Dakota Dreams (Historical Romance) (26 page)

Dakota's eyes blazed with anger. John, seeing this, moved between the two men, knowing that Breanna's brother was treading on dangerous ground if he provoked Dakota too far.

"You know me, Fielding, and I have to back up my cousin's story. Breanna thought Dakota had taken Lady Rye Saffron for his mistress, which is not true at all."

Fielding looked into John's eyes, knowing and respecting him as a truthful man. "Were you present the night of my sister's accident?"

"I was. And Dakota is being truthful with you; there were misunderstandings all the way around that night."

"Suppose you tell me what happened then"

***

It was a cold, dreary morning, and a heavy rain was falling. Breanna felt well enough to get up and dress. Lady Mary had told her that Dakota was coming to take her home today. Mrs. Crowder had sent over some of Breanna's own clothing, and she was now dressed in a mint-green tea gown. Her eyes were anxious as she sat beside Lady Mary in the morning room, her hands tensely clasped in her lap, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

"Mary, I hope I am doing the right thing. My brother thinks I should go back to my husband. He assures me that I misinterpreted the events that occurred the night I ran out of the house. But I just don't know."

Lady Mary set her sewing aside. Her heart was heavy at the thought that Breanna would be leaving. "Do you remember everything, Breanna?"

"Yes, everything. Some things I wish I had never remembered."

Mary's eyes softened. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I cannot."

"How do you feel about your husband?" Mary asked, remembering how she had loved her Tom.

"I don't know. I begin to think that I loved Dakota. Now Fm not so sure." Breanna turned her golden eyes on her new friend. "Oh, Mary, I am so mixed up and I feel so numb inside."

Lady Mary shook her head sadly. "I cannot advise you in matters of the heart, Breanna. You will have to be the one to decide your own future."

"Wrong," Stephen said, coming around from behind Breanna and kneeling down in front of her. "If you decide you do not want to go home with your husband, then you don't have to. You will always have a home with Mary and myself."

Stephen watched the firelight bring life to Breanna's red-gold hair. "Your brother informed me of the circumstances under which you married your husband, and I am appalled. You do not have to go back to that man, Breanna."

Breanna saw the kindness in Stephen's eyes, and she thought he was perhaps the dearest man she had ever known. "Thank you, Your Grace, and while I appreciate everything you have done for me, I cannot stay here."

He took her hand, wishing he could tell her how his heart was filled with love for her. But he realized that to confess to that love at this time would only serve to further confuse her life. "I beg you to call me Stephen. And I do not intend to lose contact with you, Breanna. You must always consider Mary and me as your friends. If ever you are in trouble, let me be the first to know."

"I will, Stephen," she whispered, brushing a tear from her cheek. Breanna had never had friends before. She knew being parted from her two dear friends was going to be very painful. "Where is my brother?" she asked, wondering why Fielding wasn't there to lend his support to her when she came face-to-face with Dakota.

Stephen's lips hardened into a thin line. He could not understand himself why Fielding had deserted his sister, so how was he going to explain it to her? "Your brother asked me to offer you his best wishes and to tell you he had pressing business that needed his attention at home."

"He . . . didn't even tell me good-bye."

"It seems not."

Breanna leaned back in her chair. Fielding had been so kind and caring when he arrived yesterday. She had thought he had changed, but he hadn't really. He would always be weak and would sidestep any kind of unpleasant confrontation. "It doesn't matter," she said, knowing that it mattered very much.

Breanna tensed when she heard the butler announce Dakota and John. She watched Stephen draw himself up to his full height as Dakota approached. Her eyes looked into those of her husband, and as always, she could not tell what he was thinking.

He acknowledged the introduction to Stephen and Mary with a nod of his head, his eyes always on Breanna.

"Are you well enough to travel?" Dakota asked, his eyes moving across Breanna's face. Inside his heart was crying out to her, but this did not show. He wanted to go down on his knees and hold her to him, to beg her to believe in his innocence — while another part of him rebelled because she had not had faith in him.

"I am well enough," Breanna answered, allowing Stephen to help her to her feet. "Please tell me first the condition of your grandfather."

"He is no different," Dakota answered, his voice cold and without feeling.

Lady Mary reached out toward the handsome young Viscount. "Please take the greatest care of Breanna," she pleaded. "She has been very ill."

"We shall be very aware of her health," John spoke up, feeling the undertones in this room. He saw the naked love shining in the Duke's eyes when they rested on Breanna. "Rest assured Breanna will receive every consideration."

Stephen stood eye-to-eye with Dakota. "Does your cousin speak for you?"

Dakota did not miss the way the Duke's hand rested possessively on Breanna's arm, and he wanted to tear her away from the man. "No man speaks for me. I will take my wife home now."

Stephen turned Breanna to him and whispered next to her ear. "Why couldn't I have met you first?"

She glanced into his eyes in confusion. Turning away to hide the tears that threatened to fall, she knelt before Mary. "Please take care of yourself. Get out more and see friends. I expect you to come to visit me as soon as possible."

"I shall, Breanna. Remember, you will be missed by both my brother and myself."

Turning quickly toward the door, Breanna held her hand out to John because she could not- bear to have Dakota touch her.

Dakota saw this, and turned to Mary. "I owe you and your brother my thanks for taking such good care of my wife."

"Just see that you do the same," Stephen warned.

Dakota's eyes met Stephen's in mortal combat. Today was not the time to settle what was between them, but both men knew that day was not far off.

Mary and Stephen watched as Breanna departed with her husband and his cousin. The brother and sister felt the silence of the now empty room.

"Shall we ever see her again, Stephen?" Mary asked, feeling as if she had lost her best friend.

"Yes, we shall," he stated with assurance.

Mary's eyes followed her brother as he moved restlessly about the room. Finally, he sat down by Mary, where a trace of Breanna's perfume still lingered in the air.

"Mary, I have no notion of what Breanna has gone through, or indeed may be going through now as we speak. But I intend to find out. I do not know if her husband is guilty of misusing her, or if he was a victim of circumstances."

"You care for Breanna a great deal, don't you, Stephen?"

"I could easily care too much," he admitted. "I finally understand how you felt about Tom, and why it has been so difficult for you to put his memory aside."

"But, Stephen," she reminded him sadly, "Breanna is married to someone else. You must put her out of your mind. There is no future for you and her together."

"I have never coveted another man's wife before, and I am not sure how to deal with this. One thing is for certain, I plan to call on her husband very soon. I am still not convinced that Breanna wanted to go with him."

Mary placed her hand on her brother's. "Let it alone, Stephen, because I could tell that Breanna loves her husband a great deal."

A spasm of pain crossed his face. "Nevertheless, I shall call on the Viscount of Remington to satisfy my mind that Breanna is being treated well."

25

John helped Breanna into the coach and tucked a lap robe about her, while Dakota remained distant and cold. The coach ride to the townhouse was long and uncomfortable for Breanna. She did not once look at Dakota, but she could feel his eyes burning into her, watching her every move.

When they reached the house, Mrs. Crowder hurried Breanna off to bed, clucking over her like a mother hen. As Breanna lay in the strange bedroom, she tried to make some reason out of her life. Tired from the day's ordeal, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

She did not hear Dakota when he entered her bedroom. She was not aware that he stood over her for a very long time, just watching her sleep. She did not hear him when he turned and walked quietly out of the room.

***

The next morning, Breanna had just climbed out of bed and was pulling on her dressing gown when she heard a knock on her door. Diving back into bed, she pulled the covers over her, calling out for whoever it was to enter. She had known Dakota would pay her a visit, but she had hoped he would not come so soon.

He stood tall and proud, his face a mask that revealed nothing of what he was feeling. "May I sit down and talk to you for a moment?" he asked politely.

She nodded, indicating the gray silk-covered chair. "I have been expecting you," she said dully.

He saw the faint trace of bruises on her face and felt her pain. "Are you recovered from the accident?" he wanted to know.

"I feel stronger with each passing day." She met his eyes and saw such misery there that she wanted to cry out. Was he innocent? No, she had seen that woman in Dakota's arms with her own eyes. She turned her eyes away, not wanting to forgive him.

"How is your grandfather this morning?"

"There has been no change."

"I'm sorry, Dakota."

"Breanna, I just want to say this, and then I will never mention it again. I am sorry about this misunderstanding between us. My mistake was one of judgment, and not one of immorality. I wish that you had trusted me. The next time there is a disagreement between us, I hope we can talk about it, and you won't go running off into the night."

Breanna's anger could no longer be contained, and the words spilled out of her mouth. "But I saw that woman in your arms. You brought her under this roof, bought her clothing, gave her jewels. What did you expect me to think?"

"I did not bring her here, I merely allowed her to stay. I know now that was a mistake. But I did not take the woman to my bed. I did not desire her." His jade green eyes burned with conviction. "No woman has ever tempted me like the one with the face of an angel and the temper of the devil."

"Me?"

A slight smile curved his lips. "Who else could it be?"

She was not ready to believe him. The hurt and disillusionment. were still burning inside her. "You have a strange way of showing your affection, Dakota."

"I did nothing wrong."

"I find I am weary, Dakota. Will you leave me now?"

He stood up, knowing he was losing her and there was nothing he could do about it. Pain throbbed in his voice. "Will I see you tomorrow? Perhaps you would like to take a ride in the carriage?"

"No, I will just want to rest for a few more days." Her eyes were lusterless as she turned to the wall.

***

Dakota stood over Breanna for a moment, wishing he had the words to tell her how he felt about her. If only he could make her understand how his world had stopped when he could not find her. He reached toward her with a trembling hand, then drew back, quietly leaving the room.

Dakota entered the library to find John and Levi talking over a glass of brandy. "How is Breanna feeling today, Dakota?" Levi inquired.

Dakota removed his coat and tossed it over the back of a chair, then ripped his cravat from his neck, tossing it aside. "I don't know anything about women, least of all my own wife. But I have more pressing things on my mind at the moment."

Levi and John exchanged glances. "Is it your grandfather?" John asked. The pressure of not knowing from day-to-day, or minute-to-minute, when the old Marquess would take his final breath was taking its toll on everyone's nerves.

"No, it is not my grandfather"

"I suspect you are only upset because Breanna did not trust you," John offered. "After she comes around, you will sing a different tune."

Levi, who knew Dakota better than John did, realized that something deeper was troubling him. "What has happened?" the hunter asked.

"I'm going home, Levi," Dakota stated flatly. "I have to."

"I assume you mean back to Weatherford Hall?" John said, knowing that Dakota was taking his grandfather's imminent death hard. "You cannot leave until . . . my great-uncle has gone. It would not be the proper thing to do."

"I will be saddened to leave my grandfather, but I have to go home to America. Something happened that requires my attention."

The color drained from John's face. "But what about your grandfather? What about Breanna? You cannot expect her to go with you, and you can't desert her."

"Breanna is free to do as she chooses. She has always known this. As for my grandfather, God will choose for him."

"Has something happened?" Levi asked again, knowing Dakota's decision to return to America was not merely a whim. There was something definitely wrong.

Dakota picked up his coat and pulled a letter from the inside pocket. "This came today. It's from Murphy at the trading post, Levi."

"What's he got to say?"

"I cannot credit what he says is true. Black Otter is not dead. He escaped the same night we left the Arapaho village. He and several young warriors are wreaking havoc on the white settlers, as well as striking at Indian villages. Murphy writes that Black Otter has turned renegade—he is killing without mercy. He says if something isn't done, the soldiers will be brought in to hunt him down, and that would cause a real bloodbath. Murphy thinks I am the only one who can stop Black Otter."

"Yes, I reckon he's right," Levi admitted. "Chances are, Black Otter expects you to come back. Hell no, he knows you'll come back. That's why he's doing this."

Hatred burned in Dakota's eyes. "Black Otter said we would meet again, and it will come to pass."

"Have both of you lost your minds?" John asked. "I can't believe you are standing here discussing some Indian who is no longer your problem. Let the Americans deal with him. Your life is here."

"That's where you are wrong," Dakota said. "Black Otter will not cease being my problem until one or both of us are dead!"

"Good day," a clipped voice called out from the doorway, drawing the three men's attention. "I persuaded your housekeeper to allow me to announce myself. I hope I'm not interrupting anything," the Duke of Clandannon said.

Dakota's eyes narrowed as he stared into the Duke's cold eyes. "Would it matter if you were?" Dakota asked pointedly.

"No, not really," Stephen replied. He nodded to John before his eyes moved on to the white-headed man. "You must be Levi Gunther," he concluded. "Breanna has told me many things about you."

"Yep, that's who I am, but who are you?" Levi asked, certain he already knew who the man was, and knowing that if it was Breanna's newest champion, there was certain to be trouble ahead. That was all they needed.

"This is His Grace, the Duke of Clandannon," John said to Levi, knowing that Dakota did not feel inclined to make the introduction.

Stephen nodded politely. "I am pleased to meet you, Levi. Breanna spoke highly of you."

"Now that the flowery compliments have been handed out," Dakota said curtly, "what is your business here?"

Again the two men's eyes locked.

"Actually I have come to inquire into your wife's health. I trust Breanna is faring well."

"Yes, she is."

"I wonder if I might see her, just to assure myself that she is well."

Dakota's eyes narrowed. "No, you cannot."

Stephen shrugged. "Can I assume that you would have no objections to my sister calling on Breanna? You see, we both care for her and want to be assured that she has not suffered from her . . . ordeal."

"Your sister is always welcome to call. If you require nothing further, we will bid you a good day."

John's jaws fell open at Dakota's display of jealousy. "If your grace will follow me, I'll show you the way out," he said, trying to save the situation. He could see that the Duke was overly interested in Dakota's wife, and it was apparent that Dakota knew it too.

Stephen bowed. "You can expect my sister to call tomorrow."

The look on Dakota's face was murderous as the Duke followed John out of the room.

Levi thought it was just as well that the Duke was leaving. "Well, if that don't beat all. Am I mistaken, or was that man a mite too interested in Breanna's welfare?"

Dakota glared at Levi. "You were not mistaken. There seem to be too many gentlemen interested in my wife."

***

For two days Breanna had remained in her bedroom. She was beginning to feel lonely and cut off from everything. She vacillated between wishing Dakota would come to see her and fearing that he might. At last, unable to stand the confinement of her room any longer, she decided to take her courage in hand and go downstairs. After all, she reasoned, she couldn't hide in her room for the rest of her life. She had to face Dakota sooner or later.

Breanna encountered no one on the way downstairs. Looking into the sitting room, she found no one there either.

When she entered the library, she was almost glad it was empty. A cheery fire blazed in the fireplace, and various titles of books beckoned to her.

Breanna thought of how well read Dakota was. In the past, he had shared much of his wondrous knowledge with her. He had challenged her mind, and awakened in her a craving for knowledge. Unlike other men, he did not believe books had been printed for men alone. Now she decided she would read on her own, hoping Dakota would be pleased.

Selecting a book about mysterious India, she dropped down on a window seat and began to read. Fascinating pictures of an ancient culture unfolded for her on the pages of the book. She was so engrossed in what she was reading that she had not heard Dakota and John enter the room. She looked up only when John's angry voice reached her ears.

"Dammit, Dakota, you can't just walk away from your responsibilities here in England. You can't leave your grandfather when he is dying. And what about the other people here who depend on you?"

"We have talked this to death, John. And if yon see my duties as important, why don't you take care of them?"

"Now you are starting to sound like your grandfather. He never considered others when they stood in the way of something he wanted. You know how long he neglected the villagers in Weatherford."

I have responsibilities in America also, John. I was hoping you would stay with my grandfather until . . . the end. Then go to Weatherford Hall and watch over the villagers for me. I will give you leave to make decisions in my absence."

Breanna drew in her breath. Was Dakota planning to leave her? The book she had been reading dropped from her lap and landed with a thud, catching both men's attention. Her eyes sought Dakota's as she stood up and walked slowly toward him. "You are going away?" she asked.

"Yes. I hadn't meant to tell you in this way, but I am going back to America."

John watched Breanna's face whiten. He felt it was time to leave them alone. Neither of them heard him when he excused himself and left the room.

"You once told me that you might return to America, Dakota. I had begun to believe you felt at home in England."

"I would hasten to tell you that in all probability I shall one day return to England, Breanna. I realize I cannot just walk away from my duties."

"Your duties to whom? Me, or the villagers at Weatherford?"

"Both, Breanna."

She felt as if someone had stabbed at her heart with a knife. "Are you leaving because of the trouble between the two of us?"

His jaw set in a firm line. "No, I would never want to leave with this misunderstanding between us if I didn't feel compelled to go. There are many things in my mind that are unclear. I do not want you to think this is a cowardly act and I am running away. Know instead that I have a larger responsibility elsewhere."

"I do not understand. Will you return to the Arapaho village?"

"I don't know. Perhaps." He hesitated to tell her his real reason for leaving. "I cannot even tell you when I will be free to return."

Now Breanna was confused. "Will you not tell me why you are going? I want to understand."

"I cannot, Breanna."

Suddenly she couldn't stand the thought of being parted from him. He might not love her, but he was her husband. "Take me with you," she cried, all pretense of indifference stripped from her. "Don't leave me behind," she pleaded, grabbing his arm and holding on to him with desperation.

Dakota could not believe his ears. Under other circumstances he would be overjoyed that she wanted to be with him. He had thought she would be happy to see him leave. He looked into her eyes, trying to read the truth in the golden depths. The pain of leaving her would be great, but he could not take her with him—it was too dangerous.