Dakota Dreams (Historical Romance) (21 page)

Like children, the villagers listened to the young Viscount's words, finding them just and merciful. In silence, they watched Dakota mount his horse and ride away beside his friend, Levi.

For many generations to come, the villagers and their descendants would talk of this day's victory and of the young lord who led them in their fight.

20

It had been three weeks since the confrontation with the Earl and his villagers. Word came from Weatherford Village that the fishermen were once again fishing their waters, thus bringing prosperity back to their families.

Levi had told Breanna some of what had transpired that eventful day, since Dakota seemed reluctant to discuss the incident with her. She was awed by her husband's understanding of the villagers' plight, and his quick solution to their problem.

The last time she and Dakota had ridden into Weatherford Village, Breanna had been aware that the atmosphere had changed. It was as if the village had been reborn. Men were mending their nets and repairing their boats, making ready to set out to sea, while the women and children joyously went about their daily tasks.

The villagers had rallied around Dakota and Breanna, welcoming them with loud cheers and smiles. The pride Breanna saw on the women's faces was echoed on her own. It was a moment she was never to forget.

***

Breanna and Dakota still resided at the hunting lodge, which she secretly thought of as their honeymoon cottage. She dreaded the day they would return to Weatherford Hall, because at the lodge she had her husband all to herself.

Much of their days were spent in search of knowledge. Dakota had infected her with his unquenchable hunger for learning. The floor in their bedroom was littered with books that he had brought from the library at Weatherford Hall. She would often find him bent over some thick tome, engrossed in whatever he was reading.

Breanna loved the times Dakota would discuss with her what he had read in a certain book and encourage her to express her opinion. Often, he would put his books aside and take her in his arms. She liked those times most of all.

Her swimming lessons had become a nightly ritual. She would wait anxiously for the servants to depart for the day so she and Dakota could swim together. By now, she prided herself on being an able swimmer.

At night, Dakota would take her in his arms, and she would surrender to his passionate love-making. Happiness bloomed in her heart, to nurture and grow as her love for this man deepened.

The only dark cloud on Breanna's horizon was the fact that Dakota had never said he loved her.

There were moments when Breanna could feel a gap between them, and she wondered if it was because he was remembering the dead Indian maiden, Running Dear.

***

Dakota had gone hunting with Levi, and Breanna found time heavy on her hands, so she decided to go for a walk in the woods.

Removing her heavy crinoline and ruffled petticoats so they would not hinder her progress, she pulled her white shawl about her shoulders. As she moved down the path at the back of the lodge, her footsteps quickened.

Fall was in the air, and the leaves had turned to brilliant reds and warm yellows, and the musty smell of damp undergrowth filled Breanna's senses. As she walked along, she felt in tune with nature. A chattering magpie on a high branch and a precocious squirrel who scampered up a tree trunk both caught her attention. She was startled when a deer darted in front of her. The magnificent animal bounded through the air with a gracefulness that left Breanna staring in awe.

She had little time to think before someone who was in pursuit of the animal leaped from behind a wide oak tree and knocked her to the ground.

"Breanna," Dakota asked with concern, "are you injured?"

She shook her head, while he steadied her on her feet.

"No, I am but winded—" She stared down at his moccasins, before lifting her gaze to his face. In shocked confusion, she saw that his chest was bare and that he wore buckskin breeches. Around his dark hair, he wore a leather-beaded headband.

Breanna stared at her husband in disbelief. When her eyes locked with his, she saw amusement in the green depths.

"I was in pursuit of an animal deer, and instead, I find a human 'dear' has become my quarry."

Her confusion did not lessen. She was accustomed to Dakota looking like lord of the manor. This man was not her husband; this was someone she did not know. She took a hesitant step backward. "Your . . . I don't know . . ."

He looked at her sadly, understanding her bewilderment.

"I'm afraid this is the real me, Breanna," he explained. "The man you have come to know as your husband is merely what others expect me to be."

"I don't understand, Dakota."

He looked at her proudly. "I have lived my life as an Indian, and I have told you before that I make no apologies to anyone for the man I am—least of all, my own wife."

Breanna's eyes moved down his tanned chest, to the beaded belt he wore about his waist.

"I ask no apology of you, Dakota," she flared, her chin raised defiantly. "I was merely taken by surprise."

He reached out and gripped her shoulders. "Look at me, Breanna, so you will know this about me. For all of my life, I have lived, thought, and breathed as an Arapaho. With the exception of Levi, and Murphy, the man who ran a trading post, and an occasional white trapper that happened into my village, I knew no white men. I have learned to ride a horse with a saddle—though I have to confess I would still rather ride bareback —I have learned to eat my meat with a fork, but I do not think it makes me a better person, and it does not mean that the Indian heart beating within me has become white."

"I thought you had left your Indian ways behind when you came to England, Dakota."

He took a deep breath and reached for her, pulling her into the crook of his arm. "Breanna, I have always prided myself on being able to achieve anything I put my mind to. When I decided to come to England, I already had a good command of the language, and I could read and write English. But had you known me only a few short months ago, you would have called me a savage." He smiled slightly. "In fact, I believe you did call me that on one occasion."

"Now that I know you,. I would never think that," she said, only slightly mollified.

"Forgive me, Breanna. Knowing you as I do, I should never have accused you of prejudice. I do so humbly ask your pardon. You will have to understand that inside I am the same man I was before John smoothed off my rough edges. Underneath the finely tailored clothing I wear, I am still an Arapaho warrior."

She reached up and touched his cheek. "I accept your apology, and I accept you for what you are. Dakota" she said earnestly, "I am your wife, and I like the man you are."

"Like?"

"Yes, I . . ." she stammered, unwilling to tell him that her feelings for him went far deeper. "We haven't known one another very long, Dakota . . ."

His laughter was warm. "Not long, but intimately, Breanna." His eyes darkened as he gazed at her lovely face. "Very intimately"

The tone of his voice, the passion that made his green eyes sparkle, the touch of his hand, all played a part in making Breanna tremble with frenzied delight. When he turned her to face him, bringing her body to fit tightly against him, she surrendered completely to his embrace.

They stood together while the setting sun painted the glorious autumn colors with a purple hue. Breanna felt the invisible bond that tied her to Dakota. He might not love her, but he could not deny the passion that he felt for her.

As Breanna's eyes moved over her husband's handsome face, she could not imagine any woman not being moved by this man. She watched, fascinated, as the bonds of civilization were stripped from him and he picked her up in his arms.

"I will show you how an Indian makes love to his woman," he whispered thickly in her ear.

He carried her off the path to a secluded glen and gently placed her down on a bed of soft leaves. Her world tilted crazily as he lay beside her, his hot lips playing with her silken lashes, while his wonderful hands moved slowly across her heaving breasts.

"Surely not here?" she asked only halfheartedly.

"Yes, here."

"But what about Levi?" she reminded him.

Laughter lit Dakota's eyes. "Let him find his own woman."

There was no chance for her to protest because his assault on her soft lips left her breathless and drained her of all opposition.

With expert ease he disrobed her, all the while kissing her to silence any further objection she might make.

Like brilliant patterns from a kaleidoscope, the autumn leaves drifted down around them. But the beauty of nature was lost on the two lovers, who were only aware of one another. When Breanna looked into Dakota's face she saw a yearning that took her breath away and made her want to be closer, oh so much closer to him. He held her so tightly that she could feel the hammering of his heartbeat against her naked breasts.

Dakota cupped one hand behind Breanna's head to cushion her against the hard ground, making her aware of what a gentle and considerate lover he was.

Like the merging of land and sky, like the coming together of sea and shore, Dakota's and Breanna's bodies entwined, their hearts straining to become as one.

With gentle strokes, Dakota lifted Breanna to a world of passion—a world where she was lost to reality —a world where he was dominant and she submissive. As she looked deeply into his green eyes, she felt as though he was breathing for the both of them. This man whom she had not invited into her life was taking over and becoming her life. She knew she was in danger of losing her identity, but at the moment it did not matter. Nothing mattered but the wild sensations that robbed her of her strength and made her body tremble with anticipation.

Dakota's lips circled her ear and she heard his whispered words. "Would that I could always hold you as I now do, Breanna. At this moment you are completely in my power and you are mine."

"Yes," she agreed breathlessly, unwilling and unable to deny his power over her. "Yes, I am yours."

Breanna could feel the building tension within her body and she grasped Dakota's shoulders, wishing she could become a part of him. With a shuddering release, she felt herself floating back to earth and back to reality.

After the storm of passion subsided, Dakota still held her in his arms. They were both bound by the beauty that surrounded them.

"This is truly paradise." A wicked gleam brightened his green eyes. "You and paradise too. How fortunate can a man be?"

Breanna felt great sadness when the day came for her and Dakota to leave the hunting lodge.

She stood on the steps of Weatherford Hall, feeling as if she had been transported to another world. She would miss the intimacy and closeness she had shared with Dakota at the hunting lodge.

She tried to shake off the premonition that hung over her like a dark cloud, warning her that her happiness would be short-lived.

John greeted Dakota and Breanna warmly. With a wide smile, he kissed Breanna on the cheek. "At last, an end to my boredom," he said. "I have had enough of playing the country gentleman, and am ready for a diversion."

Dakota raised his eyebrow. "I did not expect you to be here, since Levi informed me you had gone off to London."

"London is a bore when one is without funds," John said with a slow shake of his head. "My financial circumstances force me to rely on your hospitality once more."

"I take it you have lost the money you won from the Henley brothers?"

John turned his pockets inside out to show Dakota they were empty. "I had a run of bad luck."

"I am always glad to see you, John," Dakota said. "Besides, I owe you a debt that cannot be repaid."

John laughed, his eyes dancing. "There you are wrong. I am sure I will think of a way."

Breanna excused herself and moved toward the stairs, knowing the two men must have things to discuss.

Both Dakota and John watched her move gracefully up the stairs.

"That is one beautiful woman, Dakota. You are a fortunate devil."

"You were saying," Dakota reminded him, not wanting to discuss his wife with anyone, including John. He was finding he was jealous of other men's attentions to Breanna, even faithful John's.

"Actually, I was only jesting about being strapped. I have come for a very different reason. I fear I have some rather disheartening news."

"Grandfather? He's not dead, is he?"

"No, not dead yet, but he is sinking fast, and the doctor believes death is imminent. He slipped into unconsciousness before I left." John saw the stricken look on Dakota's face. "I am truly sorry, cousin, but your grandfather is an old man, and he has been ill for a long time."

Death had claimed so many of the people Dakota had loved. Even though he didn't know his grandfather well, he still felt a great sadness in his heart.

"Did my grandfather have any final instructions for me? Did he say what I was to do?" Dakota asked.

"No, he said nothing."

Once more, Dakota felt as if death had set him adrift. He knew that his grandfather's passing would place more responsibilities upon his shoulders and add invisible bonds which would tie him even more securely to England.

"I must go to London at once" Dakota decided, moving quickly out of the room in search of Baxley.

***

Breanna stood on the high cliff, looking down at the panoramic view of the Atlantic Ocean. The distant square sails of a ship reminded her of how limited her world had always been. She wondered if the ship might be bound for her husband's birthplace, America. Breanna sighed inwardly, wishing she could one day visit the land of Dakota's birth. She hoped the day would never come when he would want to return without her.