Sioux Slave (30 page)

Lenore glared at Kimi. “For pity's sake! So what do we do about her?”

“That's not a charitable attitude toward your sister,” Elizabeth said.

“Sister?” Lenore was no longer the cooing flirt. Her voice rose like a fish wife. Are you really going to accept this–this savage as my sister?”

The judge smiled. “Perhaps you didn't understand your grandmother, my dear. Laurel or Kimi, or whatever name she goes by, is a Carstairs.” He turned to Kimi. “Of course beginning tonight, your grandmother will expect you to live here.”

Kimi was so overcome with emotion that she couldn't speak for a long moment.
“Pilamaya,”
she managed to say finally. She didn't know what to think and she was overwhelmed by all of this.

 

 

They got through the rest of the evening and dinner with Kimi almost in a daze. All she could think of was that now she was on an equal footing with Lenore. Did that mean she had a chance with Rand? Not the way his mother was giving Kimi black looks.

Shelby Merson and then the Eriksons departed, Rand whispering softly that they would talk later.

Lenore had flounced off to bed in a huff, saying she still didn't believe this poor white trash could possibly be a Carstairs.

Kimi still felt in a state of shock and disbelief as she looked from the judge to the white-haired lady.

Pierce Hamilton took both her hands in his. “Welcome home, Laurel. Your grandmother has waited so long for this. If you only knew . . .”

She waited for him to go on, but instead he cleared his throat, and fumbled with his pipe.

She was abruptly weary. Her grandmother seemed to notice and motioned for the judge to ring for a servant. A maid escorted Kimi up to a sumptuous room, complete with a delicate lace nightdress and a promise of dozens of lovely dresses as soon as possible. Kimi lay staring at the ceiling a long time, thinking of her father whom she could barely remember. Only one thing more seemed important to her; if she were indeed a Carstairs, would the snooty friends of both families accept her and now would she have a chance of upsetting Mrs. Erikson's plans and marrying Rand?

On the other hand, did she want him if he would only consider marrying her after he found out she was from a wealthy, blue-blooded family and would undoubtedly come into half the Carstairs' estate?

 

 

Lenore tiptoed down the dark stairs barefooted. She couldn't sleep after what had happened here this evening, and she wanted a glass of milk and a piece of pecan pie. The house was quiet but a light shone under the closed music room door. Just what was happening? Was that little savage going through Grandmother's things? If she could catch that Kimi up to no good, she might convince Grandmother to toss the twit out. She didn't know and didn't care whether this savage was in reality her baby sister. While she didn't know how she was going to do it just yet, Lenore had no intentions of sharing the Carstairs wealth or Rand Erikson with Kimi.

As for her parents, if they were dead out there somewhere in the wilderness, Lenore had lost interest in that subject long ago. Mostly she was interested in herself and how events affected her own welfare. Why had this Kimi turned up just when Lenore had things going her way? She'd had such great plans to marry Rand, continue sleeping with Shelby, and bide her time until Grandmother died or Lenore figured out how to place her at Rose Haven so Lenore would have a free hand with the estate. As for old Nero, she intended to fire him the moment Grandmother was out of the way. She had never liked the tattooed black servant anyway, and he certainly had no loyalty to her.

When she tiptoed to the music room door and listened, she recognized Grandmother and Judge Hamilton's voices. Lenore had a talent for eavesdropping. She peeked through the keyhole and watched them eating a late supper in front of the cozy fire.

Pierce Hamilton wiped his mustache with his napkin. “So now what do you intend to do about your estate? I suggest you divide it equally between them, so there won't be any gossip later as there would be if it all goes to the one.”

Elizabeth Carstairs paused with her tea cup at her lips. “I don't know. I suppose you're right, but my heart's not in it. Dead. Hard to believe.” She sighed audibly. “I thought maybe they'd been afraid to contact me, afraid that the secret had come out and the law was looking for him.”

The judge filled his pipe and lit it thoughtfully. “How much do you suppose Lenore remembers of that night? After all, she was five years old.”

“Not much, I think.” Grandmother stared into the fire. “She mentioned the thunder this evening; I think that's all she recalls.”

He blew savory smoke toward the ceiling, sipped his coffee. “Maybe we shouldn't have tried to cover it up.”

“I have no regrets.” She looked at him. “I would do anything, anything to protect the Carstairs name from scandal.” There was steely resolve in her voice.

“Great Caesar's ghost.” He nodded in understanding. “Don't you think I know that? Still and all, it's been a terrible thing for you to deal with all these years.”

“No more than you, Pierce. Whether it was an accident or not, if your part in it ever came out, you would be disgraced.”

“I would help you all over again, Elizabeth. I love you; I've always loved you. Your husband was my best friend, and I did all I could in helping rear his son. Jim was the son I never had, and the one I might have had if I had met you before your husband did.”

She reached out and patted his hand absently. “You're a dear friend, Pierce, but no man ever had a chance after I met him. If something should happen to me, remember that I wanted you to turn Carstairs Oaks into a school or a home for the underprivileged. You should go into politics. This country needs men like you.”

“Don't talk that way, my dear,” he laughed and puffed his pipe. “You act as if you know something I don't know.”

“Do I?”

The fox hound pup got up from before the fire, yawned and stretched, and ambled over to beg off her plate. She fed it a bite. “I suppose I will let you change my will. Give each girl half. That way, my granddaughter will be protected from scandal. As you said, people will whisper if I leave one out. While it upsets me to see my money go to that gambler's offspring, I must protect my family name at any cost. No one, not even the two girls must know that one of them is not really a Carstairs!”

Lenore gasped in surprise. So that was why her Grandmother was so willing to accept that Kimi into the family. Lenore just barely remembered that Daddy was sometimes gone into Louisville on business, and sometimes, when he was gone, another man came to call on Camelia. Once she had seen them kissing in the dark on the east lawn. She searched her memory. He was dark, too, and handsome. What could she remember from that final night? Spring, very warm. Her upstairs bedroom looked out over the east lawn and her window was open. Angry voices. A scream. Thunder. What had happened?

Lenore tried to recall more, but she only remembered putting her pillow over her head and going back to sleep. Had Camelia and her lover done something terrible to Daddy and then fled with their bastard baby?

Would Elizabeth Carstairs help cover up something like the murder of her own son? To protect the Carstairs name, and reputation, the old lady was capable of anything. With a smug smile, Lenore tiptoed back up to her room to think and plan. She wasn't sure how she was going to use this newfound knowledge yet, but one thing she did know for sure–Lenore wasn't about to share her inheritance with her mother's bastard by some white trash gambler. No, she wouldn't share, not even to protect the family name. When it came to a choice, Lenore would rather have the money,
all
of it.

Blackmail. Whatever had happened that long ago night, Grandmother and Judge Hamilton were hiding at least a scandal, and maybe a crime. Lenore lay in bed and smiled with satisfaction. She wanted not only all the inheritance but a chance to get rid of her bastard sister so that Rand would never be tempted by her again. And Saturday night, Lenore would announce her engagement to Rand Erikson at the autumn ball.

Kimi awakened at the sound of the door chimes downstairs and looked around. Where was she? Her gaze swept over the elegant spacious bedroom. Then everything came flooding back. Yes, there was something familiar about this room after all these years. While she remembered little else about her past besides what she had told her grandmother, she did recognize the old bedroom. Laurel Carstairs. She was rich and from an acceptable family. Did that mean that now she could become Mrs. Rand Erikson? And yet ... Kimi had a conscience. Could she wreck her newly found sister's future marriage, no matter how mean Lenore had been to her?

Stretching and yawning, she reached for a delicate velvet robe. Someone knocked on the door.

“Miz Laurel?” One of the young maids.

“Yes?”

“Marse Rand is here.”

Kimi hesitated. Did he want her now that she might meet with his mother's approval? Would he have cared enough to defy his family and marry her anyway even if she hadn't? The knowledge that now she might never know annoyed and troubled her as much as the fact that he was her sister's fiancée. “Tell him I'll be down in a minute.”

What should she wear? The wardrobe was full of Lenore's old clothes, most of them still lovely. The biggest problem with being a civilized girl was all the miserable tight corsets. Besides that, she was beginning to think they had too many rules to live by and never had any fun. She had been much happier among the Indians. She got dressed but had to wear the old shoes Vanessa had given her. Lenore's were much too large for Kimi's small feet.

She went down to greet Rand, who sat in the conservatory. He looked handsome in his expensive, handmade clothes that fitted his wide shoulders and accentuated his trim body. He'd left the French doors open and the fox hound puppy was sniffing and digging under the camelia bush.

“Hello, Rand, I've asked the maid to have Nero bring some coffee, sweet rolls, and fresh fruit out for us.”

He rose, took both her hands in his. “Hello Kimi, or should I call you Laurel?”

She shook her head. “I honestly don't know who I am any more, but I still think of myself as Kimi. None of this seems very real.”

“But this is every girl's dream, to wake up rich with a fine house and beautiful clothes,” he reminded her.

“Is it?” The stays of the corset seemed to be cutting into her flesh. She noticed the puppy, the dirt flying. “Oh my! Tally Ho, stop that! You'll dig up Nana's flowers and she'll be very upset!” She looked at the bush thoughtfully, remembering. “White camellias were my mother's favorite flower.”

The puppy had stopped digging at her reprimand. Just then, Nero came in with a silver tray full of delicacies and saw the fresh dirt. “That dog! Pup, you better stop! Miz Elizabeth goan' be real mad!” He set the tray down on the wicker table and gathered the puppy up in his arms. “Miz Elizabeth don't 'low him in here.”

“I can see why.” Rand laughed and slapped his quirt against his leg absently as Nero went out the French doors, carrying the dog.

Kimi poured them both some coffee from the ornate silver pot. “Cream?”

He shook his head and accepted the delicate china cup.

She poured fresh cream into her own strong coffee and tasted it. On this crisp autumn morning, it tasted good. They breakfasted in silence, Kimi spreading fresh butter and homemade blackberry jam on her roll. “So how did your mother and sister react on the drive home last night?”

“Need you ask?” He stared down at his cup. “About the way Lenore did, I reckon. They aren't convinced you aren't a fake and even if you aren't, they prefer Lenore because, as my mother says, ‘anyone can tell she's really a Carstairs. Class and breeding shows.' ”

“I suppose it does. Your sister, Lenore, and most of your social set have been terribly rude and cruel to me ever since I arrived. There are some things money and good finishing schools can't buy.” She set her cup on the fine silver tray, debated with herself as to whether to tell him about the conversation with his mother, and decided against it.

“I'm sorry, Kimi, I know everyone's been beastly to you.” He set his cup aside, took her hand in his. “I think everyone will be very friendly from now on.”

“Because now I have money, and that makes a difference, doesn't it? And they call the Sioux ‘savages.' ” She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice, and failed. She pulled her hand from his. “I suppose even your mother might eventually find me acceptable, since she figures the Carstairs estate is sizable and I'll be an heir.”

He looked a little sheepish. “Life here doesn't seem as satisfying as I remember it. I don't think things have changed much, but maybe I have.” He flexed his shoulders as if his muscles were tense.

She looked around at the beautiful greenery, the flowers, the ornate silver and china on the wicker table. For a long moment, she thought of the simple, satisfying life they had shared in their own tipi. She missed that.

Rand picked up his quirt and slapped it against his leg absently. “I'd forgotten how many rules and regulations we have to live by in white society. Life seemed so much freer and more enjoyable when I was among the Sioux. And I miss One Eye, Gopher, and Saved By the Wolf.” He looked at her eagerly. “You know what I'd like to do? Why don't we get a picnic basket and go to the creek for the afternoon?”

For a moment, her mood brightened, then she remembered and shook her head. “I can't. Appointment with the dressmaker and a trip into the village to look at fabrics and calling cards and all the rest of the things white society girls require. I'm supposed to have a dress for the ball that will turn every girl in the county green with envy.”

“You don't sound too happy about it.”

“I miss our wild, free days among the Lakota, too.”

“Mother is insisting on announcing my engagement to Lenore at the ball. She's threatening to disinherit me if I don't fall into line.”

“Are you going to be like your father, Rand?”

“What?” He appeared puzzled and she knew he didn't know. She looked at him a long moment, so civilized and dressed like a rich white man's son, sitting there comfortably looking the part of the country squire after a rich breakfast served with the best crystal and china.

Abruptly she realized that she wasn't in love with the oh, so civilized and so impeccably dressed Rand Erikson; she was in love with Hinzi, the white warrior. She had a fleeting vision of his brawny, hairy chest, his painted face as he swept her up and carried her into his tipi. That was the man she loved–decisive, commanding, strong. “Rand, what are you doing sitting here? You're engaged to my sister. There'll be hell to pay if she comes downstairs and finds you with me.”

He took both her hands in his. “Kimi, I love you.”

She couldn't resist hurting him as he had hurt her. “Now that I'm a Carstairs, you say that. Otherwise, you would have kept me for a mistress.”

“That's not true. I'm going to have a talk with my mother about breaking the engagement, then I'll have to tell Lenore. Maybe I won't be disinherited.”

It occurred to her that he would expect that Kimi would get a sizable inheritance, so it wouldn't be such a great sacrifice for him. Like his father, he would live off his wife's money. “Breaking the engagement will be embarrassing; everyone's expecting the announcement.”

“Would you believe I don't give a damn?” He looked out of sorts.

She shook her head. “Think about it a long time, Rand. Even with the Carstairs money and background, some of your friends and relatives will never accept me. Life could be very miserable for both of us.”

“You can learn to be everything Lenore is; you're smarter and prettier. You can show them all.”

Now it was her time to sigh pensively. “Would you believe I don't give a damn about showing them all? I think we've maybe got a chasm here we can't cross, Rand. Maybe you belong with Lenore after all.”

“Are you saying you don't love me?” He put his hands on her shoulders, pulled her to him.

“I don't know what I'm saying.” She looked up at him and he seemed almost a stranger to her, this impeccably groomed and well-dressed white man. Did he love her as she was or did he want Laurel Carstairs? Could she ever be that girl? Did she want to be?

And then he kissed her and she clung to him, remembering all the nights she had spent in his arms, their passionate lovemaking.

“Kimi,” he whispered, “oh, Kimi, you can be Laurel Carstairs if only you'll put your mind to it! We can have a good life together. You'll learn to read and to waltz and all the other things ladies do.”

Ladies. White ladies with their corsets and silly hoop skirts, their mincing, prissy gaits and sidesaddles. She pulled away from him, troubled. “Don't do anything yet until we've both had a chance to think some more.”

“What's there to think about?” His expression was intense, aroused.

“Such things can't be decided on the spur of the moment. I'm not sure whether this girl you think you love is a Sioux named Kimimila or a wealthy belle named Laurel Carstairs.”

“Don't talk in riddles; they're one in the same.”

She shook her head sadly. “No, Rand, I'm not sure they are. I have a lot of thinking of my own to do.” She stood up. He stood up, too, and for a long moment, she thought he would take her in his arms. She stepped away from him to discourage that. If he embraced her, that would sway her judgement and lose her control in an eddy of passion. To take her sister's fiancée would create terrible problems for Kimi, and she wasn't sure his family would ever forgive her. She wasn't sure what her grandmother and the judge would say and their opinions mattered very much to her.

“You need to go; we both have thinking to do,” she said again.

“All right, I'll go. Let me know when you're ready to talk.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it, then turned and left.

Kimi went back to her room, torn with indecision. Should she listen to her heart or her brain? At least she didn't have to decide anything definite today. She needed to get dressed to go to the dressmaker's. Judge Hamilton had offered to drive her and her grandmother there.

 

 

Shelby watched the buggy driving away from the house from where he sat his horse in the shade of a tree. The old lady, the judge, and that pretty girl who'd been raised by the Injuns. Word had spread fast that she was the missing Carstairs heiress. God, he'd like a chance to get her clothes off!

Shelby waited until the buggy had disappeared from sight, then rode around to the conservatory. He knew Lenore's room was right over that. He whistled and tossed pebbles against the window until she stuck her head out and motioned for him to join her in the conservatory.

He tilted his hat at a jaunty angle, went in, and flopped down on the wicker settee. Lenore was a nice enough kid, so was Vanessa Erikson. If he could figure out a way to do it, Shelby would like to end up with the money from both estates and sleep with all three of the girls.

Sweet Jesus, he had really struck a gold mine! Here he had come snooping around this area looking for clues to his missing brother-in-law, and had fallen into all this money and eager women.

Rand was a fly in the ointment. When Shelby had said he'd investigate Rand's whereabouts during the months Rand was missing, he'd lied. Shelby knew Jon Erikson had the money to rescue his son if he found him, and Shelby hoped that Rand was either already dead or rotting away in some military prison. Matter of fact, Shelby had managed to intercept what little mail got through. It would have been so much easier if Vanessa's brother were dead. He rode around to the conservatory and went in.

Lenore hurried through the French doors. “Oh, Shelby, you shouldn't have come. I don't know how long they'll be gone to the dressmaker's.”

“For you, honey, any risk is worth it!” He knew what women wanted to hear. He caught her hand and pulled her down beside him and nuzzled her neck. “So tell me what the latest gossip is about the Injun being your long-lost sister?”

Lenore frowned. “For pity's sake, I swear servant gossip travels faster than the telegraph. Grandmother believes her. I think the girl's a fake.”

“If Grandma believes her, that's what counts. She's the one with the money.” He thought about the irony of it all. All he'd been trying to do was track down his brother-in-law who had run out on his sister so long ago. Not that he gave a damn about his now dead sister, he just remembered something Clint had laughed about....

“It was all so mysterious that night my mother and Father went away,” Lenore mused.

“Oh?” What did this chit know that might give him a clue?

“I was only five years old,” Lenore said, “but I think my mother was seeing another man when my father was away on business.”

Shelby laughed and ran his hand through his greasy hair. “When the cat's away . . .”

“For pity's sake, don't be crude,” Lenore snapped and played with her fan.

“Tell me about that night,” he urged.

“I remember angry words that woke me up,” Lenore said, looking at the camelia bush. “It was warm outside and my window was open. Something was happening on the lawn below my room. That was before the conservatory was built.”

He tried not to look too interested. “Did you ever see this other man?”

She shook her head. “Only from a distance. I wouldn't recognize him; handsome, black hair.”

And big feet
, Shelby remembered. He had suspected Rose Erikson might be the woman. Couldn't tell it now, but he'd heard she had been a beauty a long time ago. “Did you recognize the voices?” Again she shook her head, “I don't even know what happened after that. There was thunder and I was scared so I hid under my pillow.”