Lakota Princess Read Online Free

feelings are a little stronger, not less.”
    “’im? I…are ye in love?”
    “Yes, I…no…perhaps. I…yes.” She stopped, and staring down into the fragrant beauty of the stately garden below, she felt again the bitterness of something she could not change.
    It had been sudden. The Earl of Langsford hadn’t expected to die on the return voyage to England, hadn’t expected his heart to fail him. And yet it had.
    He’d had to act quickly; there hadn’t been time. And he’d had to convince his young charge; persuading her so thoroughly to do as he’d wanted that she’d had no choice but to break a vow; a vow she had made to Black Bear, a man she had loved—loved even still today.
    A small sound escaped Estrela’s throat.
    Why did she torture herself with this?
    It had been so long ago. What did it matter now? It was all a part of the past she could not change.
    Perhaps if the Earl had taken the time to explain things to her, she wouldn’t now feel this ache, wouldn’t now yearn for something she could never have.
    It was not to be.
    The Earl had been desperate. He’d shown her papers—legal papers—giving him the right to do what he asked of her. He had reasoned with her, pleading with her. He’d summoned the captain of their ship to his bedside.
    But Estrela had remained adamant. She’d made a vow to her love, to Mato Sapa, Black Bear, and she couldn’t, she wouldn’t break it.
    In the end, though, she had realized this was the Earl’s last request. He lay dying before her. He lay in pain. He’d pleaded with her. And Estrela, looking at him then, could not continue her argument. The Earl’s need had been more than hers.
    And so she had done as he’d asked.
    She had married.
    Married a man by proxy. A man she had never met; a man she knew nothing about; a man she could not find.
    She stood at the doors now and sighed.
    She shouldn’t have thought about him. Hadn’t she learned, long ago, that thoughts of the American West, his memory brought pain? Hadn’t she taught herself to keep away from his memory? It was the wind that had done it today. It was the wind that had brought him back to her after so many years, carrying his scent to her. It was the breeze, which even now, seemed to whisper his name.
    And though the Indians believed one should always listen to the wind, Estrela balked at doing so.
    “M’lady? Please forgive me. I shouldna ’ave asked ye if ye still loved the man.”
    Estrela felt Anna’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault,” Estrela said. “I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to stop thinking of him. I can’t stop thinking of my home on the plains. And this after all these years of carefully burying those memories.” She paused. “Yes, Anna,” she said. “I fell in love.”
    Anna was quiet for several moments. At last, clearing her throat, she ventured, “Ye could return.”
    Estrela might have cried. How many times had she wished that? But it was not to be. “I can never return,” she said. “I can never go back.”
    “And why could ye not?”
    “I broke a promise I’d made to someone there.”
    “’Tis not a sin. Ye could still go back.”
    “Anna.” Estrela squeezed the hand that still lay on her shoulder. “I made a vow to a man there to marry him. If I go back, I would have to marry him, and I can’t.”
    “I still dunna understand. Did ye love t’is man?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then—”
    “Anna,” Estrela cried, turning around. “I am married to another.”
    Anna said nothing—not even a murmur.
    “’Tis a long story.”
    “I ’ave time.”
    Estrela glanced at her friend briefly before setting her gaze onto something else. “You must swear to me that you will not repeat what I am to tell you. I was once told by a trusted friend that if anyone else knew of this, my life would be in grave danger.”
    Anna nodded. “I swear. I am ’onored t’at ye would trust me so.”
    Estrela, her glance focused elsewhere,