Lakota Princess (5 page)

“Yes, he is my friend,” she whispered, at last finding her voice.

Only then did Mato Sapa, Black Bear, brave warrior of the Teton Lakota, Brulé Tribe, relax his position, rising to his full height of six feet, a few inches taller than the Duke, himself.

“You may take her to mend her wounds,” she heard him say to the Duke. “But she will not leave my sight until I am certain of her safety.”

“Yes, my friend,” the Duke spoke back, moving forward and extending a hand in welcome to the Indian.

Mato Sapa drew back, she felt it, felt him reach for his knife with his free hand, though she saw that he didn’t draw it. Estrela could see the Indian’s chin rise and she knew that he was looking down his nose at the Duke at this moment, his glance unwavering. “I only allow this,” Mato Sapa said, “because she says you are friend. I will reserve judgment myself until I know you better. She rode in your travoi-on-wheels. You did not protect her well.”

The Duke actually smiled, then said, “You are wise for such a young man. So be it.”

The Indian nodded before turning to sweep Estrela into his arms, taking her full weight upon himself. His steps followed behind the Duke, and though his glance swept over her briefly, he kept his gaze on the Duke as he said to her, not even a smile on his face, “Was easy to find you.”

Chapter Three

Estrela sat poised in a grand room, her arm resting on the polished wood table. Carvings of flowers and angels adorned the table’s legs and fine trim, each of the ten matching chairs echoing the same ornate designs. Fresh flowers in the center of the table scented the air with delicate fragrance while their beauty brightened the room. Two tall candles stood on each side of the flowers, their silver casings polished until they glowed almost as brightly as the few rays of sunlight sneaking into the room from the five-foot windows.

An intricately woven, multicolored Chinese rug spread over the floor from one end of the room to the other and Estrela watched as Mato Sapa, Black Bear, examined first it, the table, then each painting that nearly covered each wall.

Estrela sighed and tried to take her gaze away from him, but she couldn’t. And though she knew it was impolite to stare in both the Indian and the English societies, it mattered little. He looked too handsome, too potent, too…

She hadn’t seen the wild, Indian garb for years and, as though she were starved, she stared and she stared.

He looked magnificent, dressed in buckskin shirt, leggings and breechcloth, each one beaded and quilled in designs of blue, red, yellow, and white. He stood erect and tall, his shoulders broad, his head thrown back. His hair was long and unencumbered, falling well below his shoulders. He wore two eagle feathers at the side of his head, tied with buckskin and hanging down, there to flow in with his hair. His eyes were black, his cheekbones high, and his nose bore all the traits of his pure American-Indian heritage. He looked exotic, handsome…and dear.

And she could not look away.

She watched him now as he paced back and forth before her. She knew, from being herself with the Indians, that in addition to memorizing every article in the room, Mato Sapa watched the physician who sat next to Estrela. He did not trust the man. It was plain to see.

“What does he do?” the Indian asked in Lakota.

Estrela paused only a moment. “He dresses the wound, though don’t tell him,” she spoke in Lakota, “but he mutters about this not being a physician’s work.”

“Then why is he here? I could do a better job of it.” The Indian looked annoyed, but only for a moment. Quickly he masked the look before saying, “But we leave the point.” Again in Lakota. “I know he is ‘dressing’ the wound, but that is not what I need to know. What I am asking is what sort of poultice he applies, and why does he keep bleeding the wound? He looks to be doing you more harm than good.”

“It is their way.”

Mato Sapa cast a doubtful glance at the physician, then at his work over Estrela’s arm. The Indian tread over to them, centered himself between them and glowered down at the doctor.

“Why do you allow this man to touch you like this?”

Estrela lowered her gaze, deferring at last to proper Indian etiquette. And though she longed to reach out and touch Mato Sapa, Black Bear, as he stood so closely to her, all she said was, “The sick and injured here in England are attended to by the men.” She paused, then, “Women have no place in the sickroom.”

Though she perceived that he listened to this statement with something akin to shock, his features revealed nothing. Instead he said, “Were I this man, I would have had this done and you wrapped in a buffalo robe, resting. You may yet grow warm with fever. Has he no concern for you?”

“He is doing the best that he can.”

“Humph,” was the Indian’s only response.

“Mato Sapa,” Estrela said, not even daring to raise her gaze to his, knowing he would consider this action an insult. She sighed, then said in English, “Black Bear, though I know I should not speak it to you, I hope you will allow me to ask you a few questions. I am glad to see you. I thank you for your assistance to me. Because of you, I still live.”

He didn’t say a word, emitting only a grunt low in the back of his throat.

“But Black Bear, I am astounded that you are here. And I can’t help wondering how you managed to come here. And I wonder too”—she gulped and closed her eyes—“why have you come?”

“Do you forget your manners so easily?”

Black Bear answered her back in Lakota. “I am barely arrived here, and already you ask me my purpose? Besides, I cannot believe that you cannot answer your own question. Or have you forgotten our vows so soon? The years since we have seen one another have not been that great.”

“I…” She hesitated, then, “I am not ill-mannered,” Estrela said, choosing to respond only to his first statement, ignoring the rest. “Customs are different here and—”

“But you know mine. And,” he added, taking care to speak his language slowly, “you know my purpose in being here.”

Estrela paused. She didn’t dare look at him. She didn’t dare speak. And Black Bear, realizing her dilemma, nodded, treading away from her to restudy each painting.

Still in Lakota he said, “I have been much disappointed that you have not returned home before now. And…” he looked back at her, over his shoulder, “…I had at one time considered your absence betrayal to me.”

“I know.”

“You know this?” He turned around in full, letting any anger he felt settle in upon her. “Then why did you not come back? Why did you not keep your vow to me?”

Estrela died a little inside, though outwardly she managed to look contrite, tilting her chin upward as was her way. Slowly she raised her gaze to look at him. “I had no means of getting there,” she said, “until recently and then I worried that… Black Bear, I must know.” She paused. “Have you…married?”

He didn’t move. He didn’t answer. He didn’t even blink. Finally, after several moments, he turned, putting his back toward her, pacing to one of the huge, five-foot windows and Estrela thought she might have seen him shudder before he said, “I realize my coming here has been a shock. I will give you time to accustom yourself to me again. I will give you time to think more wisely. But I do not understand why you would believe I would marry. Did we not, you and I, make a promise? Do you think I would so easily break it? No,
Waste Ho Win,
I have not married. I have waited for you. Waited, perhaps for a phantom, a mere ghost of my imagination.”

“I—”

“I am here to take you back. Or so I had thought. Your silence on this subject now makes me wonder if I have made a wasted trip.” He turned away from the window, facing back into the room, his glance seeking her out. “Tell me,
Waste Ho Win,
Pretty Voice Woman,” he said, his features revealing no emotion, “have you changed so much?”

“I—”

“Do not answer now. You are injured. My presence here is perhaps startling. I will allow you time to heal, time to become accustomed to me again. But know that I cannot stay here long. Even now, my heart longs to hear the voices of the prairie, of my grandfathers.”

Estrela shivered, but whether from cold or pure reaction, she couldn’t tell. She shut her eyes and inhaled sharply.

Tell him
, a part of her demanded.
Tell him you are married to another, even though that marriage be a sham. Tell him and let him return to his people now before you become too attached to him again; and he, perhaps to you.

“I… I… You,” she started, then stopped. She glanced up at Black Bear to see him watching her intently. “I appreciate your kindness. I am glad you are here. It is only that I…thought you might have married.”

“I have not, as you can see. I have kept my vow to you. I have even come to you. And what of you? There is a ship sailing within this next moon. We could be on it. We could journey back to our home. You, Waste Ho Win, have a chance to keep your vow to me. You have a chance to become my woman and return to the people, as we planned.”

Estrela winced inside. She longed to cry out, to accept his proposal, to tell him that she had never forgotten him, that she never would. She couldn’t. She was bound by a promise to another, bound by her own integrity. And so she looked away. It was all she could do.

“What is it?”

“I cannot leave here now.” Her words, though soft, held a note of finality, a note she knew would not escape Black Bear’s notice.

He didn’t say anything in response. He didn’t even move. And with his back toward the window, Estrela had a difficult time seeing the effect of her words, for the light encircled him, blocking out his features.

She swallowed hard, and had she been able, she would have gladly died at this instant. Her stomach twisted, her heart quietly cried and every part of who and what she was now demanded she run to him, that she put her arms around him and tell him that she loved him still, would always love him.

She didn’t, however. Instead she began to speak softly in Lakota, “Please believe me. My heart is happy you are here. I have much longed to see you. But I must tell you that I cannot return to the prairie with you. I…”
Tell him. Tell him and let him leave.
“I…I cannot leave because…I am…”
Tell him.
She closed her eyes, unable to voice what she knew she must. “I have discovered that I may yet have parents living here.” She trembled and looked up to him. “The Duke and Duchess of Colchester,” she said, all at once in a hurry, “the people I am staying with, have found I may be related to them because I so closely resemble the Duke’s mother.” She paused, studying him, straining to see the effect her words had on him.

“Humph!” Black Bear stood before her, in front of the window, hands folded over his chest. “I fail to understand”—he moved a little, pacing toward her—“what this has to do with our vows.”

“Don’t you?”

He shrugged. “
Hiya
,”
he said, still treading toward her. “No.”

Estrela sighed.
Tell him now. Tell him the truth.
“I have never known my mother and father,” she said instead. “Not those who gave me birth,” Estrela added. “I have never known who I truly am. I have that chance now. The Duke of Colchester is tracing our lineage. Don’t you see?” she asked, glancing up at Black Bear as he had come to stand over her. “Until I discover who my parents are, I can go nowhere.”

He said nothing for a long while, simply looking down at her. At length, he spoke, saying, still in Lakota, “You wish to stay here where people shoot at you? Where there are enemies whom I cannot follow, whom I cannot see? You already have a father and mother in my country. Why do you need another?”

“I…” What could she say? She
did
have parents in the American West, adopted parents she loved. Estrela groaned inwardly at the half-truths she was speaking, though outwardly all she did was sigh. She searched within herself for explanation and at length said, “Be it good or bad, right or wrong, Black Bear, now that I know my natural parents might still live, I cannot turn my back on finding them. How can I explain it to you? I have a need to discover them, if only to talk with them for a moment.”

Black Bear stared down at her for a long while, as though debating between his need and his understanding of hers. She knew it would never occur to him that she told him only a partial truth. To him, she was Indian and no Indian ever lied—and certainly never withheld pertinent information.

At last he said, “So be it.” Then spinning about, he stepped away from her, across the room, to begin pacing back and forth. “Then I, too, will stay until you meet these people, if they truly exist. For Waste Ho, I will keep my promise to you. I am keeping my promise, even now. And I wonder, will you be true to your own vow?”

Unbecoming warmth flushed her face. And it was several moments before she was able to respond, “I—”

“Do you know,” Black Bear asked as though she hadn’t been about to speak, “who might want to kill you? Do you know why? If I am to be here, I will protect you, but in order to do that, I must know where the danger lies.”

“I…I don’t. And Black Bear I—”

“Do you know that I have dreamed of you? Of danger? Do you realize that I might be the only one who can avert a disaster to you?”

“Black Bear, I am sorry.”

It was odd, she was to think later. For at that very moment Black Bear looked as though he might have smiled at her. But instead, all he said was, “I know.”

“Children, children.” The Duchess of Colchester burst in upon her guests stepping lively into the room, followed by her two teenage daughters. And if she noticed the tension between Estrela and her Indian friend, she chose to ignore it. “Oh.” She stopped, causing both daughters to collide with each other, then with her. “Lady Estrela, I had hoped your wound was dressed by now. I have so much for us to do, so much for us to see. But then, I doubt that you would be able to accompany us, anyway. Oh, you poor, dear girl. What are we to do? Oh, I know. You must rest. That’s it, my dear. And don’t you worry about your Indian friend.” She led the party of three toward Black Bear, and stopping close to him, smiled up at him engagingly. Both daughters peered around her and giggled. “Why we’ll take such good care of Black Bear, you’ll be astounded. Don’t you worry. Now Black Bear, have you met my two daughters?”