Lakota Princess (20 page)

Estrela leaned forward, wondering if her mouth had dropped open the required two inches to show her bewilderment. She attempted to speak, but truly, words seemed to have fled her and “I…” was all she could manage.

“Did you grow up with them?”

“Did they try to scalp you?”

“Did you ever see anyone tortured? Here sit next to me. Tell me all the details…”

“Ah, well I see you have all met.” The Duchess of Colchester, followed by her daughters, hurried into the breakfast parlor, creating a stir, enlivening the atmosphere around them, bringing with her more confusion. “Oh, you poor, dear girl,” she addressed Estrela, “how are you feeling now that we’ve whisked you away from London? I do so hope you will find our estate here more peaceful and comforting than the trying atmosphere of London. Girls, take your places at the table,” she said to her daughters, then turning back to Estrela, she said, “as you can see we have company. I must say your Indian is quite an attraction. And oh, don’t we have so much to do? I do hope you’ve met the young ladies here, and there are ever so many more people expected to arrive today. And where is your Indian friend? So noble a fellow. He does plan to join us today, does he not? Why, already the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge have accepted our invitation to the ball I’m planning—they are so dying to meet with your Indian, don’t you know, and I expect, dear, that at this pace we might even expect a visit from the King himself. Oh, imagine…” the Duchess here left off briefly, picking up her longish gown and pacing forward hurriedly, “…imagine, King William and Queen Adelaide coming here—to visit me. Why, I do expect I might become the most sought-after person in all of England. Here, dear,” she said to Estrela, seeming oblivious to the fact that Estrela sat, unable to absorb most of what she said, “have you had your breakfast?”

It took several moments for Estrela to put her thoughts together, just the pause her Grace was awaiting, it seeming to give her permission to speak.

“Ah, but of course you have had breakfast,” the Duchess continued. “You are an early riser, after all. But come, sit here next to me while we plan our day. I do so hope you can convince your Indian to join us and to meet all the wonderful people who will be visiting us.”

“I…” Estrela did not rise from her seat, she did, however, answer the Duchess, saying, “I believe you must ask Black Bear this, yourself.”

The Duchess looked contrite. “No, dear,” she said. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. You see, I have already asked him and he has declined. I was wondering…” Here the Duchess lifted her gaze to Estrela. “I was wondering if you might have some influence over him and if you could ask him to meet the people who are coming here. They are, after all, mostly visiting us in an effort to see him. He is in much demand, you know.”

“He is?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Why?”

“Why?” The Duchess looked as though the simple question might cause her to faint although luckily, she was seated and no such occurrence took place. “Ah, such a pretty thing you are, my dear,” she said, recovering at once, “but such incomprehension of…why, bless me but there I go again, you poor, dear girl. I forget that you have not been with us long. Pray, forgive my ill manners. I do so pity your background, to know that somewhere you have a noble family, and yet to have been raised in the wilderness away from all this…this civilization. Well, it is no wonder that you don’t see it. Why, my dear, your Indian is the most popular man in all of England after he made such a daring rescue of you last week on the mall and then in Hyde Park only a few days ago. Why, all of London is talking, you know. And oh, my, bless me, but it is my good fortune to have him living here in my home, under the protection and guardianship of my husband. Ah, what a handsome fellow he is—and so noble. How can you doubt that he is so popular?”

“I—”

“Here he is now. Come, dear,” she said to Estrela, as the Duchess rose to step around the table and greet Black Bear, “won’t you please help me?”

“Black Bear, please sit with me.”

“No, I want him to sit next to me,” one of the other women whined.

“You had him at dinner last night. I get him this morning.”

“He’s mine at the table, didn’t I say so before we came down to breakfast?”

“No. I’d like him to sit with me.”

Estrela thought her head might likely burst from the incomprehension of it all. Never had she seen anything like this. Never would she have expected such a thing. And as Black Bear stepped into the room, the clatter for his attention rose to such a crescendo, Estrela thought she might likely cover her ears. Courtesy, however, forbade her this small pleasure.

What was happening here?

How could Black Bear have made such a favorable impression on so many people and in such a short time?

She recalled again the journey to Shelburne Hall. It had taken them two days traveling time to reach the estate, and on the first evening that they had spent at an Inn, Estrela had shared a room with the women, Black Bear with the men.

But Estrela hadn’t slept much that night, had lain in her bed with her eyes open, pondering her predicament. Perhaps the reason for such unrest lay in the fact that she had spent a good part of the day traveling in the coach, being held in Black Bear’s arms and sleeping, his arms around her, his presence a soothing balm.

But that night, alone, she had run over and over in her mind what was happening with her, with him, seeking possible solutions to their problems; for it was obvious that what she was doing was not solving her dilemma, not at all.

And so she hadn’t slept.

But that next day had found Black Bear mounted upon his gelding, his ride in the carriage at an end, and Estrela had been unable to tell him what she had decided: that whatever was between them, whatever the attraction, must end.

No. Instead she had moodily watched him from her seat within the carriage, watched him ride up ahead, laugh with the men and the servants, and boast of his skill by sending arrows into the sky, as many as twenty at a time.

And Estrela had realized, quite unhappily at that moment, that there was no escaping him, no sending him away, no running away.

Even if she never saw him again the rest of her life, it wouldn’t matter.

She loved him. She would always love him.

No matter where he was, no matter where she was, he would be with her. If not in physical presence, then within her heart.

Forever.

It had been a daunting, sobering admission.

And though the rest of the journey had been made in relative peace, within Estrela burned a fire, one that she intended to ignore, to bank for as long as she possibly could.

Truly, she had no other choice.

And so it was with great mixed emotions that Estrela greeted Black Bear now.

She gazed at him, and her stomach plunged at the sight of him, her senses spinning. Rising tall and dark among the splendor of the English wealth, he presented an enticing picture of perfect staid, English dress with a complement of long hair, feathers, and beads. It was an enticing combination of continental elegance and backwoods, American charm. His chin bore absolutely no trace of whiskers and his black eyes, as he entered the room, looked everywhere, gazed at everything, the man memorizing his environment at a glance.

He appeared foreign, wild, and utterly male; the unrestrained quality of him barely tamed and Estrela recognized, for the first time, just what it was about him that was creating such a stir.

And she sighed; she, too, was a victim of his magnetism.

“Ah, Black Bear.” It was the Duchess who spoke, interrupting Estrela’s thoughts. “My dear boy, come and sit by me, won’t you? I do so need to talk with you.”

Black Bear acknowledged the Duchess with a quick glance and a nod, but Estrela saw that his attention caught and held onto her. Black Bear did not even glance at the rest of the occupants of the room. And Estrela, shifting uncomfortably, wondered at his continued observation. She looked away.

But it was impossible to ignore the man, the clamor for his attention alone bringing continued awareness of him.

“No, come and sit with me,” she heard a high-pitched voice demand.

“Me first.”

“I saw him before you did. Here, with me, Black Bear.”

“What do you know? He’s mine today. I claimed I would have him only this morning.”

But Estrela saw that Black Bear ignored them all, saw that he watched
her,
observed his roguish grin at her, causing her to wonder what he was about when he all at once said, “I believe I will sit here,” choosing a chair to Estrela’s left. “And,” he said into a silent room where each one present seemed to hang onto his every word. “I hope you are all well-settled.”

“Oh, yes, quite.”

“Yes, but I—”

“We are.”

“Good, then,” Black Bear said, and then after a moment, ensuring he had everyone’s attention, he began, “I was wondering if you all might enjoy an old Indian story as we sit here in each other’s company with this feast of meat and eggs.”

Estrela shook her head slowly, glancing up toward the, ceiling.

“Oh, how exciting!”

“Yes, please, pray tell!”

“Here, sit next to me and tell it.”

“No, I—”

“Please.” Black Bear held up a hand. “It is the custom in my village that when a person talks, others listen.” And to the “ohs” that filtered around the table, Black Bear continued, “I have already been at the hunt this morning. I caught much game and I have found your land to provide much meat. But,” he lowered his voice as he said, “this morning I found a beautiful goose—”

“Black Bear!”

“Oh, how lovely.”

“Tell us more.”

“Did you sacrifice it?”

He grinned. “And do you know,” he continued, ignoring all the comments, “I found the goose to be without a single gander to protect her. And after she’d had so many. Do you suppose she did not learn from her mistake? A most unwise goose. For had I desired her meat, I could have made a feast of goose flesh for our supper tonight.”

He turned his head then and stared directly at Estrela.

“Ah, Black Bear, please tell the whole story.”

“Yes, please.”

“Well, I’d like to know if you have ever scalped an enemy.”

“Oh, you silly, no. Please, tell us the story.”

He smiled and gazing about the table he said, “I entertained you last night with my stories. I believe it is time for Waste Ho to speak to you now about this particular tale. I think she could tell it better than I could since she has so much experience with it. Perhaps she can tell you why the goose is so silly that she cannot pick a mate and stay with him.”

“Who’s Waste Ho?”

“Oh, an Indian name, may I have one, please?”

“Is that Lady Estrela? Would you know any stories, Lady Estrela?”

“What does it mean, Waste Ho?”

“Did you ever torture an enemy? I’d like to hear about that.”

Estrela shut her eyes, then opening them, she looked about the breakfast table, seeing everyone there except, of course, the person sitting directly on her left, to whom she was expending so much energy ignoring.

“Oh, I daresay, Lady Estrela, tell us a story.”

“Yes, please.”

Estrela cleared her throat and sweeping her gaze once more around the table, said at last, “I will tell a story, if you all would like it.”

“Oh, yes, please.”

“Pray, believe me, we do.”

“Yes, well,” she said, “have you heard the story about the silly goose who couldn’t decide on her mate?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, a truly great story it is, too.”

“Is this a story about her?”

“Well,” Estrela said, “it’s a bit about her, but it’s more about the pompous, arrogant, self-satisfied gander who didn’t have the intelligence to listen to the goose.”

“Oh, how wonderful!”

“Do tell us.”

“It sounds a marvelous story. Do tell it.”

“Is it an Indian story?”

“Well, it is a bit like an Indian story,” she said, ignoring Black Bear’s glower at her. “It goes like this. Once there was a gander…”

“Why should he listen to her?” It was Black Bear who spoke.

“Because,” Estrela said, “she might have something to say to him, that if he would only listen, might make a difference to him.”

“Would it explain,” Black Bear asked, drawing everyone’s attention to him where he sat next to her, “why she desires more than one mate?”

And though others at the table gasped, Estrela sat her ground. “Perhaps,” she said, her chin thrust forward. “Perhaps she doesn’t desire more than one mate, perhaps she only—”

“Then why does she flirt when she is already taken?”

“Taken?” It was the Duchess of Colchester who spoke. “I thought she couldn’t make up her mind.”

“Do you want to hear this story or should I tell one about the Trickster?” She glared at the Duchess of Colchester, who sputtered and Estrela was at once contrite. “So sorry,” she said. “I forgot that ’tis only a mere story.”

“What is this about Trickster?”

“Who is Trickster?”

“Oh, how lovely. Please tell us that story.”

“Yes,
it sounds fascinating.”

“I’d like to hear about scalping and about…”

“Oh, do be quiet.” It was one of the other ladies who spoke.

Estrela sighed. “Do you know who the Trickster is?”

“No.”

“Please tell us.”

“Well,” Estrela said, “Trickster is a legend in Indian culture. He is part hero, part god, is human and animal at the same time. He can take any form and one has to be careful when dealing with him, because one never knows what he will do.”

“Oh, how endearing.”

“Yes, pray continue.”

“Well, this story is about Trickster in the form of a coyote. Now, Trickster loved to play tricks on unwitting people and animals and so many a story has been told about him.” She glanced at Black Bear, but noticing he said nothing for the moment, she continued. “This story begins with the day Trickster took a walk along the Big Muddy.”

“The Big Muddy?”

“The Missouri River, a wide, muddy river on the American frontier.”

“Oh.”

“Yes,” Estrela said. “Now as he walked along, Trickster came upon an eagle with a broken wing.”