by Karen Kay
Karen Kay
The Princess and the Wolf
Dedication
This book is dedicated to some very special people, who not only inspired me, but helped get me through what I am referring to as the summer from…Well, perhaps we shouldn’t go there.
For Thomas Lechner and Arlen Lieberman, who together inspired the image of the prince.
For Lokesh Bharadwaj and Kalbana Bharadwaj, loan officers extraordinaire.
For Arlene Richards, a friend for almost thirty-four years, and an incredibly competent financial advisor.
For Donna-Gail Wilcox and Caroline Veech, who both listened and helped.
For my daughter, Trina, who also helped.
For every single person in the Advanced Organization, III FLAG, and in particular to Betty Stafford. What would I have done without you?
For David Pomeranz, whose musical genius humbles me.
For Diana Venegas, who is probably one of the most beautiful women of my acquaintance.
For Bob and Joyce Bailey. How fortunate I am that you are a part of my family.
And for my husband, Paul Bailey, who continues to set my senses afire. Our love is truly a spiritual awakening.
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Note to the Reader
Chapter 1
“Maria, come quickly,” Princess Sierra called to her English maid-in-waiting.
Chapter 2
“Maria, at last you have returned. Did you succeed in…
Chapter 3
She was going to kill Prince Alathom. Simple, pure, straightforward…
Chapter 4
“Do you wish anything else before we go ashore?”
Chapter 5
High Wolf could practically hear the strains of the violins…
Chapter 6
The sun shone brightly on the trio as they rode…
Chapter 7
Red Hair and High Wolf never counselled.
Chapter 8
It was high noon and the sun, bright on this…
Chapter 9
At the first hint that something had gone amiss, High…
Chapter 10
All was quiet until, off in the distance, came a…
Chapter 11
Saaaa, their voices had drawn attention, and High Wolf silently…
Chapter 12
And so it had been.
Chapter 13
A dark shadow hung over their camp.
Chapter 14
She was asleep, sound asleep, he realized as he carefully…
Chapter 15
But Sierra didn’t expect him to turn his head into…
Chapter 16
“So that is what it means to make love,” she…
Chapter 17
“Ohhhhh! Is this truly necessary?”
Chapter 18
“A scout is expected to go naked into the environment,…
Chapter 19
What an odd sight, she thought, giving the Mandan village…
Chapter 20
Sierra awoke to the din of high-pitched whoops, the running…
Chapter 21
“My friend,” signed Running Coyote. “Look there. Have you ever…
Chapter 22
Each boy had cut his wrist, and High Wolf, gesturing…
Chapter 23
High Wolf left sweet sage on the gravesite, scattering bits…
Chapter 24
The sun had barely made its appearance in the sky…
Epilogue
And so it was that peace was finally established between…
Historical Note: The Steamboat Diana
Glossary
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Other Avon Romances
Copyright
About the Publisher
The Princess and the Wolf
“Why did you kiss me?”
At some length, High Wolf said, “Do not worry. I realize it was a mistake. It will not happen again.”
Sierra said, “How can you be so certain that we will never again kiss?”
“How?” he asked. “Because I can control my impulses. To what end do all these questions tend?”
She said, looking away from him, “I am attempting to understand if my life and my…feminine person are secure with you.”
He grunted. “You are safe with me. Let me assure you that I will keep my hands—and my lips—away from you from this day forward.”
“Will you?” she asked, glancing toward him and smiling.
He ground his teeth. “I give up. Tell me, what is it you want from me?”
Facing him fully, she leaned in and grinned before saying, “Mr. High Wolf, I ask a very simple thing. I merely want you to do it again.”
Note to the Reader
THE SCOUT: Traditionally, North American Indian tribes called their scouts wolves. These scouts were the most trusted individuals within the tribe, belonging to a mysterious medicine society of their own. Upon their trusted word stood the well-being and safety of the tribe and every member in it. Even chiefs bowed down to the wisdom of their scouts. These men were warriors, trackers and trailblazers, but most of all these were men of incredible skill and pride. This series honors them.
THE STORY: The year of 2004 celebrates the bicentennial of the Lewis and Clark adventure. And so, perhaps it is fitting that this story is inspired by the youngest member of that exposition, Sacagawea’s baby, Baptiste Chareonneau.
Baptiste Chareonneau led an extraordinary life. Capturing the admiration of not only Captain Clark of the Lewis and Clark expedition, he also charmed a European prince, who endeavored to befriend the lad.
In 1823 Baptiste and Prince Paul of Wurtemberg, Germany, set sail for the European continent, and for six years (from the age of sixteen to twenty-two), Baptiste lived in a royal castle and betook a classical education, which included speaking, reading and writing the languages of English, French, German and Spanish.
In late 1829, Prince Paul and Baptiste returned to the Americas. Here, somewhere along the route, Baptiste and the prince separated, and never saw one another again. Baptiste went on to become a mountain man and a scout for various private and governmental parties. Why the two friends parted remains a mystery, as none of Prince Paul’s published works mention the affair. It is, however, speculated that their separation was less than amicable.
The mystery of Baptiste became highly enigmatic, since he never again corresponded with Prince Paul, nor did he keep a diary. However, because Baptiste went on to be one of the best scouts the West has ever known, we have learned of him from the writings of travelers at that time.
Perhaps one of the most interesting aspects of Baptiste’s life is that he neither married, nor produced heirs, and this in a land where a man could easily have taken more than one wife or mistress.
What happened? Why did he suddenly cut all ties to the prince, to Europe?
This story, although the characters and events in it are the product of the author’s imagination, is a supposition as to what might have happened and, were this a more forgiving world, what could have happened…
Chapter 1
Southern Germany, The Black Forest Region
Baden-Baden
A Royal Estate and Castle
1824
“Maria, come quickly,” Princess Sierra called to her English maid-in-waiting. “There is not a moment to be lost.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” said Maria, stepping into Princess Sierra’s bedroom chamber.
“We must hurry.”
“Yes, Your Highness. We?”
“Yes, we two. I will require you to pack as much clothing as y
ou can into a very light traveling bag…and with all due haste. No, not the chest,” she instructed, “a simple satchel that even I could carry. That will do.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” said Maria, as she abandoned the chest and hurried toward the wardrobe. But no sooner had the maid thrown wide the wardrobe door than a knock came on the princess’s chamber door.
Sierra straightened away from the desk where, though standing, she had been busily scribbling out a note. Head held high, shoulders back, she gazed at the door as though it might bear tidings of misfortune. Her countenance, usually clear and bright, was unnaturally pale and frozen; her eyes were wide.
“Please see who it is, Maria,” said the princess in a whisper, “but do not let them enter. You must make some excuse. After all, ’tis a very late hour.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” replied Maria, quietly closing the wardrobe and treading toward the chamber’s door.
“Wait,” whispered Sierra. “Slowly, slowly,” she instructed, as she herself rushed toward the bed on tiptoe and quickly threw back the bedcovers.
Mid-stride, Maria paused for a moment, glancing toward her mistress; Sierra looked back at her. Indeed, so strong was the connection between them that for a moment the maid started for the bed, as though to help the princess. But Sierra waved her away, putting a finger to her lips. “Sh-h-h.”
Maria nodded, and turning away, stepped toward the chamber’s door and opened it, but only a crack.
Maria spoke. However, from Sierra’s position across the room, she could decipher nothing of what was being said, unhappily confined to hearing no more than muffled voices. Within moments, however, Maria closed the door and, spinning toward her mistress, approached the bed.
“Beg pardon, Princess,” said Maria, “but there is a note for you from Prince Alathom.”
Sierra visibly gulped, pausing. Then nodding, she placed her hand out for the letter. “I hope,” she murmured softly, as though to herself, “that there is not more trouble than that which we already have.”
Silence was all that met this declaration, while Maria remained quietly by the bed. Quickly, Sierra scanned the contents of the note, the loose curls of her dark ringlets easing forward against her temples, making her appear younger than she was. At sixteen, her countenance was usually transparent and impossibly carefree, but for the moment, her face was marred by a frown. At length, she folded the paper and absentmindedly placed it within the folds of her chemise.
“’Tis not bad tidings,” said the princess, her gaze caught unseeingly on some object across the room, “but our plans have been changed, I fear. And though it seems not unsatisfactory, I do not like it.”
The princess glanced up briefly at her maid. However, when Maria remained mute, Sierra went on to say, “Though I realize that in the past you have given me your vow of silence, Maria, I must beg it of you once more. For I fear I have need of someone to talk to.”
“Yes, Your Highness, you have my word.”
Sierra nodded, sighing. “We are to escape together, tonight, the three of us, Prince Alathom, High Wolf and myself. But this note tells me that Prince Alathom has decided that we must devise our own escapes, each separately. Otherwise he fears our scheme will be discovered.
“Both High Wolf and myself are to meet as planned, in our usual spot, but Prince Alathom himself has gone on to the ship to prepare the way for us. There he will wait for us. It seems simple enough…Yet I don’t like it.”
Maria inclined her head, as though in agreement.
“The prince also begs me,” continued the princess, “to send notice of the change in plans to High Wolf. Maria, you must do this for me, for I cannot leave the castle until I finish the note I have begun to Papa…”
“Yes. Of course I will do this for you.”
Sierra nodded absentmindedly. “You know the spot of which I speak. You are perhaps the only other person besides the three of us who is aware of our secret meeting place. High Wolf is to be there at the midnight hour, but he is expecting both myself and Prince Alathom. You must take a note to him so that he understands what is now to be. And then you must come back here in all due haste, for I fear that I will need your help in leaving this palace.”
Maria nodded.
“Do you think you can do all these things I ask? You have little time to accomplish it.”
“I do, Your Highness; I will. But may I ask where are the three of you destined to go?”
“To Scotland,” said Sierra, standing up, away from the bed, her feet still encompassed in satin slippers. But no sooner had she found her footing upon the floor than she was hurrying toward the desk, her steps practically flying over the lush carpet of her bedchamber. “’Tis in our minds to leave here quickly, and we plan to set sail tonight. High Wolf and I will be married there, and once that is done, we will return.”
“’Tis a bold thing the three of you plan.”
“That it is, Maria. That it is. Yet it is what I must do, what the prince must do—and High Wolf, too, for a marriage between myself and the prince would be a most unhappy affair. I do not understand why our parents have done as they have, for they have gone against our wishes this night. You must know that we were expecting quite another announcement at the ball…”
“Yes, Your Highness, that I do.”
“Still, all things considered, I believe the plan the three of us have conceived is a good one, for it will force my parents to see that I am an independent creature who knows her own heart. Plus, it will do much toward establishing the idea of independence amongst our people. It is Prince Alathom who suggested the scheme, for I fear that High Wolf and I were too stunned by my parents’ announcement of my engagement to Prince Alathom. On my honor, I believe that at that moment, neither High Wolf nor I was able to envision more than an uncommon hurt.”
“As well you might,” said Maria. “And do you think His Royal Highness, your father, will accept a marriage between yourself and Mr. High Wolf?”
Sierra sighed. “It is our hope that he will. But if he will not—if he banishes us—then we shall set sail to the Americas, a land where people are free to marry the person of their choice; where people have a voice in what happens in their government and particularly where the people have a say in their lives. It is not an unattractive alternative, Maria, since I have heard that America is the place where the ideal of Greek independence still lives.”
Sierra smiled, her look reflective, but it lasted a moment only. With haste, as well as with a grace befitting her station in life, she sat down at her writing desk, and taking out a clean sheet of paper, began to write.
“How long do you intend to stay in Scotland, Your Highness?”
“Only a fortnight, that is, if the ship’s sail is what it is said to be.”
Maria nodded. “I will pack accordingly, then.”
“No, Maria, I will take very few things with me, for I must pretend that I am going nowhere. There, done,” said Sierra, holding up the paper and fanning it in the air, that the ink might dry more quickly.
At last, however, it was done, and she set seal to the letter. Standing up, she folded the paper and placed it urgently into Maria’s hands. “Hurry now,” she said, “and carry this note to High Wolf. Take my seal with you, so he will know that it comes directly from me.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
At that moment, a heavy knock fell onto the chamber’s door. Both women jumped at the sound. Surprised, they both glanced at one another, as if seeking comfort from each other.
“Go see who it is,” whispered Sierra, “but let me reach the sanctuary of the bed first.”
Maria nodded.
“Sierra Morena Colheart,” came a loud, male voice on the other side of the door, the voice of her father. “I know you are awake.”
Sierra swallowed hard. What bit of bad luck was this? She was not in any mind to confront her father.
Earlier, she had been scratching out a note to her father, informing him of her reasons for ru
nning away. At present, that note lay within her drawer, awaiting only her signature, for she had hoped to leave it with Maria, along with instructions to give it to her father. But not until she and the prince and High Wolf were safely away.
Certainly, such was an act of cowardliness on her part. But what other choice did she have? Were her father to discover what the three of them planned…
But now he was here at her bedchamber, allowing her no option but to confront the man on her own, without the aid of either one of her friends. It would be a most difficult task, for in the past Sierra was prone to confide her troubles to her father.
Taking a deep breath for courage, and gaining her place once more in the bed, Sierra pulled the bedcovers up to her chin. This done, she gave a nod to Maria, mouthing the words, “Go to High Wolf while I speak to Papa. And Godspeed.”
Again Maria acknowledged her mistress with a quick nod and paced slowly toward the chamber’s entrance. Opening the door, Maria curtsied, saying, “Good evening, Your Royal Highness.”
“Good evening, Maria. You may leave us now.”
Maria arose slowly, and with a quick look sent to her mistress, backed out through the door, shutting it without even the tiniest of clicks. And then she was gone.
Sierra’s father paused awkwardly for a moment before coming directly to the point. He began, “You and Prince Alathom are to be married tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow?” Throwing a quick glance toward the entryway, Sierra could see that His Royal Highness, the grand duke—her father—was ill-at-ease. But at the moment, she was beyond giving consideration to his discomfort, and she said, “Papa, how could you?”
