Savage Desire (Savage Lagonda 1) (10 page)

She turned on him angrily. "Yes, I would have been his squaw. I would have washed and cleaned for him. I would have done anything he asked of me, just to be near him." Her voice broke. "But he did not want me. Try and understand, Jeffery. I love him and he did not want me!"

The huge white doeskin tent was erected in the forest near the Golden home. Sasha and Tanka were spreading white ermine skins to cover the bare ground. Then they placed soft white doeskin cushions beside a long ebony-colored table that was edged in gold.

"This is a lot of trouble to go through, if you ask me," Tanka grumbled.

"Nothing is too good for the Golden One. The prince says he will see her today," Sasha said. "I wish he would allow me to go with him. I am most anxious to see her."

"I, too, want to see this woman with the white skin and the golden hair. She sounds ugly to me," Tanka said spitefully.

"Oh, no. The prince says she is the fairest of all women."

Tanka's eyes burned with jealousy. It was true she had lain with the prince many times. But he had never spoken to her of love, and while he had treated her with kindness, he had never shared any of his inner thoughts with her. Tanka had always known he would never marry her, and she did not expect marriage, but she had enjoyed a kind of respect from the others because the prince favored her. She knew her time of usefulness was drawing to a close, for when the prince married it was forbidden for him to lie with anyone other than his wife.

Tanka's one redeeming quality was that she truly loved the prince, but many of the Lagonda women loved him. He was very handsome, and so good to lie with. Just thinking about his strong muscular body made the blood run hot in Tanka's veins. He had not come to her since she had quarreled with Sasha. In fact, he hardly looked at her anymore.

Tanka was vain. She knew she had pleased him in the past and wondered if he missed her at all. She would lie in her tent at night, unable to sleep, thinking of him and wishing he would seek her out once more.

"Tanka, do you suppose he will bring her here today?"

"What do I care?" Tanka said angrily. "Once the prince sees her again he may not want her. I think he has built her up in his mind. No one can be as beautiful as he says she is. And who knows, she may be wed to someone else by now, or she may no longer be a maiden. And as you know, the prince cannot marry other than a maiden. Who knows what the men who captured her did to her. The prince did not lie with her, so he cannot know. He must not have desired her then; why should he desire her now?”

"That is only your jealousy speaking, Tanka. But even you cannot make me angry today, for soon, very soon, we shall behold the Golden One."

Tajarez entered the tent and looked about him and nodded approvingly. Both Sasha and Tanka stared at him in shocked surprise. He was dressed as a white man. He wore black cloth britches that fit tightly on his hard, firm body. A white shirt made his dark skin look even darker, and he wore a jacket that matched the britches. He had exchanged his moccasins for shiny black boots, and his hair was tied at the back of his neck with a black ribbon.

Tajarez smiled. "What do you think? Do I pass for a white man?"

"I do not know," Sasha spoke up. "I have never seen a white man."

Tanka walked around him, eyeing the strange clothing. "Is this the clothing of a white man?"

"I am told it is. Do you like it?"

Tanka gave him a seductive look. "I like whatever you wear, or whatever you do not wear."

Tajarez frowned at her. "Is everything in readiness?"

"Yes, my prince," Sasha spoke up. "Will you bring the Golden One here today?"

His smile was warm as he looked at his little cousin. "Speak English," he chided her gently. "I do not know if she will return with me today, little one."

Sasha blushed at his mild reprimand and lowered her head.

"It is most important that you practice your English
every chance you get, for you will be one of the few who
can communicate with her, and you will be the one to teach her the language of the Lagonda."

Sasha smiled shyly, and he affectionately pulled one of her braids. "You are almost as anxious to see her as I am,
are you not, little cousin?"

"Oh, yes, my prince. Although I have never seen her, I
love her already."

"She will love you, too, Sasha, for who would not?"

Sasha beamed under his compliment. "Do you go to her now?"

Tajarez frowned. "Yes. I am told there is a wedding
taking place at the Golden home today."

"Not hers, surely?" Sasha asked.

"Not hers, surely," he repeated.

A PEOPLE WHO SPOKE THE AZTEC TONGUE, HAD
HAD LARGE WALLED CITIES, HOUSES OF SEVERAL STORIES, AND RULERS CALLED KINGS.

—
Friar Marcos

7

Mara watched with tears in her eyes as David and Linda were married. She felt happiness for her brother and sadness for herself. She knew she would never know the happiness they shared, because the one man in the world for her was lost to her forever.

The big house was overflowing with wedding guests. Some of them she knew, many of them she had never met as they were friends and relatives of Linda's family.

As soon as the ceremony was over, Mara slipped up the stairs to her room, seeking solitude for a moment, hoping she would not be missed.

Tajarez stood at the back of the big room, watching the wedding ceremony. His eyes searched the crowd, looking for the one face he desired to see. There were so many people. He stood back, not wishing to mix with any of them.

When the wedding was over, he wandered from room to room, looking at Mara's home. It was very grand—like the homes that O'Malley had told him about. There were women dressed in colorful gowns and the men were dressed much as he was. The white man had apparently done very well by him in his choice of clothing.

Tajarez stepped out into the entry way to get away from the crowd of people, and bumped into a gentleman who had just come downstairs.

"My apologies," the man said to him, laughing at their collision. "Not at all," Tajarez said, studying the man carefully. He had hair the color of Mara's and the same green eyes. Tajarez knew he was speaking to her brother Jeffery.

"I do not believe I have had the pleasure of meeting you. My name is Jeffery Golden, the groom's brother." He extended his hand to Tajarez and Tajarez shook it firmly, as he had seen many of the male guests do.

"This is quite a gathering," Tajarez said, not revealing his name.

"So it is. My taste runs to smaller weddings. If I were my brother, I would take my bride and run."

They were interrupted by another man who clapped Jeffery on the back. "Jeffery, I have been looking everywhere for you," the newcomer said.

"Anthony, when did you get back from England?"

"Last week, and it is good to be home. Tell me, where is that beautiful sister of yours? I saw her earlier, but she was surrounded by admirers, and I could not get within ten feet of her."

"She is playing hostess today. You may have to settle for the back of her head."

"Do you jest? I would settle for any part of her I could have."

Jeffery laughed. "You and countless others. My sister can pick and choose, but she does neither."

"Ah, my friend, that is what makes her so intriguing."

Tajarez stared at the man Anthony. To a woman he supposed he would be handsome, with his blond good looks, but to him he represented a threat, and he did not like the way he spoke about Mara. Tajarez's eyes burned, and he found himself wanting to smash the man against the wall.

'Tell me, Jeffery, how is Mara really? It must have been very hard on her when your mother and father died. My mother wrote me in England, and I would have come home at once, but my mother said that Mara would not receive anyone."

Jeffery sighed. "She was very ill for a long time, and shut herself in her room, seeing no one, but she is better now. In fact, we are going to Philadelphia next week and then on to Paris. We will most probably be gone for at least a year. I think it will be good for her."

"Do not think you can get her away from me by taking her to Paris, Jeffery. I will surely show up on your doorstep one day."

"I hope you will do that, Anthony. She needs all her friends at the moment."

"Anthony! When did you get home?"

All three men's eyes were drawn to the top of the stairs, where Mara stood. Tajarez stepped back into the shadows, drinking in her loveliness. She was wearing a green gown that seemed to shimmer as she descended the stairs. Her golden hair was arranged on the top of her head, and she wore green jewels that matched her eyes about her neck and around her wrist. He was having a hard time associating the beautiful vision as his Mara, who had worn the tattered green gown, and whose hair had hung down her back in riotous curls. This was no girl, but a beautiful, polished woman who was breathtaking. The year since he had seen her had ripened her body into that of a woman.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see how she had matured, frightened that she would no longer love him. Why should she? If her brother was to be believed, she could have any man she desired, men of her own race. Why should she want him?

She raced down the stairs and threw herself into the arms of the man Anthony. Tajarez waited to see no more.

He walked out the front door and stood on the veranda. He was too late. She had forgotten all about him. He walked down the steps and around the side of the house, with the intention of going back to camp, when he saw what looked like a garden at the back of the house.

Postponing his departure, he walked toward the garden. For some reason he did not want to leave this house where she lived. Because one thing was certain. When he left, he would never return.

His heart was heavy. It would have been better if he had never come. Then he could remember her as she was, the tiny frightened girl who depended on him for her survival and looked at him with love in her eyes. He closed his eyes and remembered her laughing delightedly at the way he caught the fish, and he remembered how she had felt in his arms, the sound of her voice when she had told him she loved him, and the brave front she had put on when he had left her at the fort.

Now she was no longer a child, but the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Who would be the lucky man who would win her heart, the one who would teach her all about love?

Oh, Great Father, I cannot bear it. He sat down on a bench and lowered his head. Inside he raged against leaving her. He felt like a man whose purpose for living had been taken from him.

Mara was busy playing hostess, making sure the guests had food and drink. The smile on her face was forced. Soon the music began. David and Linda started dancing and were soon joined by other couples. Mara danced with so many different men that her head was spinning. When at long last the guests started leaving, Mara danced with Jeffery.

"You look exhausted, honey," he told her.

"I could drop if you were not holding me up."

Jeffery halted his steps and led her to the edge of the dance floor, then out into the entryway. "I will cover for you. Run on upstairs. If anyone asks for you, I will make up some excuse. Besides, this is going to be Linda's home now. She can be hostess for the rest of the evening."

"Jeffery, I think I will go into the garden for a breath of fresh air before I turn in for the night." She kissed him on the cheek, and walked to the back of the house.

She encountered Tess at the back door, and placed her finger to her lips. "Shh. If anyone asks, you have not seen me."

Tess nodded and smiled.

The air in the garden was cooler. She could smell her mother's roses. She pulled a white bloom and held it to her nose. The fragrance reminded her of her mother. Mara, hoping she would not encounter anyone, found the secluded spot that had always been her favorite. It was hidden from the rest of the garden by a yew hedge. Sitting down on the bench, she let the mask she had worn all day drop from her face. She had gotten through this day. Now she had to get through the rest of her life. She did not try to stem the tide of tears that washed down her face, but gave in to her misery.

"Why do you cry, Mara?"

She had not heard anyone approach, and was startled by a man's appearance. He was tall. She could not see his features in the dim moonlight, but she was sure she did not know him.

"Why do you cry?" he asked once more.

She quickly wiped the tears from her face, wishing he would go away. "I always cry at weddings. It is a weakness of mine."

"It has been my experience that weddings are a time of great joy, not a time for tears."

His accent sounded strange to her. He had to be from another country. His voice was deep and husky, and had a strange effect on her.

"I do not believe I know you, sir."

"Do you not, Mara?"

She was confused. "You must be a friend of Linda's. I know all of my brother's friends."

"I saw the bride for the first time today." He paused. "I was grieved to hear about the death of your mother and father, Mara."

"You knew my parents?"

"I knew of them, and I know how much you cared for them."

She strained her eyes, trying to see the face of the stranger. There was something vaguely familiar about him. "You have the advantage over me, sir. You seem to know me, and yet I do not know your name."

The man laughed. "I seem to recall how important names are to you, Mara."

"How can that be? I do not know you. It is a usual custom, when two strangers meet, to exchange names. Perhaps it is not so in your country, but in my country, a gentleman would never call a lady by her name unless she gives him her permission to do so."

He caught the reprimand in her voice, and smiled. "If I have erred, you will have to forgive me. I am unfamiliar with your customs. May I sit beside you?"

"I was about to retire for the night. You should rejoin the party. Will you not be missed?"

"I want only to talk to you. Will you not grant this one small favor to a stranger in your land? I am leaving tonight and shall never see you again."

Mara thought for a moment. She found herself wanting to know more about this man. Something about him had struck a cord in her heart. She found herself responding to his deep hypnotic voice.

"I will talk to you for a moment, if you would like," she said, moving over to make room for him on the bench.

He sat down beside her, and once more she tried to see his face, but she still could not make out his features in the darkness.

She was puzzled by his knowledge of her family. Maybe he was someone Jeffery had met in Philadelphia and invited to the wedding, hoping she would be interested in him. It would not be the first time both he and David had tried that ploy.

"You are a friend of Jeffery's, and he sent you to talk to me, did he not?"

"Why should you think so?"

"Because he and David are always trying to interest me in one of their friends or another. Besides, Jeffery is the only one who knew where I would be."

"You are very lovely. You should not need your brothers to find a man for you. There must be many who would be only too willing to grant you your slightest wish."

The low, soothing sound of his voice caused a tightening in her throat. She became angry that she was reacting so strongly to this man.

"Forgive me if I do not find this the least bit funny. You may return to Jeffery and tell him that his little plan did not work. I will not tolerate his matchmaking."

"What does it mean, this 'matchmaking' you speak of?"

"As if you did not know. You go to Jeffery and tell him for me that I have all the gentlemen friends I need at the moment," she said angrily. "In the last month I have received three proposals of marriage, and one not so nice proposition. I am not the least bit amused by Jeffery's little joke."

"Mara, I met your brother for the first time today. He did not send me to you."

"He . . . did . . . not send you?" she said hesitantly, beginning to feel embarrassed.

"No, Mara, I needed no one to send me to you. I have searched for you for many months."

Mara was on her feet in a flash and faced him angrily. "I warn you, sir, I have heard that speech many times. You are supposed to say something like I have searched for you all of my life. I do not fall for pretty speeches." She knew she should dismiss him and return to the house, but she did not want to.

He ignored her outburst. "Please sit beside me, Mara. It seems I have offended you. I can assure you that is the last thing I would ever want to do. Again, I must remind you I am unaccustomed to your ways."

Mara surprised herself by sitting down beside him again. Why did she not want to leave? They were both quiet for a long time. The faint sound of music drifted into the garden, and the fragrant smell of roses encased Mara in its warm embrace. She was feeling withdrawn from the sound of laughter that came from the dancing couples. She was not a part of them. This man had reached inside of her to spark to life that which she thought was dead.

"Mara, I have heard that you are going away next week."

"Yes, I am going to Philadelphia, then on to Paris."

"Paris. That is in France, I believe. It is across the Atlantic Ocean?"

She turned to him quickly. "Of course, everyone knows that."

"Will you be away for long?"

"Yes. I do not think I will ever return here to live."

"Why, Mara?"

She swallowed hard. "I have some very painful memories. I am hoping if I go away I will forget."