***
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.
"Why would you consider going to America, Breanna?"
She could not tell him that her life would cease to have any meaning with him gone. Instead, she told him a half-truth. "You have told me so much about your America. I want to see it for myself."
"It is impossible, Breanna. The journey will be difficult. You have not been brought up to endure hardships such as the ones I will encounter once I leave civilization as you know it. Besides," he reminded her, "you have been ill and will need time to recover."
"When do you leave?"
"Within the week."
"I will be well by then, Dakota. Your father took your mother to America, and conditions then were much worse than they are now."
"Yes, my father took my mother, and you know what happened to them. Had he left her safely in England, they might both be alive today."
Breanna heard the bitterness in Dakota's voice.
"I am strong, Dakota. If you take me with you, I will not once complain. I promise you."
In many ways she reminded him of a little girl. He could feel himself weakening. Perhaps if she were to see where he had come from, she would better be able to realize the person he was.
"No, Breanna" he said regretfully, "and that is my final word. If I took you, there would be times when you would curse me for allowing you to come along. Will you stay here and look after my grandfather? The family is what he lived for. Do not allow him to die without a member of the family at his bedside. Will you do this for me, Breanna?"
She felt the pain of tears behind her eyes and turned away. "Yes, I will do this for you." She hurried from the room, fearing she would cry in front of him.
***
As night settled over London, dark clouds gathered in the east. Breanna felt restless, as she always did when a storm was brewing, and she paced the floor.
Dakota had been in his grandfather's room all day, and she dared not disturb him. She knew it would do no good to keep begging him to take her with him, for he would never relent.
The servants had gone to bed hours ago, and Breanna was caught up in the silence of the house.
Streaks of lightning flashed across the sky, and the double doors flew open from a gust of wind, fanning the candles until they flickered and went out. Breanna used the light from the fireplace to guide her across the room. Icy wind and rain pelted her face and body, and she had to clamp her teeth together to keep them from chattering, but she finally managed to close the doors and bolt them.
It wasn't a sound that alerted her to the fact that she wasn't alone in the room; it was more a feeling. When she turned around, a flash of lightning revealed Dakota's face.
Breanna caught her breath at the sight of intense longing she saw in his eyes. Were the thunder and lightning reminding him of that first stormy night they had come together in a uniting fire that had threatened to consume them both?
She wasn't aware that she had moved, but she must have, because she found herself locked in Dakota's arms. A whimper escaped her throat as his warm lips nuzzled the lobe of her ear.
"I have wanted this for so long," he murmured. "I thought you would never allow me to touch you again. I am glad you willingly came into my arms.''
She glanced at him questioningly. Had she come to him? "Dakota, I . . . wasn't . . ."
"Shhh," he whispered as he framed her face with his hands. "Have the servants gone to bed?''
"Yes," she said breathlessly.
He lifted her in his arms and carried her across the room. "You are wet and will become ill if you don't get out of these clothes."
Breanna leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes as he took the stairs with ease. The thundering of his heart matched the racing of her pulse.
Placing Breanna on her feet, he began the slow process of undressing her. Each movement he made left her trembling, not with cold, but with wild anticipation. The troubles of yesterday did not matter—tomorrow did not exist—there was only now, and the desire that burned between them that would not be denied.
Breanna felt a coldness creep into her body as Dakota removed the last article of damp clothing. In the darkness, she felt something soft and warm enclose her body and knew that he had wrapped her in a blanket. With soft motions, he began rubbing her dry. Her knees went weak when his hand slipped across her breasts. Moments later, she felt his tongue encircle her nipple. Then she felt him lift her into his arms.
The storm intensified, with lightning and thunder charging the night sky and rain pelting the roof. A flash of lightning revealed Dakota's hard, muscled body as well as the heart-wrenching longing in his green eyes.
"Breanna," he breathed. "You are like a cleansing wind; you sweep through my body, leaving nothing untouched. Like a fire, you ignite a flame in my heart. I am overwhelmed by you, consumed by you. You are as much a part of me as the heart that pumps blood to my body."
This was not the first time Dakota had compared her to the wind. His beautiful words went around and around in her mind, heightening her feelings to a fevered pitch. Her body was on fire, and she gravitated toward the virile body that promised joy beyond endurance, fulfillment that would leave her breathless. His arms were a comforting heaven, his lips invoked burning desire. With every nerve in her body, she was conscious of Dakota.
With gentle control, he brought her fully against him. "I burn for you, Breanna. Can it be that you have missed this also?"
"Yes, I admit it."
"Give me something to take with me when I leave, something I can remember when I can no longer see you or touch you."
Tears wet her cheeks as she clutched him to her, wanting to hold on to him so he would never want to leave her.
His hands were working magic on her body, and she became his to command. "Sweet Breanna," he said, smothering her lips with a fevered kiss.
She was mindless, and unable to do more than press her lips against his. With a groan, he rolled her over, murmuring her name over and over.
Breanna was lost in a world that had no beginning and no end. As Dakota pressed against her soft body, she was burning with a fire that raged out of control.
She did not see Dakota's eyes fill with pain or the anguished twist to his lips. Dakota knew he could rule Breanna's body with a touch of his hand, but would he ever rule her heart?
Her heart was what he craved above all else.
He sank into her and sensuously pulled back, repeating the motion until it reached fever-ridden heights. When Breanna's body erupted in total satisfaction, he crushed her to him, knowing he held a part of her that no man would ever have. He had made joy sing in her blood, and she had given her whole being to him in the moment of her surrender.
Breanna felt her body relax, and Dakota rolled over and pulled her into his arms. For a moment, while the tide of passion ebbed, Breanna was content to lay his arms. But suddenly she remembered the picture of Rye Saffron in Dakota's arms and it tore at her heart.
"Dakota," she said, hating herself for needing to know. "How can I know that you did not . . . make love to Lady Rye Saffron?"
He was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was hardly above a whisper. "I have rarely had my word challenged, but you do not yet know that I am an honorable man. I have already told you once that I did not lie with that woman. What else can I say to convince you?"
"I saw her—"
"You saw what she wanted you to see. I never liked the woman, but at first I believed she was destitute and needed help. I did not know what her deceitfulness would cost me."
"What did it cost you, Dakota?" she asked, remembering the pearl necklace and the extravagant gown the woman had been wearing.
"It cost me your trust, Breanna, it almost cost me you." He hugged her tightly. "And it could have cost you your life."
Breanna had decided that her husband was either the kindest man she had ever known, or the most devious. "I want to believe in you, Dakota, but I know what I saw."
"Until you learn to trust me, Breanna, there can be no real substance between us." He sat up and moved off the bed. "I will always hope the time will come when you will come to me with more in your heart than questions."
She could hear him pulling on his clothing. Why did she have the feeling she had wounded him deeply? But surely it was he who had betrayed her?
"Breanna, I have several letters to send out. You needn't worry that I will disturb you again tonight."
She heard the door open and close. With a heavy sigh, she wondered if she would ever know this complicated man she had married.
That night Breanna slept very little. What she didn't know was that her husband slept not at all.
***
Dakota paced back and forth, damning the circumstances that had burdened him with the knowledge of two different cultures, making him at war with himself. If he were an Arapaho, he would go to the woman he loved and bend her to his will. But his English side cautioned him to be patient with Breanna.
It was almost dawn when he went to his grandfather's room. Nodding, he indicated that the nurse should leave them alone.
Dakota seated himself on the edge of the bed, wishing this man who held on to life by the thinnest thread would give him some sign, some insight on what to do.
He held the old man's hand, which was hot and dry to the touch.
"I have to go away, Grandfather. It is not my wish to leave you alone at this time. I have to think you would understand that I owe something to the people who raised me. I did not ask to be your grandson, nor do I want to take your place as head of this family. If God wills it so, I will return. If I do, I will take it as a sign that I should take my place as Marquess in your stead."
There was no sign that the Marquess had heard. Dakota gently tucked the hand under the coverlet, looking for the last time upon the face of his grandfather.
With a heavy heart and a much-troubled mind, he left the bedchamber, silently closing the door behind him.
26
Breanna was up before daybreak because Dakota would be leaving early this morning, and after what had passed between them the night before, she wasn't sure he would seek her out to tell her goodbye.
She hurriedly dressed in a cream-colored gown and twisted her hair into a knot, securing it to the top of her head. Pinching her cheeks to add color, she dashed downstairs, hoping she would be in time to share breakfast with her husband.
Hearing voices in the small dining room that was just off the kitchen, she pushed the door open and entered. Dakota, John, and Levi all came politely to their feet.
John smiled at Breanna and pulled out a chair for her to be seated. "You are up early," he commented.
She seated herself, noticing that Dakota hadn't spoken to her. "It's a lovely morning for travel," she murmured incoherently.
Levi tossed his napkin on the table and stood up, thinking it was time to give Dakota and Breanna a chance to be alone. "Me and John will be waiting for you out front," he told Dakota, "but there's no need to hurry."
"Wait," Breanna said, getting up and moving quickly over to stand beside the old hunter. "I just wanted to tell you that I will miss you, Levi. I feel that you are a great part of this family."
Levi saw tears swimming in her eyes and, on a crazy impulse, enfolded her in his arms. "I have been honored to know you, Breanna. You are one of the finest ladies I have ever met, and I will also miss you."
She rested her cheek against Levi's rough face and whispered so only he could hear. "Take care of him, Levi. Don't allow anything to happen to him."
The hunter nodded and released her. "No long faces today, Brean
na, and don't you fret. Before you get to missing us, you'll look up one day and there we'll be."
Breanna turned to Dakota, who still had not spoken. "I shall keep busy, Levi."
John stifled a make-believe yawn, while ambling out of the room. "I will not miss either of you. The life you live has played havoc with my peaceful existence," he said over his shoulder. "I yearn for a quiet life."
Suddenly Breanna and Dakota were alone. He walked slowly to her side, pulling her into his arms. "I shall count every day we are apart, dearest heart," he murmured in her ear. "If God its will, and circumstances permit it, I will soon return to hold you in my arms once more."
He raised his head, his green eyes probing her golden ones. "I will take the memory of last night with me and keep it in my heart always."
"Don't talk like that, Dakota." Desperation laced Breanna's words. "You make it sound as if you won't be coming back."
"Breanna, as long as there is breath in my body, I will return to you, for my desire for you is great."
She longed to hear him say he loved her and not that he merely desired her. "I will await your return."
"You will be with my grandfather as long as he needs you?"
"Yes, I will stay with him until the end," she assured him.
"Should you need anything, look to John, and he will lend you his support."
"I shall, Dakota."
His eyes moved over her face, taking in every soft curve, the blush of her cheek, the tears in her eyes. He wanted to imprint her likeness on his heart to sustain him through the days ahead, To leave her was to tear his heart out.
With his thumb, he wiped away her trailing tears, knowing he would always remember how her golden eyes glistened with sorrow at his leaving. Tenderly he kissed her lips. "An Indian does not like a lengthy good-bye, Breanna. It is enough to say I will think of you every day." He then abruptly turned away and left the room.
Dakota did not look back, so therefore, he did not see the beseeching hand Breanna held out to him.
She wanted to run after him, to once again beg him to take her with him. She felt as if a part of herself had been torn apart.
Dakota Dreams (Historical Romance) Page 25
