Lakota Princess (10 page)

He felt like thrashing her and he had to hold himself in check long enough to argue the foolishness of such an action if only within his own mind.

She had married.

Married!

How could she? Hadn’t she vowed to return to him? To marry him?

She belonged to another. Had lain with another. Had…

He pulled this line of thought up short. He spun back into the room.

“I leave now,” he said. “I will return to my home. I will leave you here to your…husband, who cannot even protect you in your own bedroom. And if anyone asks me about you, I will tell them the truth, especially about how a married woman lured me to her bed.”

She gasped, just as he had intended her to do.

“Do not turn away.” He stepped toward her. “Is the truth so unbearable? Did you learn nothing from living with the people that you must act the coward and lie? You are married. And I have made a wasted trip. Tell me”—he smirked at her—“why did you not inform me of your marriage when you lay naked beneath me? Does your husband know you give your favors so freely to others? Perhaps I have learned a valuable lesson, for I have discovered I do not wish to have such a wife as you, one that I would have to search through every tepee to find.”

She swung her head away as though he had slapped her, and Black Bear felt a moment of remorse—a very short moment.

He spun away toward the doors and the balcony. He stepped outside, then stepped back.

“Where is your husband?”

“I don’t know.” She didn’t even look at him and her lack of action perhaps angered him more than anything else she could have done.

“You don’t know? Is he hunting? Is he warring?”

“Black Bear.” She turned a solemn gaze on him. “You do not understand. I don’t even know who—”

“How could he leave you when there is so much danger to you? I would not do this.”

She didn’t say a thing—just gazed at him.

He tread back into the room, stalking around her as though he were a caged beast—not the least bit human.

“Does he know your life is in danger?”

“No and I’m not sure that—”

“Does he leave you because he is afraid of where that danger may lie? Does he tremble before an enemy?”

Estrela had pulled on her nightgown, and Black Bear stared at her as she sat on the bed. The gown did little to hide her beauty from him, and his stomach churned at the sight of her. He had been so certain that she loved him—not just loved him—adored him—and that the strength of her love was enough reason for her to return to Lakota land with him.

He had never felt more the fool.

Still, he stood before her, unable to leave. And he cursed himself for his feelings for her.

He could not leave her unprotected. He could not just walk away and leave her to her fate. And it was this knowledge, more than anything, that spurred on his anger.

“When will he return?”

“Who?”

Black Bear grunted. “Your husband. When will he come to this house to get you?”

Estrela paused. “Black Bear. I am trying to tell you something, if you will only listen.”

“I do not listen to women. No more. I am here because I listened to you. I let the beauty of your voice, your words sway me. I believed you. I trusted you.” He threw his head back and looked down his nose at her. “But no more. When does he return?”

“He doesn’t.”

Black Bear maintained his poise in front of her, his outward demeanor condescending, no trace to be read there of the trembling he felt within.

“He would leave you to your fate? What sort of man is this?”

“None. He is no man at all. I’ve been trying to tell you that—”

“You speak of your husband in this manner? It is good that I have learned this now. I would wish no wife of mine to speak of me in such a way.”

“Black Bear. Listen to me…”

“No,” he said, his features set, his jaw thrust forward. “I do not listen to you. You declared you loved me and look at what you have done. You have—”

“I did love you. I love you still. Listen—”

“Halt!” he said, and with his hands he signed it. Black Bear stepped forward, scowling at her. Her words should have soothed him. Should have. They didn’t. No. Rage surged through him at this moment and it was all Black Bear could do to keep his hands off her.

Had he been home, he wouldn’t now be standing in front of her. Had he been home, he would not even argue with her. Had he been home, he would long ago have thrown her over his shoulder and stolen her away to his own camp.

Stolen her away…

Why not?
What did he care for the white man’s marriage? What, for that matter, did he care for the white man’s civilization?

Any society, any man who could leave his wife so unprotected did not deserve to have her.

He stopped. He stood absolutely still, his demeanor challenging to her, to the whole world. And a look swept over his face that would have frightened even the most stalwart of men.

He raised his chin then, glaring at her. And slowly, so very slowly that the action wreaked of calm menace, he smiled.

Estrela saw the look and cringed. Of what was he thinking?

She drew back, clutching the covers more fully around her.

“Black Bear?” she ventured.

But he only grinned at her, the gesture at odds with any sort of humor.

“Come,
witoka.
We waste time.”

Her eyes widened a fraction of an inch as she repeated,
“Witoka?”

“Did you think I had come here alone, that I have no friends here? Did you think I couldn’t return home at any time?”

“Witoka?
You wouldn’t.”

Her answer was a mere grin. And with no further warning he swept forward, snatching her around the waist and throwing her over his shoulder.

She beat at him, she kicked, she struggled. She even screamed.

He remained, however, impervious to it all. He grabbed the sheet she had used as covering and throwing it over her, shot toward the balcony.

“You can’t do this,” she screamed at him in Lakota. “I am not
witoka.
I am one of the people.”

He didn’t say a thing, not even the obvious response that she was no longer one of the “people.” Not when she had so obviously betrayed him.

She kicked him in the ribs, and Black Bear stalled long enough to wrap her in the sheet, her efforts against him ineffective, her feet, hands and arms bound to her in the silken knots of the cloth.

“I am not
witoka
,”
she screamed again, her voice her only weapon. “I am not your ‘captive.’”

“Ho!
Yes! You are right,” he said, leaping toward the edge of the balcony. “You are
wa-wici-mama
.”

She screamed.

“Does the truth hurt?” he asked, no sympathy to be read in his tone. “Be glad I do not cut off the end of your nose. It is the least I should do for the offending adulteress you are.
Wa-wici-mama.
Adulteress. Now, quiet, before I throw you to the ground and, Waste Ho, we are as high as the bird soars. I do not think you would like the landing.”

And with this said, he sprang over the balcony ledge to the stone walls of the house, using a figure head there to catch himself. With a plop they fell against the side of the building. Estrela knew the stone wall provided plenty of footholds for his moccasined feet as well as handholds, and she could feel Black Bear scaling down the vine covered surface one story, two, as easily as he would climb down a cliff ledge.

It was probably not the wisest thing she did, yet Estrela struggled against him as he tore down the wall, her efforts completely ineffective against his expertise.

Slung over his back, she watched the ground come closer and closer until she felt his pattern of climbing change and she glanced over to the wall to see a section of the structure change from jutting stone to smooth brick. But even that didn’t stop Black Bear. He scooted over to a nearby trellis, grabbing a hold of the oak handhold it provided.

He hadn’t counted on its flimsiness, and Estrela almost laughed at the expression she glimpsed on his face when a section of the trellis came off in his hand.

He grabbed at another handhold, but it was too late. They fell backward through the air, Estrela face first. She screamed as she watched the ground come ever closer.

An awning caught their fall, yet still it didn’t break the speed of their descent. With a bounce, they flew through the air, up, up and over the awning; down, down, closer and closer to the ground. Estrela screamed and tightly closed her eyes.

Thud! Splash!
They crashed down into cold, cold water over their heads, and unprepared for it, Estrela gulped water into her lungs.

But with a powerful kick, Black Bear swam up to the surface, still clutching his prize.

Only then did Estrela dare to peep her eyes open. They were surrounded by water; dizzying, cold water.
The fish pond,
she thought, grimacing.

Still Black Bear didn’t relinquish her. He tread water a moment before lashing out in a strong stroke toward the side of the pond, the ducks, the geese and swans quacking at his interference.

He pulled himself and her up onto the shore. And getting to his feet, he stood, the both of them sopping wet. He gave her an odd, amused glance before commenting, “Was easy to steal you.”

And throwing her over his shoulder once again, he fled through the bushes and flowers, around another pond and straight into the manicured garden of tall bushes.

And so intent were they upon their own getaway that neither one heard the gardener’s quiet applause as the Indian fled with his captive through the maze of the hedged labyrinth…

Chapter Six

“Ah! Children, children, there you are.”

The Duchess of Colchester met the Indian and his captive as they emerged from the gardened labyrinth. Both were wet, haggard, and Estrela’s silken sheet lay in shreds around her as she remained thrown over the Indian’s scratched body. Snatches of branches clung to Black Bear’s hair and to his clothing, and the Duchess frowned at them.

“Old Indian game,” Black Bear said by way of explanation.

The Duchess looked skeptical. All she said, however, was, “What unusual games you play.” Ignoring their appearance, the Duchess placed her hand through the Indian’s free arm. “And I daresay the exercise must be good for you. What? Do you agree?”

Black Bear would have cursed at this moment, if there had been words for such a thing in his language. However, the Indian language allowed for no such words and so all Black Bear said was,
“Hau,
good morning.”

“Why, bless me, yes, but it is a good morning.” The Duchess of Colchester chanced a glance at Estrela as she lay over Black Bear’s shoulder, then looking quickly away, said, “Why, my dear, I must see to your maid at once. She must dress you more properly in the morning or is this part of your game? Well, no matter, I will see that she is sent to your room at once. Oh, my, but what fun it is to have you here. But come now, we’ve all been waiting for you in the breakfast parlor. Come along, you must hurry and dress.”

Estrela made a face of pure perplexity before saying, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

And the Duchess, apparently unwilling to glance in Estrela’s direction again, said, “Yes, of course, my dear.” She pulled Black Bear along with her as they strode toward the house. “Come now. I will send servants to your room at once. You needn’t think I will give you no help. After all, we are your sponsors now. We are responsible for you. Dear me, but it is so delightful. Come now. Don’t hold back. I will walk you both to your rooms. Oh, we will have such fun today. My, but I grow more and more excited.”

Estrela, her bottom swaying in the air, contemplated her lack of choice. Black Bear would carry her into the house, accompanied all the while by the Duchess of Colchester, who insisted on chattering the entire way.

And to her credit, though the Duchess might have thought it unusual to see the Indian wet, dirty, scratched, with various branches of several different bushes and trees caught in his hair and his clothing, and carrying Estrela over his shoulder as though she were a deer he had shot for supper, her Grace never said a word.

“Surely there must be a way to stay here. I am, after all, injured.”

“I’m afraid t’ Duchess was specific,” Anna said. “I am to get ye dressed and escort ye to t’ breakfast parlor. ’Ave ye a dress that ye favor wearin’ today?”

Estrela glowered at her reflection in the mirror and Anna almost laughed at the expression.

“Ye could wear that pale pink creation t’ Duke and Duchess of Colchester gave ye. W’ yer blond ’air and fair coloring, would go well w’ it.”

Estrela sighed. “’Tis almost see-through.”

Anna laughed. “’Tis t’ style.”

“Just the same, I’ll wear something else. He’ll think me wanton if I come to breakfast in a transparent gown.”

Anna paused while she studied her friend. At length, she said, “Is ’e t’ one, then?”

Estrela lifted her gaze only briefly to her friend, then just as quickly looked away, saying simply, “Yes.”

“’E came after ye all t’ way from t’ Americas?”

“Yes.”

“And ’e came to yer room last night?”

Estrela nodded.

“And…?”

“I told him I was married.”

“Ye told ’im ye were…” Anna paused a moment. “Do ye think that wise? Ye could ’ave waited a bit, couldn’t ye? Waited at least until t’ man settled into ‘is new ’ome?”

Estrela winced and lifted her blue-eyed gaze toward Anna. And in that glance blazed a wealth of emotion, raw with feeling.

Anna held her breath.

“He is leaving.”

“I see.” Anna said, studying her friend through the looking glass, seeing things about Estrela that others might miss: from the stubborn set of her ladyship’s chin to the perfection of her creamy complexion.

The maid shook her head. Some might mistake Estrela’s soft-spoken manner for weakness or lack of strength, not realizing that only a strong person can afford to be kind. Some might see only her flawless beauty without looking beneath the surface to notice the loyalty, the truthfulness, the innocence of a true friend. And it was with no surprise that Anna realized that Estrela’s allure had little to do with the physical, her outward beauty being a mere complement to all that she was.