Lakota Princess (3 page)

And so she looked away, not seeing that Mato Sapa, Black Bear, brave warrior of the Teton Brulé Tribe, signed back, vowing to love her, to protect her, to honor her always; in word, in thought, in deed.

But she didn’t see, she didn’t hear his shouted words above the noise of the crowd. She turned away instead, just as a storm wind blew up behind her.

As she left, she almost swore that the wind spoke to her, and if she listened closely, she could hear it speak as though it were Black Bear, saying, “You are mine. It is so now. It will always be so. Do not forget it.”

“M’lady?”

Estrela shook her head, pulling herself back to the present. What had come over her? How could she have let herself reminisce? It was useless now. She had nothing to gain from indulging in memory. Nothing. Not anymore. Once though, she…

She drew her hand over her heart, as though this action alone could erase the ache. If only it could be different. What would it have been like if the Earl hadn’t found her again, hadn’t demanded she return to England? If the Earl hadn’t forced her on his deathbed to vow—

She drew a deep breath. It was pointless to remember. Black Bear was not here. And she could not return—ever. Why torture herself?

Glancing around, Estrela saw the soft rays of light filtering into the room, and she looked out to catch a momentary glimpse of sunshine.

“Anna, what is wrong with me?” Her voice was so low it caused Anna to strain forward.

The maid paused. “I…er, ye…per’aps…”

“I cannot rid myself of
his
memory. I try. And yet it’s always there, and each time I think of
him,
the feelings are a little stronger, not less.”

“’im? I…are ye in love?”

“Yes, I…no…perhaps. I…yes.” She stopped, and staring down into the fragrant beauty of the stately garden below, she felt again the bitterness of something she could not change.

It had been sudden. The Earl of Langsford hadn’t expected to die on the return voyage to England, hadn’t expected his heart to fail him. And yet it had.

He’d had to act quickly; there hadn’t been time. And he’d had to convince his young charge; persuading her so thoroughly to do as he’d wanted that she’d had no choice but to break a vow; a vow she had made to Black Bear, a man she had loved—loved even still today.

A small sound escaped Estrela’s throat.

Why did she torture herself with this?

It had been so long ago. What did it matter now? It was all a part of the past she could not change.

Perhaps if the Earl had taken the time to explain things to her, she wouldn’t now feel this ache, wouldn’t now yearn for something she could never have.

It was not to be.

The Earl had been desperate. He’d shown her papers—legal papers—giving him the right to do what he asked of her. He had reasoned with her, pleading with her. He’d summoned the captain of their ship to his bedside.

But Estrela had remained adamant. She’d made a vow to her love, to Mato Sapa, Black Bear, and she couldn’t, she wouldn’t break it.

In the end, though, she had realized this was the Earl’s last request. He lay dying before her. He lay in pain. He’d pleaded with her. And Estrela, looking at him then, could not continue her argument. The Earl’s need had been more than hers.

And so she had done as he’d asked.

She had married.

Married a man by proxy. A man she had never met; a man she knew nothing about; a man she could not find.

She stood at the doors now and sighed.

She shouldn’t have thought about
him.
Hadn’t she learned, long ago, that thoughts of the American West,
his
memory brought pain? Hadn’t she taught herself to keep away from
his
memory? It was the wind that had done it today. It was the wind that had brought
him
back to her after so many years, carrying
his
scent to her. It was the breeze, which even now, seemed to whisper
his
name.

And though the Indians believed one should always listen to the wind, Estrela balked at doing so.

“M’lady? Please forgive me. I shouldna ’ave asked ye if ye still loved the man.”

Estrela felt Anna’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault,” Estrela said. “I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to stop thinking of
him.
I can’t stop thinking of my home on the plains. And this after all these years of carefully burying those memories.” She paused. “Yes, Anna,” she said. “I fell in love.”

Anna was quiet for several moments. At last, clearing her throat, she ventured, “Ye could return.”

Estrela might have cried. How many times had she wished that? But it was not to be. “I can never return,” she said. “I can never go back.”

“And why could ye not?”

“I broke a promise I’d made to someone there.”

“’Tis not a sin. Ye could still go back.”

“Anna.” Estrela squeezed the hand that still lay on her shoulder. “I made a vow to a man there to marry him. If I go back, I would have to marry him, and I can’t.”

“I still dunna understand. Did ye love t’is man?”

“Yes.”

“Then—”

“Anna,” Estrela cried, turning around. “I am married to another.”

Anna said nothing—not even a murmur.

“’Tis a long story.”

“I ’ave time.”

Estrela glanced at her friend briefly before setting her gaze onto something else. “You must swear to me that you will not repeat what I am to tell you. I was once told by a trusted friend that if anyone else knew of this, my life would be in grave danger.”

Anna nodded. “I swear. I am ’onored t’at ye would trust me so.”

Estrela, her glance focused elsewhere, hesitated only a moment, before saying, “The Earl of Langsford—have you ever heard of him?”

“No, Mistress.”

Estrela sighed. “He was friend of my grandfather and my mother, though I have no knowledge, or memory, of either. But my grandfather had enemies who forced the Earl to flee the country with me—to save my life. Why, I do not know—nor do I remember. The Earl, a true friend to me, died on the voyage back to England and whatever knowledge he had died with him. He was not ill, you understand. And perhaps he meant to tell me about my early life
and my family, about the man he insisted I marry, but he was unable to; his heart failed him, his final appeal to me being that I was to seek out the Duke of Colchester when I arrived in England if I could not find the man he forced me to marry.”

“I still dunna understand. Who did ye marry? Why?”

Estrela looked over her shoulder to the garden below. “I married someone named ‘Sir Connie’ as the Earl called him. I married him because the Earl insisted upon it. Insisted that if I did not do this, I would die when I reached England. I married him by proxy—the Earl having papers giving him this right.”

“And ye canna find this man ’ere in England? What is ’is full name?”

“I don’t know.”

Anna remained silent.

“I should have asked for the papers the Earl carried. I should have paid more attention to the marriage papers I signed. I was distraught at the time. Not only had my friend died, but I was married to a man I did not love, a man I do not know. Plus, I had broken a vow to a man back in the American West to whom I had promised to return, to marry. I should have paid more attention to the names, to the Earl. I didn’t. I thought I would have no trouble finding this ‘Sir Connie.’ The Earl made it appear as though this man would be waiting for me when I arrived in England. But this, too, was not to be. When I arrived here, no one met me at the docks, no one knew me or was there to help me.”

Anna gasped. “Why did ye never tell me this?”

“The Earl swore me to silence,” Estrela said. “He begged me to trust no one; only Sir Connie and the Duke of Colchester. I could not find Sir Connie, and so I came to the Duke of Colchester’s home. And you know the rest of the story. No one here knew me, and I was pressed into service for these past five years in order to survive. In truth, I didn’t mind it. The work kept me from thinking, kept me from the pain of remembering.”

“Did ye ever return to t’ ship? Would not t’ captain there ’ave knowledge of t’ man ye married?”

Estrela smiled, though the gesture contained no humor. “A servant has little free time, as you know. As soon as I could, I sought out the ship, the captain of the ship, but I was too late. The ship had sailed and I could find no trace of the captain, the papers, the marriage.”

“Per’aps ye are not truly married. T’ marriage is not consummated. Ye could still—”

“Perhaps. Yet I am still bound. The Earl made me promise to find Sir Connie. Made me promise to tell him all that had happened; made me vow before God to honor the marriage. No, I am truly bound; bound by my promise to a friend—unable to fulfill a vow made to another.”

Anna stood before her friend, her silence encouraging Estrela to continue.

“’Tis all I know,” Estrela said, “except one other thing. I possess dim memories of a childhood where it appears I played amidst great wealth. Only since I have been here in England do these memories haunt me. Before this, they were hidden to me.”

Anna gasped. “Estrela, ye ’ave spoken of danger. I fear fer ye. ’Tis odd. From t’ first moment I met ye, I ’ave felt there was menace for ye. But until now I ’ave thought it was only my own fears.”

Estrela stared at her friend. “I did not tell you this for you to worry. I do know that as long as I remain with the Duke of Colchester, I am safe. But safe from what? If only I could remember. Perhaps the answer lies in Sir Connie. The man I cannot find. The man I married.”

Neither Lady nor maid spoke, letting those final words fade into the room as though never voiced.

At length, Anna reached out and squeezed her mistress’s hand. “’Ave ye asked the Duke of Colchester about this Sir Connie?”

“Yes,” Estrela said. “But the Duke looked vague, thought it over and said no. He told me the name sounded as though it were a nickname. A nickname! He could be anybody—or he might not even be in England and I…” Estrela released her hand from that of her friend’s and looked away. “It doesn’t matter, anymore. By not returning to the Americas at once, the man I love will probably be married by now. And I must learn to live with nothing but my memories of him. ’Tis not so difficult. Besides, as I have said, through the Duke, I have learned that I may yet have family here. I know that the Duke is determined to discover just how it is that I am related to his family. And this, perhaps only this, gives me reason to live, reason to stay here, reason to keep looking for—Sir Connie.”

“I dunna know, m’ friend,” Anna said. “If ye still carry these feelings fer this man back in t’ Colonies, per’aps ’e still cares fer ye too. Per’aps ye should go back there if that is where yer ’eart is.”

“No, Anna. I cannot. I cannot follow my heart. I cannot return. I cannot face
him
.”
Estrela hesitated. “I made a vow to one man, Anna. I broke a vow to another. But what was I to do? It was the Earl’s dying request. I could not say no. And now, I could no more end my pledge to the Earl than I could…”

Estrela didn’t finish and Anna didn’t speak out at once. At length, Anna said, “Ye will look fer yer family ’ere, then, look for this Sir Connie?”

“Yes.” Estrela nodded. “In truth, it may be all that I have or will ever have. For I cannot marry the man of my own choosing, the man I promised to marry, the man who probably hates me now.”

Anna remained silent for several moments before she at last said, “Yes, M’lady.”

Estrela suddenly looked to her friend. “Why do you call me, M’lady? Anna, you are my best friend. It has been so ever since I arrived in England. You are my lady’s maid because I’ve asked for you. In public, you are my maid, if need be, but in private, you are my friend.”

“Yes, M’lady,” Anna said, staring away. “It will be ’ard. Ye must realize that ye are a lady of position now. ’Tis not done to ’ave a friend from the lower classes. Please forgive me, M’lady, but ’tis best that ye understand this now. We were…” Anna gazed back at her mistress, “…best friends. Once we were t’ grandest of friends.”

“The best,” Lady Estrela said. “And friends we are still. Good friends. This will not change. I will not allow it.”

Anna paused, then, looking into Estrela’s eyes, she said, “I dunna think so. But I appreciate yer loyalty to me. Ye may ’ave a change of ’eart. Ye are still too new to t’ ways of t’ court.”

Estrela kept her gaze steady as she said, “And if these ‘ways’ insist that I break a friendship, then may I never learn them.”

A moment passed, another, as both girls stared at one another until at last Anna grasped her friend’s hand firmly in her own.

Estrela drew a deep breath. “Come, Anna. I linger here a little too long, I think. The royal parade will not wait for me and I cannot keep His Grace waiting. He has been too kind to me. Will you help me with the dress? I do not understand these styles.”

Anna smiled, saying, “Yes, M’lady.” Then she picked up the pale blue gown, but before she explained the latest styles of the English court, she said, “Do not give up ’ope, m’friend. There may yet be a way out. ’Tis always ’ope.”

Estrela shrugged and though she couldn’t fully share Anna’s optimism, she repeated, “Yes, Anna. ’Tis always hope.”

And as Estrela dressed, she forced her attention into the present; her movements, her actions intended to sweep all thoughts of
him
from her mind.

But Estrela, completely honest with herself, admitted total and utter defeat.

The tall, dark man with long, black hair and Indian dress stared out into the foreign, English port, while above him gray clouds hung in a dreary sort of welcome. The town that he observed from this, his prime vantage point, with its bustling occupants and horse-pulled carriages, looked much the same as the town they had departed by ship so many months ago. Looked the same, yes, but this town certainly did not smell the same. The man resisted the urge to hold his nose, instead he sniffed at the air, heavy with moisture. He coughed and made a pledge at that moment to stay away from the water in this place.