toward the village in the near distance, she said, "There is a merchant's fair, is there not? And money is exchanging hands?" Her voice was sarcastic. "If there is money to be made, then that is where Axia is." She looked up at Jamie, her eyes narrowed. "I told you she had the heart and soul of a greedy little-"

She didn't finish the sentence because Jamie had mounted his horse and was lost in a cloud of dust as he thundered toward the village.

As Jamie rode, he thought that he wasn't sure he believed Frances. Why would a girl who lived with the Maidenhall heiress want to go into a country village on market day? And even though he remembered Tode's words about Axia being good with money, he didn't believe that termagant was good at anything except drawing pictures. How could she be when she'd been locked away all her life?

No, he corrected himself, it was Frances who had been locked away. Axia had a father and sisters and had lived with them half her life and now visited them regularly.

"Have you seen a wagon with-?" Jamie started to ask as soon as he reached the outskirts of the village, but he broke off when someone pointed and said, "It's him. The dragonslayer. The lion killer. It's him!"

Jamie, teeth gritted, reined his horse away from the man and into the crowd of people. Obviously, she was here and people had seen his picture on the side of that odious wagon.

Always, it seemed that Axia had the ability to humiliate him. For twenty-eight years he had conducted himself with dignity and pride, but since he had met her, his life had become a farce. "A Greek tragedy," he said under his breath as he wove his horse through what seemed to be a few hundred people who were buying, trading, bartering, or just visiting each other.

"Dragonslayer!" he heard called out more than once. Cynically, he wondered how they recognized him, what with the scratches still visible on his cheeks and one of his eyes still bruised.

Toward one end of the town was a large crowd of people, and just above their heads he could see the colors of Axia's painted wagon. And, believe it or not, he could hear Axia's voice. How could such a small female be so loud?

In order to get near the wagon, he had to go around the crowd and come in the back way, and then it was only because he was atop the horse that he could see what was going on.

He'd purchased the wagons as a pretense only, never thinking what they were meant for. Tode had told him that there was cloth in the cellars, so Jamie had decided to use some of it as part of their disguise. But now he could see that this wagon had been built for what Axia was using it for. One side of it, most of the dragon's belly, had been raised, making an overhead door, held aloft by two posts that were fitted into iron rings bolted to the side. There was a shelf, which had probably been attached to the inside of the wagon, fitted across the bottom of the opening, making a convenient counter.

Axia had draped a bolt of cloth across one end of the inside of the wagon, forming a curtain, and Jamie had no doubt that Tode was hiding behind that, out of sight of the crowd. Inside the wagon was Axia, Roger with her as he rushed to cut and measure, according to what Axia was telling him to do.

But what confused Jamie at first was why there was so large a crowd around the wagon. Had they never seen a cloth merchant before? Or was it the way the wagon was painted? He could imagine that they would gather in crowds to see it, but these people were buying as fast as Roger and Tode, hidden behind his curtain, could cut. Jamie knew that a few hours ago there had been tall stacks of cloth inside the wagon, but now there was very little. However, there did seem to be a huge wheel of cheese, some bags of flour, a haunch of beef, and, unless he missed his guess, a couple of chickens, and they were only what he could see. He had no doubt that there was a great deal more on the floor out of his view.

He had just urged his horse forward when Axia's voice rang out, making him halt.

"My ancestors were the greatest merchants ever put on this earth," she shouted, even though she seemed to be talking to a man only a foot in front of her. "I'd sooner give this cloth away than accept what you are offering. See that glimmer? Dragon scales, that's what makes that shine. Have you never wondered what happened to the slain dragons of old? The great knights killed them, true, but my ancestors skinned them and salted the skins, scales and all. They saved them for generations, not knowing what to do with them, but then my own grandmother, blessed be her name, discovered a way to spin the scales into threads and my sainted grandfather oversaw the ma.s.sive looms it took to make the scales into cloth. Now, see the way it shimmers in the sun? Dragon cloth," she shouted. "Dragon cloth for sale. It never wears out."

It took Jamie some moments to clear his head of the lies he had just heard. Dragon cloth? It never wears out?!

Every knightly vow he'd ever taken rose up in him. How could she lie like that? How could she-?

He didn't bother wasting any more time thinking but kneed his horse forward into the crowd, scattering them as he rode to stand in front of the wagon.

"What-?" Axia began, then groaned when she saw who it was. "Close up, men. The devil has eaten the sun," she shouted, ostensibly toward Roger and Tode in back of her.

"Get out here," Jamie said to her, his jaw clamped shut.

A man standing by his foot, a fat goose tucked under his arm, stared up at Jamie and started to say, "Dragonsl-" but the look Jamie gave him kept him from finishing his cry.

"Now!" Jamie commanded to Axia. "Leave the wagon and let the men take care of it." He turned to Roger and Tode, who he knew was listening, "And that wagon had better be back in camp immediately." Roger just nodded as Axia opened the door and stepped out.

"Could someone ask this man what he is angry about now?" she asked, squinting against the sun as she looked around the crowd but refusing to look up at Jamie. "Or perhaps it is just the fact that I live and breathe that offends him?"

Jamie wasn't about to make himself more of a laughingstock before this entire village and the neighboring population than her half-dressed painting of him had already done. "You there!" he said to a burly man with muscles bulging. "Lift her up to me." Nor was he going to dismount and get closer to these people who were comparing the painting to the actuality.

The man's face lit up as though he'd received the keys to the kingdom, and in an instant he had put his hands under Axia's arms and was lifting her into Jamie's saddle to sit before him. But as the man started to drop her, he felt the sharp point of Jamie's dagger just under the tip of his chin.

"If you would like to keep those thumbs of yours," Jamie said, "watch what they touch."

The man looked properly chastised, but the crowd, already excited by the wagon and Axia's promise of dragon cloth, found this whole scene appealing to their imaginations. One man in the back, far away from Jamie, yelled, "Dragonslayer!" and within minutes the whole of them had taken it up. "Dragonslayer! Dragonslayer! Dragonslayer!"

Rolling his eyes skyward, Jamie, Axia before him, turned his horse and started to make his way out of the village. With some effort he was able to disentangle himself from the crowd and head toward the fields that lay in the direction of the camp. But he did not go quickly there, for he wanted some time to try, once again, to talk some sense into this disruptive young woman.

"You are drawing attention to us," he began, meaning to wait until they were someplace where he could dismount, but he couldn't seem to wait. "What is the use of a disguise if you parade us before the whole town, making us a spectacle and a laughingstock?"

She did not say a word.

"Do you have no answer?" he demanded. "Do you never have an explanation for your actions? Do you never think before you act?"

Axia was in the saddle before him, both her legs to one side, his arms were around her, albeit to hold the reins but still around her, and her entire left side was pressed against his body. In spite of the fact that she had decided that she hated him for all the things he had done to her and most of all for not recognizing that she was Diana, he did feel rather nice.

"Axia," Jamie said sternly, "what do you have to say for yourself?"

Axia bent her head forward. "Horse, do you hear anyone talking? No? Nor do I. It must be the breeze in the trees."

Jamie gave a heavy sigh of exasperation. "When I received a letter from Perkin Maidenhall asking if I would escort his daughter across England, I thought it would be an easy way to make money," he said as though talking to himself. "But now I know that I'd rather rout criminals in the Highlands of Scotland than deal with-with..." As usual, Axia seemed to defy his powers of description.

He took a deep, calming breath. "Axia," he said softly, for now, holding her like this, he could remember that she was a woman. Most of the time it was difficult to remember that she was anything but an imp put on earth to hara.s.s him. "You cannot take the wagon and disappear at will. You and your cousin are under my protection. I must know where you are and what you are doing at all times. Do you understand me?"

Again he awaited her answer, even if it were addressed to his horse, but when he looked down at her, he saw that she had fallen asleep. Her head was nestled into the hollow of his shoulder, her hands were primly in her lap, and she had fallen asleep against him.

And no wonder, he thought. She did twice as much work as anyone else in their troop. Not that she ever did any work for him, but he saw all that she did for the others. And now, from the look of the contents of the wagon, he wouldn't have to buy food stores for the coming week. Maybe, he thought reluctantly, Tode had been right and Axia was, well, competent with money.

However, he must speak to her about her outrageous lies about "dragon cloth."

A few hundred yards before him, he could see the camp, and he knew that the others awaited them. But Jamie was sure that soon Tode and the driver would bring the other wagon, what Rhys called the dragon wagon, and shortly they would be off on the day's journey.

Knowing that he should join them at once, instead, on impulse, Jamie turned his horse off the road and rode up a hill toward a huge oak tree that provided deep shade. It wasn't easy, but he managed to get off the horse while holding Axia and without waking her, then, carrying her as though she were a child, he sat down under the oak tree, Axia cuddled on his lap.

She slept for nearly an hour, curled on his lap, his hand holding hers. He hadn't realized before now how small she was. Maybe it was just her character that was large, he thought, because now, as he looked at her little hand and felt the way her head did not reach his chin, she made him feel very protective. .Somehow, right now he felt as though he actually was the man she'd painted on the side of the wagon.

Fastening his arms about her tightly, he pulled her close to him, put his head back against the tree, and began to doze himself.

Minutes later, he awoke with a start.

"Get your big, horrible hands off of me!" Axia yelled at him, hitting him in the ribs with her elbow. "Do you think that I am a loose woman who you can be free with?"

Jamie blinked at her, for a moment not knowing where he was or what was happening to him. Confusion seemed to be a normal state with him lately. It had become a way of life ever since he had climbed over that wall and met this extraordinary young woman.

Although she was still sitting on his lap, she was angry at him-as she always seemed to be. "Do you think I am another Diana?" she asked him, her nose close to his.

Had she been any other woman in the world and he'd awakened with her on his lap, he would have kissed her, but Axia wasn't like anyone else.

Unceremoniously, without saying a word, he pushed her off his lap onto the hard ground and went to his horse.

Axia was confused herself. Did he fondle every woman he met? "Lecher!" she said but without the venom that such an accusation required. Then, standing, she dusted herself off.

"I will not-" she began when he approached her, but he grabbed her around the waist so tight he cut off her breath, then he lifted her onto the saddle. However, he lifted her a little too high, then dropped her so she landed hard on the leather and wood of his saddle. When she said, "Ow!" he gave a little smile as he threw his leg over the saddle and sat behind her.

And as soon as the horse took a step, Axia leaned back against Jamie in a familiar way that made him smile. And, although he didn't see, she smiled also. She didn't really believe he was a lecher. He'd wanted to kiss her.

After a while, she said softly, "I had a choice of cheeses so I got that hard white kind you like best."

"Did you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm, but inside he was leaping with joy. It was the first time she'd ever done anything for him. But best of all, she had noticed what he liked.

He searched for something else to say. "Maidenhall gave me a purse for expenses, and what you traded for today will save me."

Twisting in his arms, she looked up at him, "Oh, Jamie, I would like to help save expenses. I liked buying and selling today. Oh, but it was fun, and..." She looked down. "And maybe I was good at it."

He smiled at the top of her head. "You were magnificent."

"Really? Do you truly think so?"

"Yes, the best. You are as talented at selling as you are at drawing."

Her eyes wide, she looked up at him. "But I'm not so good at drawing. I'm sure you've seen much better."

"Never. Not anywhere in the world."

Opening and closing her mouth for a few moments, Axia seemed at a loss for words, and that pleased Jamie very much. "I noticed you like almonds, so I shall stuff a duck with almonds and here..." Reaching inside her bodice, she pulled out several sprigs of wild sage. "I found this and thought it would help the dressing."

Jamie smiled at her. "I shall relish every bite," he said in a low voice.

For a moment Axia had no idea what he meant, then she blushed because she realized he was referring to where the sage had been. Her face still red, she turned around and settled back against him.

When the camp came into view, she said, "May I try to help with expenses? I so like to be useful."

"If you like," Jamie said. "But no lying. No more promises of cloth that will never wear out. And no more disappearing so I don't know where you are. You can't imagine how worried I was this morning when I awoke and you weren't there."

"I would think you'd be glad," she said, tight-lipped. "Your life would be much easier if I fell into a hole and stayed there."

He laughed as he put his arms tighter around her. "Axia, I think I would miss you if you were gone. I know you cause me nothing but trouble, but I would miss you."

She knew he couldn't see her face, so she indulged herself in a wide grin. "I have turnips and carrots and a huge slab of b.u.t.ter. And, oh, yes, tiny onions. And I could pull the feathers from the geese to start making you a pillow."

"That would be very nice," he said softly as they entered the camp, and Rhys put up his arms to help her down. "Very nice indeed."

Chapter 12.

As soon as Frances saw Axia sitting on the horse in front of Jamie, she knew that things had changed between the two of them. And of course it would, as it seemed that Axia had a way with men. Frances wasn't sure, but she thought perhaps it was the way Axia was always feeding them.

"They are men, not hogs to be fattened for market," Frances had said more than once. "If I were them, I'd worry you were after my liver."

Now, looking at Axia getting down from Jamie's horse, Frances gave a great sigh. This trip was not going as she'd hoped. When she agreed to be the Maidenhall heiress in Axia's place, she had envisioned traveling the country with everyone knowing who she was. That way she would have had much interest from men, and she had planned to choose one for a husband. Perhaps it would be trickery to make a man believe she was an heiress before they were married and later tell him that she was poorer than he was, but then Frances hoped that her beauty would inspire a man to love her. Frances knew that if she was to make a good match, she had to do it now, on this trip.

Axia knew what awaited her at the end of this journey, but Frances did not. In usual Axia-fashion, she refused to brood about her approaching marriage, but Frances knew that somewhere inside her, Axia knew. As for Frances, she had no idea what Perkin Maidenhall had planned for her. Would a letter be awaiting her, telling her she was no longer needed as a "companion" to Axia? Would she be sent back to her "family"? Sent to that group of people who she always described to Axia as a set of angels but who, in truth, never stopped badgering Frances to get more goods, more money, more anything from the Maidenhall estate?

Frances knew that Axia thought her life in her "beautiful prison" was the most horrible existence on earth, but then Axia had never experienced much of life. She was protected from it, sheltered, had never really seen it.

But Frances knew what happened to women without money. Her mother had been beautiful, from all accounts more beautiful than Frances ever thought of being. But her mother had married for love. She had run away from a marriage with a prosperous, but old and boring, banker and married a handsome ne'er-do-well who refused to stay at one occupation for more than a few months. Within five years, her mother was no longer beautiful but worn out from bearing children and taking in sewing.

While her mother was still alive, Frances, dressed in patched and worn clothing, used to walk past the banker's rich house and wondered how her mother could have married her father. She used to look at the banker's children in their clean and pressed clothing, looked at their toys, and she vowed that she would never do what her mother did. If she, Frances, was fortunate enough to inherit her mother's beauty, she would use it.

It was her idea to write to Perkin Maidenhall and point out that her family was distantly related to his through his father's brother and ask him for employment. Sometimes Frances thought of that letter, remembered how she had laboriously written it again and again, then thought how she'd stolen the good-quality writing paper from a printer's desk. She wrote that his daughter must be very lonely as no one ever saw her and could she, Frances, go and be her friend?

When the answer came, along with a pouch of money, no one had ever been more joyous than Frances and her family. They had celebrated for a week, until nearly all the money was spent. And when the Maidenhall wagon came to take Frances away, she never looked back.

So now Frances had seen a way to get away from Axia, from her parsimonious father, from horrid Tode, and from dependence on the Maidenhall money. If she could get a man to fall in love with her, she'd marry him. She did not ask for someone fabulously wealthy nor a man who was a blushing maiden's dream of handsomeness. All she wanted was someone like that banker her mother had turned down.

But who? How? Frances wanted to scream. How was she going to meet an eligible man if she was traveling as James Montgomery's wife? Which, of course, was a joke. Other than the mention of this before they'd left the estate, nothing had come of it. And for all that Axia seemed able to sneak away from the man's eagle eyes, Frances was not so daring.

So Frances tried to look at her prospects. There were the earl's two men, but Frances knew poverty when she saw it. They weren't a great deal better off than she was. Which left only the earl himself.

And of course he had eyes only for Axia.

d.a.m.n her! Frances thought. Axia had no idea how men looked at her. She was so ignorant she thought men looked at her because she was the legendary Maidenhall heiress, but the truth was that what Axia missed in cla.s.sic beauty she made up for in vivacity. Having been shut up all her life, Axia had no idea what was suitable behavior and what was unacceptable. She was as likely to serve her father's ancient amba.s.sadors dinner in a barn as she was to have them sit at a table.

Axia had no idea about t.i.tles and treating a man of rank with reverence. Two years ago a decrepit old duke had demanded entrance to the estate. He said he was tired of hearing of this heiress and wanted to see her for himself. Axia put him to work pulling feathers out of the chests of squawking geese, then later gave him a drawing of himself and the geese. The old man went away swearing he'd never had such an enjoyable afternoon in his life. And the next year when they heard he'd died, Axia wept with grief.

So now it didn't surprise Frances that James Montgomery was watching Axia in fascination. But what did surprise her was the way Axia watched him in return. And the way Tode watched both of them. Something was indeed going on, and Frances would love to know what it was.

Love, Frances thought with disgust. That was the key word in all this. She had no doubt that what was happening was the beginnings of love, that stupid, useless thing that everyone spoke of but no one needed. Love was what had caused all her mother's unhappiness. Love was- Love was what was going to be Axia's undoing if she were not careful, Frances thought. What would happen if Axia went against her father's wishes and demanded to marry some impoverished earl? Her father would disinherit her, no doubt, and of course her earl would leave her. Then where would Axia be? Her cousin was pretty, but it took great beauty to make a good marriage without a dowry. If Axia were poor, Frances was sure her cousin would be quite unmarriageable.

Perhaps I should save her, Frances thought. Save her from herself. If I took James Montgomery from her, then Axia would no longer be in danger of angering her father. No longer in danger of being disinherited.

And if I married an earl, I would be Lady Frances, she thought, smiling. Wouldn't my sisters eat their hearts out at that?