Savage Spring (23 page)

Alexandria dried her eyes and walked out of the room and down the hallway. Today had been the most emotionally draining day she had ever lived through. She was finding out that it was very painful loving a man who didn’t love her in return. She realized that she had half hoped Falcon would insist that she leave with him, but he hadn’t.

Alexandria walked down the backstairs and out into the garden. As she breathed in the sweet fragrance of the roses, which were in full bloom, she tried to visualize Falcon as a young boy running and playing in this lovely garden. It was hard to think of him as other than the angry man she had encountered today.

Tonight he had made it plain he didn’t want anything more to do with her. She looked up at the night skies and wished she could bring Falcon comfort in his torment. She could see no easy way for him to reclaim his inheritance, unless he allowed Mr. Landon to help him. But Falcon wanted more than his inheritance back—he wanted revenge!

As the days passed, Alexandria’s life settled into a routine. Each day she would have Barlow carry Mr. Landon downstairs so she could wheel him into the garden. The two of them hadn’t discussed Falcon’s visit, but Alexandria could see a change in Mr. Landon. He seemed to grow weaker with each passing day; however, she could sense that a feeling of peace seemed to have settled over him. Once in a while, she would see a smile playing on his lips, and she knew he was pleased about something. It was as if he were waiting with impatience for something to happen.

Alexandria was sure that Mr. Landon had said nothing to his wife about what had occurred between him and Falcon. On one occasion, Claudia had summoned Alexandria to her bedroom and had grilled her about the meeting. Claudia had wanted to know what Mr. Landon and Falcon had talked about, and how long Falcon had remained in her husband’s bedroom. Alexandria had told Claudia very little, which didn’t seem to please her in the least.

Alexandria could feel Claudia’s animosity toward her, but it didn’t bother her overmuch. She herself had no love for the woman who had committed such unspeakable deeds. It was hard for her to conceive anyone’s deliberately setting out to harm another human being, much less trying to have someone killed. Alexandria’s apprehension came from the fear that Claudia might find out Falcon’s true identity.

There was to be a masquerade ball, which Alexandria knew Falcon would be attending. She could see that Claudia was attracted to him, and she was finding she felt bitterly jealous toward the older woman. It was common knowledge in the household that Claudia had plans for Falcon Knight. The servants were gossiping among themselves and even
laying bets that the mistress of the house would lure the handsome young man into her bedroom before the night was over.

Alexandria rapped softly on Mr. Landon’s bedroom door, wondering why he had sent for her during his nap period. The door was immediately opened by Barlow, who nodded for her to enter.

When she approached the bed, she saw that Mr. Landon was propped up on several pillows and there was a glowing smile on his face.

“I feared you might be ill when you sent for me. Are you feeling all right, Mr. Landon?”

“Never…better,” he said, with a surprising amount of volume. “I have…a surprise…for you. Look in those…boxes that are stacked on the…chair,” he told her.

“What is in them?” she asked curiously.

“Now, you will…just have…to open them to find out, won’t you?” he beamed.

Alexandria lifted the lid to the first box and caught her breath as she gazed at the lovely gown she found inside. As she lifted it from the box and held it in front of her, she found it was made of a soft white gauzelike material. There was a golden clip at one shoulder, and a shimmering gold belt. She turned to face Mr. Landon with a question in her eyes.

“Who…what…?”

“I had…it made for you…so you could attend the masked ball tonight. I took…the liberty…of having Barlow take one of your gowns…and a pair of your shoes…to the seamstress for sizing. Don’t you…recognize the style? You will be going to the masked ball…as an Egyptian…princess.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Landon, I could never attend the ball! As a servant, I haven’t been invited.”

“I won’t take…no for an answer. Since I can’t go…myself, you will attend for me…and tell me all about it…tomorrow,” he replied, watching her golden eyes light up wistfully.

“It wouldn’t be at all seemly for me to attend the ball. Besides I don’t think Mrs. Landon would approve.”

“No one will know…who you are. You are young, and I…want to see you…have a good…time. Would you…disappoint an old…man?”

“No, of course not, but…”

“I will hear…no more…about this. Take those…boxes to your room. The only thing I…ask of you…is that you come back here before you go to…the ball. I want to see…how you look in all your…finery.”

Alexandria felt misty-eyed. “I don’t know what to say, Mr. Landon. You are much too kind to me.” She clutched the filmy gown to her. “Thank you, thank you so much!”

“I don’t want your…thanks, Alexandria. Just go and enjoy yourself…tonight. That will be my…thanks.”

Howard’s eyes went to the portrait, and Alexandria knew he was thinking about the beautiful Joanna once more. As always, when he stared at the portrait, he shut everything else out of his mind. Alexandria gathered up the boxes and left the room quietly. Her heart was stirring with excitement. She had never owned such a beautiful gown. She wanted with all her heart to go to the ball. Just this once, she wanted Falcon to see her in a lovely gown.

It was well after sundown, and already Alexandria could hear the music drifting up the stairs, and she knew the ball was in progress. Viewing herself in the cracked mirror that hung on the wall, she was unable to see below her waist. The soft material draped across one shoulder and molded her young body. There were tiny golden sandals on her feet, and a black wig topped her head encircled with a blue-and-gold-colored double serpent’s crown.

Alexandria blinked in astonishment, wondering if her eyes were deceiving her. The image in the mirror was of a beautiful young girl with creamy skin and bright amber-colored eyes. She had never thought of herself as beautiful, but she felt that she might be tonight. She picked up the
gold satin mask that would conceal her identity, and tied it about her head with the long silken ribbons that were attached. Suddenly she lost her nervousness. It was as if having her identity a secret helped to remove her inhibitions. She wished that Falcon could see her now. Would he think her pretty?

With one last glance at the mirror, she left her bedroom and made her way down to the second floor to show Mr. Landon her costume.

Tag watched the dancing couples whirl past him and couldn’t help curling his lip in distaste. He had been with the Indians so long that this kind of showy party didn’t set well with him. How shallow he was finding the white world. It seemed that most of the people he had met since coming here had very low values. As the music blared loudly in his ears, Tag longed for the mountains with their tall pine trees and the winding Milk River he’d left behind.

As he stood in the shadows, he had no trouble recognizing Claudia. She was the one with the most elaborate gown. She was dressed to look like Marie Antoinette, with a white powdered wig resting on the top of her head. Her laughter and good humor could be heard even above the loud music.

Tag smiled as he looked down at his moccasined feet, thinking he was the only one who wasn’t really in costume. He had merely worn the buckskins he was accustomed to wearing. Farley had cut him a leather mask out of one of his old, worn buckskin shirts. He hoped his identity wouldn’t be discovered for some time. He was content to walk around and observe without being observed.

“La, sir, are we to be scalped?” a woman wearing a bright red gown from the Napoleonic era declared, tapping Tag on the shoulder with her fan.

“I may very well drag you off to my wigwam, madam,” Tag replied, without humor.

The woman responded with high-pealed laughter. “I can’t
say that I’d put up much of a fight. I wouldn’t say no if you were to ask me to dance,” she offered.

He bowed elegantly. “You will forgive me if I pass this time. I’m waiting for someone.”

“Oh, well,” she said, looking at the width of his broad shoulders. “She must be a fortunate lady. I suppose it’s my loss.” With another peal of laughter, she sauntered off to find herself a more accessible dancing partner.

Alexandria made her way slowly down the stairs. She gazed over the banister at the sea of faces and could hear the loud laughter of the merrymakers. Everyone was obviously in high spirits. She had no desire to join in the frivolities—it would be enough just being an observer. She felt young and light-hearted when a man dressed in a Renaissance costume grabbed her and whirled her around the dance floor. When she finally managed to get away from him, she made her way outside to the garden.

The full moon seemed to hang in the sky like a giant yellow ball. Its bright glow, with the help of several Chinese lanterns, lit the garden.

Alexandria walked down the path, feeling a cool breeze through her thin costume. The music had stopped, and she knew that the merrymakers had gone into the dining room for dinner. She was glad to have the garden to herself. It somehow had a mystical atmosphere. She loved this house and garden because they belonged to Tag.

It was funny, she thought, lately she had begun to think of Falcon as Taggart James more and more often. Perhaps it was because, in this house, he
was
Taggart James. She was finding out that loving him was the most painful experience she had ever lived through. Perhaps it was because he would never return her love. She thought of Morning Song and wondered what she might have been like. It was hard to think of Tag having a daughter. Would the child look like him…or would she resemble her Indian mother? Alexandria found herself wanting to know Tag’s sister, Joanna.
What was there about her that would cause Mr. Landon to worship her image in the portrait, and her brother to speak of her with such love and respect?

Alexandria moved out of the shadow of light and walked to the small pond that was nestled in a secluded part of the garden. As she watched the moon shimmering on the pond, she reflected on Tag’s plight. It was true he had a mountain of troubles facing him, but so did she. The difference between her and him was that he had the love of his sister to sustain him, while she had no one. Never in her life had she felt so alone. There was no one to whom she could turn.

Alexandria looked down at her costume and wondered if the Egyptian Cleopatra had ever felt this alone and hopeless. Raising her arms over her head, she turned her face up to the moon.

“Yellow moon, sister to the sun god Ra, send someone to walk in my aloneness with me,” she said softly, half serious, half in jest.

“Take my hand, Alexandria. I will see that you are never lonely again.” A deep voice spoke up from the shadows.

Alexandria spun around and almost bumped into a tall figure dressed in Indian buckskins. Even though his face was masked, she knew at once it was Tag. Her heart began to beat wildly, and she didn’t know whether to stand there or run.

“How did you know it was me?” she asked, as his hand drifted across her arm.

“Oh, I know you well, little Egyptian princess. Were you not named for the ancient Egyptian city of Alexandria?” He drew her into his arms, and she rested her face against his soft buckskin shirt. “You are never alone, Alexandria. I thought you knew I would always look after you.”

She raised her face to him and saw the smile playing on his lips. “You have your own troubles, Tag. You don’t need mine added to them.”

He touched her cheek. “Your problems have become mine. I think perhaps I inherited them the night I rescued a
scrawny, ragged lad from a burly old sailor who wanted to shanghai him to sea.”

Tag, I…”

“I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to call me by my name. We are hardly in what you would term a friendly territory.” His words were laced with amusement.

“I am sorry, Falcon—I suppose I wasn’t thinking. You have my word I’ll be more careful in the future.” She was horrified that she had carelessly spoken his name. If they had been overheard, it would have put Tag in very grave danger.

Neither Alexandria or Tag saw the man dressed as a sailor who observed them from behind the willow tree that grew beside the pond. A smile creased the man’s face. He had overheard the conversation and now had the proof he had been searching for. The man who called himself Falcon Knight was none other than Taggart James!

“Let’s leave the party now, Alexandria. Come home with me,” Tag said, brushing his lips against hers and sending shivers of delight down her spine.

“No, I cannot. I must stay here and keep an eye on Claudia. You know she isn’t to be trusted,” Alexandria said, wishing with all her heart that she could go home with Tag. She had decided that when his problems had all been solved, she would just disappear from his life forever. Alexandria knew if she ever allowed him to make love to her again, she would weaken. She must never given in to the call of her heart. Tag would never love her…and she would never stop loving him.

“Would you have me believe that you are staying here only to help me, Alexandria?”

“You can believe what you wish. I will help you if I can, beyond that, I promise nothing.”

“I never asked you for help, Alexandria. What you are doing is dangerous.”

“I am not afraid. Claudia will never connect me with you.”

She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke. “Are you sure you won’t come home with me?” he asked, allowing his hand to drift down her arm.

“No,” she replied, pushing his hand away.

“Do you mean no, you won’t go with me…or no, you are not sure?”

“No, I will not go home with you,” she said in a perplexed voice.

“In that case I had better get back to the ball and make it easy for Claudia to find me.”

“Falcon, don’t you think it was foolish and dangerous for you to come dressed as an Indian? What if Claudia were to discover who you really are?”

“Would you care so much?” he asked softly.

“Of course I would care. How can you even ask?”

“Look at me, Alexandria. This is the way I have dressed since I was twelve years old. The clothing of the white man does not rest well on my body. For all intents and purpose, I am an Indian! Does that disturb you?”

She looked him over and knew he was right. He did seem to belong in the Indian attire he wore. It was hard for her to fathom his living with the Indians; his manners were so correct, and when it suited him, he could act the perfect gentleman. One wouldn’t expect such behavior from a man who had been raised by the Indians.

“Falcon, you also seem to fit well into the white man’s world. I cannot believe you learned all your fine manners from the Indians.”

He laughed softly. “In truth, I owe my manners to my sister, Joanna. I can see, however, you are going to have to be reeducated about what Indians are really like. They may not have the pretty manners you spoke of, but they are far above us in how they treat their fellow man. One day, when I have more time, I will tell you more about the Blood Blackfoot and their chief, Windhawk.”