Crown's Spies Series - book 1 - The Lion's Lady by Julie Garwood

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Crown's Spies Series

book 1

The Lion's Lady

by

Julie Garwood

Product Description:

Christina Bennett had taken London society by storm. The ravishing beauty guarded the secret of her mysterious past until the night Lyon* Marquis of Lyonwood* stole a searching* sensuous kiss. An arrogant nobleman with a pirate's passions* he tasted the wild fire smoldering beneath Christina's cool charm and swore to posess her...
But the fiesty and defiant Christina would not be so easily conquered. Mistress of her heart and of her fortune* she resisted Lyon's sensuous caresses. She dared not surrender to his love...for then* she must also forsake her precious secret...and her promised destiny
:qatarw_com_52228917

محتوى مخفي

يجب عليك الرد لرؤية النص المخفي

محتوى مخفي

يجب عليك الرد لرؤية النص المخفي

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Contents


Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen

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Prologue


Contents - Next


The Black Hills* America* 1797
It was time to seek the vision.
The shaman waited for the Great Spirit to send him a sign. One month passed* then another* and still the gods ignored him. But the shaman was a patient man. He continued his daily prayers without complaint and waited for his humble petition to be heard.
When the moon was covered by a thick mist for four consecutive nights* the holy man knew the time had arrived. The Great Spirit had heard him.
He immediately began his preparations. After gathering his sacred powders* rattle* and drum* he made the slow climb to the top of the mountain. It was an arduous journey* made more difficult by his advanced years and the dense fog the evil spirits had surely sent to test his determination.
As soon as the old man reached the summit* he built a small fire in the center of the ledge overlooking the valley of the bitterroot. He sat down beside the flames with his face turned toward the sun. Then he reached for his powders.
First he sprinkled sage over the fire. The shaman knew all evil spirits hated the bitter smell. The scent would make them stop their mischief and leave the mountain.
The mist left the mountaintop the following morning* a signal to the holy one that the mischief makers had been chased away. He put the remaining sage powder away and began to feed incense to the flames. The scent was made sweet by the addition of sacred buffalo prairie grass. Incense would purify the air and was known to attract benevolent gods.
For three days and nights the shaman stayed close to the fire. He fasted and prayed* and on the fourth morning he reached for his rattle and drum. He then began the chant that would bring the Great Spirit closer.
During the black hours of the fourth night* the shaman's sacrifice was rewarded. The Great Spirit gave him his dream.
While the holy man slept* his mind was suddenly awakened to the vision. The sun appeared in the night sky. He saw a speck of black that grew and took shape* until it was magically transformed into a vast herd of buffalo. The magnificent animals thundered above the clouds towards him. An eagle* gray with white-tipped wings* flew overhead* leading them on.
As the buffalo drew closer* some of their faces became those of the holy man's ancestors who had traveled to the Afterlife. He saw his father and his mother* his brothers* too. The herd parted then* and in the middle stood a proud mountain lion. The animal's coat was as white as lightning* the spirit Thunderbolt's work no doubt* and the Great Spirit had given the lion's eyes the color of the sky.
The herd of buffalo again enclosed the lion before the dream abruptly ended.
The holy man returned to his village the following morning. His sister prepared a meal for him. Once he'd taken his fill* he went to the leader of the Dakota* a mighty warrior named Gray Eagle. He told his leader only that he must continue to guide his people. The holy man kept the rest of his vision to himself* for the full meaning had yet to be revealed to him. And then he returned to his tipi to remember his vision with his dyes. On a soft deerskin hide he painted a circle of buffalo. In the center he drew the mountain lion* making certain the color of the animal's coat was just as white as he could recall* the color of the eyes just as blue as a sky in summer. When the rendering was completed he waited for the dye to dry* then carefully folded the skin and put it away.
The dream continued to haunt the shaman. He'd hoped to be given some comforting message for his leader. Gray Eagle was grieving. The shaman knew his friend wanted to pass leadership on to a younger* more fit warrior. Since his daughter and grandson had been taken from him* the leader's heart hadn't belonged to his people. He was filled with bitterness and anger.
The holy man could offer his friend little comfort. And no matter how he tried* he couldn't ease his anguish.
From anguish came the legend.
Gray Eagle's daughter Merry and her son were returning from the dead. The Dakota woman knew her family believed both she and White Eagle had been killed. Gray Cloud* bastard leader of the tribe's outcasts* had deliberately provoked the battle near the river's edge. He'd left bits of Merry's clothing on the riverbank* too* in hopes Merry's husband would believe his wife and son had been swept away with the others by the swift current.
The tribe would still be in mourning. Though it seemed an eternity to Merry* it had actually only been eleven months since the attack. She'd kept careful count on her reed stick. There were eleven notches now. Two more were needed to complete a full year by the Dakota reckoning.
It was going to be a difficult homecoming. The tribe would welcome White Eagle back into the family. Merry wasn't worried about her son. He was* after all* first grandson of their chief* Gray Eagle. Yes* there'd be much rejoicing with his return to the fold.
The fear* of course* was for Christina.
Merry instinctively tightened her hold on her new daughter. "Soon* Christina*" she crooned softly to the baby. "We'll be home soon."
Christina didn't appear to be paying any attention to her mother's promise. The fidgety two-year-old was trying to wiggle out of her mother's lap and off the speckled mount* determined to walk beside her older brother. Merry's six-year-old son was leading the mare down the slope into the valley.
"Be patient* Christina*" Merry whispered. She gave her daughter another gentle squeeze to emphasize her order.
"Eagle." The baby wailed her brother's name.
White Eagle turned when his sister cried out to him. He smiled up at her* then slowly shook his head. "Do as our mother orders*" he instructed.
Christina ignored her brother's command. She immediately tried to hurl herself out of her mother's lap again. The little one was simply too young to understand caution. Though it was a considerable distance from the top of the horse to the hard ground* Christina didn't appear to be the least intimidated.
"My Eagle*" Christina shouted.
"Your brother must lead us down into the village* Christina*" Merry said. She kept her voice soft* hoping to calm the fretful child.
Christina suddenly turned and looked up at her mother. The little girl's blue eyes were filled with mischief. Merry couldn't contain her smile when she saw the disgruntled expression on her daughter's face. "My Eagle*" the child bellowed.
Merry slowly nodded. "My Eagle*" Christina shouted again* frowning up at her mother.
"Your Eagle*" Merry acknowledged with a sigh. Oh* how she wished Christina would learn to imitate her soft voice. Thus far* that lesson had failed. Such a little one she was* yet gifted with a voice that could shake the leaves off their branches.
"My mama*" Christina bellowed then* jabbing Merry's chest with her chubby fingers.
"Your mama*" Merry answered. She kissed her daughter* then brushed her hand across the mop of white-blond curls framing the baby's face. "Your mama*" Merry repeated* giving the child a fierce hug.
Comforted by the caress* Christina settled back against her mother's chest and reached for one of Merry's braids. When she'd captured the tip of one braid* she put her thumb in her mouth and closed her eyes* using her other hand to rub Merry's hair across the bridge of her freckled nose. In a matter of minutes* she was sound asleep.
Merry pulled the buffalo hide up over the baby so that her delicate skin would be shielded from the summer's midday sun. Christina was clearly exhausted from their long journey. And she'd been through so much distress in the past three months. It was a wonder to Merry that the child could sleep at all.
Christina had taken to trailing behind White Eagle. She mimicked his every action* though Merry noticed the baby always kept her in sight as well. One mother had left her* and Merry knew Christina was worried she and White Eagle would also disappear. The little girl had become extremely possessive* a trait Merry hoped would lessen in time.
"They watch us from the trees*" White Eagle told his mother. The boy stopped* waiting for his mother's reaction.
Merry nodded. "Keep going* son. And remember* stop only when you've reached the tallest tipi."
White Eagle smiled. "I still remember where my grandfather's tipi is*" he said. "We've only been away eleven months*" he added* pointing to the reed stick.
"I'm pleased you remember*" Merry said. "Do you also remember how much you love your father and your grandfather?"
The boy nodded. His expression turned solemn. "It will be difficult for my father* won't it?"
"He's an honorable man*" Merry announced. "Yes* it will be difficult for him* but in time he'll see the lightness in it."
White Eagle straightened his shoulders* turned* and continued on down the hill.
He walked like a warrior. The boy's arrogant swagger was almost identical to his father's. Merry's heart ached with pride for her son. White Eagle would become chief of his people when his training was completed. It was his destiny to rule the warriors* just as it had now become her destiny to raise the white-skinned baby girl sleeping so innocently in her arms.
Merry tried to clear her mind of everything but the coming confrontation. She kept her gaze directed on her son's shoulders as he led the mare into the center of the village. Merry silently chanted the prayer her shaman had taught her to chase away her fears.
More than a hundred Dakota stared at Merry and White Eagle. No one said a word. White Eagle walked straight ahead and came to a halt when he'd reached the tipi of his chief.
The older women edged closer until they surrounded Merry's horse. Their faces mirrored their astonishment. Several women reached out to touch Merry's leg* as if the feel of her skin beneath their hands would confirm that what they saw was real.
They petted and sighed. Merry smiled over their show of affection. She glanced up and saw Sunflower* her husband's younger sister. Her good friend was openly weeping.
Thunder suddenly broke the silence. The ground trembled from the pounding of horses being ridden back down into the valley. The warriors had obviously been informed of Merry's return. Black Wolf* Merry's husband* would be leading them.
The flap of the chief's tipi opened just as the braves dismounted. Merry watched her father. Gray Eagle stood at the entrance and stared at her a long while. His leathered face showed his stunned reaction* but his eyes* so warm and kind* soon misted with emotion.

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Everyone turned to watch their leader now. They waited for him to give the signal. It was Gray Eagle's duty to be the first to welcome Merry and her son back into his family.
Gray Eagle turned just as Merry's husband walked over to stand by his side. Merry immediately lowered her head in submission. Her hands started trembling* and she thought her heart was pounding loud enough to wake Christina. Merry knew her control would vanish if she looked at her husband now. She would certainly start to cry. That wouldn't be dignified* of course* for such a show of emotion would shame her proud husband.
It wouldn't be honorable either. Merry loved Black Wolf* but the circumstances had drastically changed since she'd last seen him. Her husband would have to make an important decision before he welcomed her back into his arms.
The chief suddenly raised his hands to the Great Spirit above. His palms faced the sun.
The signal was given. A resounding cheer echoed throughout the valley. Chaos erupted as Merry's son was embraced first by his grandfather and then by his father.
Christina stirred in Merry's arms. Though the buffalo skin concealed the baby* there were several startled gasps when the movement was noticed by some of the women.
Black Wolf held his son* but his gaze was directed at his wife. Merry dared a timid look up at him* caught his pleased smile* and tried to smile back.
Gray Eagle nodded several times* showing her his joy and his approval* then slowly made his way over to her side.
The holy man stood outside the purifying tipi* watching the reunion. He understood now why he hadn't seen Merry's face or White Eagle's in his vision. The rest of the dream's meaning continued to elude him. "I am a patient man*" he whispered to the spirits. "I will accept one gift at a time."
While the shaman watched* a path was made for the chief. The braves ignored Merry and gathered around Black Wolf and his son. The women swelled forward again* for they wished to hear what their leader would say to his daughter.
Some of the more enthusiastic braves began to shriek with joy. The shrill noise jarred Christina awake.
The baby had little liking for her dark confinement. She pushed the buffalo hide away from her face just as Gray Eagle reached Merry's side.
Merry couldn't decide who looked more surprised. Christina seemed to be quite fascinated by the huge man watching her so intently. She was a bit uncertain* too* for she put her thumb back into her mouth and scooted up against her mother's chest.
Gray Eagle didn't even try to mask his astonishment. He stared at the child a long moment* then turned to look up at his daughter. "There is much for you to tell us* daughter*" he announced.
Merry smiled. "There is much I would explain* Father."
Christina caught her mother's smile. She immediately pulled her thumb out of her mouth and looked around her with curiosity. When she found her brother in the crowd of strangers* she reached out with both hands for him. "Eagle*" she shouted.
Gray Eagle took a step back* then turned to look at his grandson.
Christina fully expected her brother to come and fetch her. When he didn't immediately obey her order* she tried to squirm out of her mother's lap. "My Eagle* Mama*" she bellowed.
Merry ignored her daughter now. She stared at her husband. Black Wolf's expression was hard* impassive. He stood with his legs braced apart and his arms folded across his chest. She knew he'd heard Christina call her mama. The baby spoke the Siouan language as well as any Dakota child and had shouted her claim loud enough for the entire village to hear.
Sunflower rushed over to help her friend dismount. Merry handed Christina to her* thought to caution her friend to keep a firm hold* but it was already too late. Christina easily slipped to the ground* landing on her padded backside. Before Sunflower or Merry could reach for her* the little one grabbed hold of Gray Eagle's legs* pulled herself up* and ran to her brother. The baby's laughter trailed behind her.
No one quite knew what to make of the beautiful white-skinned baby. A few older squaws reached out to touch Christina's golden curls* for their curiosity was too great to contain. The little girl allowed their pawing. She stood beside her brother* barely reaching his knees* mimicking his stance* and clung to his hand.
While Christina didn't mind being touched* she made it quite clear she didn't want anyone near her brother. When the chief tried to embrace his grandson again* Christina tried to push his hands away. "My Eagle*" she shouted up at him.
Merry was horrified by her daughter's behavior. She grabbed Christina* managed a weak smile for her father* then whispered to her son* "Go with your father." Merry's husband had abruptly turned and disappeared inside Gray Eagle's tipi.
The moment she was separated from her brother* Christina started crying. Merry lifted the baby into her arms and tried without success to soothe her. Christina hid her face in the crook of her mother's neck and wailed her distress.
Merry's friends surrounded her. No one dared ask about the child until a full accounting had been given to her husband and her chief* but they smiled at the baby and patted her soft skin. Some even crooned the sleeping chant to the little one.
The shaman caught Merry's attention then. She immediately hurried over to stand in front of the holy man* then affected a rather awkward bow.
"Welcome home* my child*" the holy man said in greeting.
Merry could barely hear the old man over the screams of her daughter. "I have missed you* Wakan*" she said. Christina's wails became ear-piercing* and Merry gently shook her. "Hush* baby*" she said. She turned back to the shaman and said* "My daughter roars like a lioness. Perhaps* in time* she will learn…"
The incredulous look on the shaman's face stopped Merry's explanation. "You are ill* Wakan?" she asked* worry sounding in her voice.
The holy man shook his head. Merry noticed that his hands trembled when he reached out to touch Christina. "Her hair is the color of white lightning*" he whispered.
Christina suddenly turned to stare at the shaman. She soon forgot her distress and actually smiled at the strange-looking man whose ceremonial feathers seemed to grow out of the top of his head.
Merry heard the shaman gasp. He did seem ill to her. "My new daughter is known by the name Christina* holy one*" she said. "If we are allowed to stay* she will need a Dakota name* and your blessing* too."
"She is the lioness*" the shaman announced. His face broke into a wide smile. "She will stay* Merry. Do not worry about your child. The buffalo will protect her. The spirits will counsel your father* and your husband as well. Be patient* child. Be patient."
Merry wished she could question the shaman further* but his order to wait couldn't be ignored. His reaction to Christina puzzled her. She wasn't given more time to worry about it* however* for Sunflower took hold of her hand and pulled her toward her home.
"You look exhausted* Merry* and must certainly be hungry. Come into my tipi and we will share our midday meal together."
Merry nodded. She followed her friend across the clearing. Once they were settled on the soft blankets inside Sunflower's home* Merry fed her daughter and then let her explore the tipi.
"I've been away such a long time*" Merry whispered. "Yet when I returned* my husband didn't come to me."
"Black Wolf still loves you*" Sunflower answered. "My brother has mourned you* Merry."
When Merry didn't comment* Sunflower continued* "It is as though you have returned to us from the dead. After the attack* when no one could find you or White Eagle* some believed you'd been swept away by the river. Black Wolf wouldn't believe that. No* he led the attack against the outcasts* thinking he would find you in their summer village. When he returned without you* he was filled with grief. Now you've come home to us* Merry* yet you bring another man's child with you."
Sunflower turned to look at Christina. "You know how much your husband hates the white man* Merry. I think that is the reason he didn't come to your side. Why have you taken this baby for your own? What happened to her mother?"
"Her mother is dead*" Merry answered. "It's a long story* my friend* and you know I must first explain to my husband and my father. I will tell you this much*" she added in a firm voice. "If the tribe decides against accepting Christina* then I must leave. She is now my daughter."
"But she has white skin*" Sunflower protested* clearly appalled by Merry's fierce announcement.

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"I've noticed the color of her skin*" Merry answered with a smile.
Sunflower saw the humor in her friend's comment and laughed. The sound was immediately imitated by Christina. "She's such a beautiful child*" Sunflower remarked.
"She'll have a pure heart* like her mother*" Merry said.
Sunflower turned to reclaim a clay jar Christina had just overturned. Merry helped her scoop up the healing herbs the baby had sprinkled on the ground. "She's a very curious child*" Merry commented* apologizing for her daughter.
Sunflower laughed again. The tipi looked as though a strong wind had just passed through. The baby echoed the sound again.
"It isn't possible to dislike such a joyful child*" Sunflower remarked. The smile soon faded when she added* "But your husband* Merry. You know he'll never accept her."
Merry didn't argue with her friend. She prayed Sunflower was wrong* though. It was imperative that Black Wolf claim Christina as his daughter. The promise she'd given Christina's mother couldn't truly be fulfilled without her husband's help.
Sunflower couldn't resist the urge to take the baby into her arms. She reached out for Christina* but the little one scooted around her and sat down in Merry's lap.
"I would like to rest for just a few minutes* if you'll watch Christina for me. I warn you*" Merry hastily added when
Sunflower nodded eagerly* "My daughter gets into constant mischief. She's too curious to be fearful."
Sunflower left the tipi to gain permission from her husband for Merry and Christina to stay with them. When she returned* she found Merry sound asleep. Christina was curled up against her mother's stomach. Merry's arm was draped over the baby. The little one was also sleeping. Her thumb was in her mouth* and one of Merry's braids rested on her face.
Merry and her daughter slept for several hours. The sun was just setting when Merry carried Christina down to the river to bathe. Sunflower trailed behind with fresh clothing in her arms.
The baby loved the water. The day had been hot and sticky* and the child seemed to delight in splashing in the cool water. She even allowed Merry to wash her hair without making too much fuss.
Merry had just emerged from the water with her daughter when Black Wolf suddenly appeared. He stood on the bank with his hands resting on his hips—a challenging stance* yet Merry could see the tender expression in his eyes.
He confused her* giving her this show of affection now. Merry turned away from her husband to dress herself and Christina.
Black Wolf waited until Merry had finished her task* then motioned for his sister to take the child away. Sunflower had to pry Christina's hands away from her mother. The little girl screamed in distress* but Merry didn't argue with the command. She knew Sunflower would look after her child. As soon as they were alone* Merry turned to face her husband. Her voice trembled as she told him everything that had happened to her since being taken captive.
"At first I thought their leader* Gray Cloud* wanted to keep us so that he could barter with you. I knew your hatred for each other was fierce* but I didn't think he meant to kill us. We rode for several days—nights* too* when the moon was bright enough—and finally made camp above the brown valley of the white trails. Gray Cloud was the only one who touched us. He boasted to the others that he was going to kill your son and your wife. He blamed you* husband* for his dishonor."
Black Wolf nodded when Merry paused in her recitation* yet didn't offer any comment. Merry took a deep breath before continuing. "He beat our son until he thought he'd killed him. Then he turned on me."
Merry's voice broke. She turned to look at the river. "He used me the way a man uses an unwilling woman*" she whispered.
She started to weep then* for her shame was suddenly overwhelming. The memories tore at her heart. Black Wolf reached out to take her into his arms. His touch immediately calmed her. Merry sagged against his chest. She wished she could turn around and cling to her husband* but she knew she needed to tell the rest of her story before she sought his solace.
"An argument broke out among them* for they'd seen the wagons below. Though Gray Cloud was against it* in the end it was agreed by the others that they would attack the whites and take their horses. Gray Cloud stayed behind. He was furious because they went against his decision."
Merry didn't have enough strength to continue. She wept softly. Black Wolf waited several minutes for his wife to go on with her story* then gently forced her to turn around to face him. Her eyes were tightly closed. He wiped the tears away from her cheeks. "Tell me the rest of this*" he commanded* his voice as soft as a gentle wind.
Merry nodded. She tried to take a step back* but Black Wolf increased his hold. "Your son awakened and began to moan. He was in terrible pain* husband. Gray Cloud rushed over to our son. He pulled his knife and was about to kill White Eagle. I screamed and edged closer* as close as the rope binding my hands and legs would allow. I cursed Gray Cloud* trying to goad him into turning his anger on me. My plan distracted him. He used his fist to silence me* so fiercely I fell backwards. The blow made me sleep* and when I next opened my eyes I saw a white woman kneeling beside me.
She held White Eagle in her arms. Christina* her baby* was sleeping on the ground next to the woman. Black Wolf* I thought my mind was playing tricks on me until my son opened his eyes and looked at me. He was alive. It was the white woman who saved him* husband. Her knife was in Gray Cloud's back.
"I didn't know where she'd come from until I remembered the wagons trailing below the ridge. I trusted her* too* from the very beginning* because of the way she held our son. I begged her to take White Eagle away before Gray Cloud's followers returned from their raid. The woman wouldn't leave me* no matter how much I protested. She helped me onto her horse* lifted my son into my arms* then led us into the forest* carrying her own child in her arms. The woman didn't speak again until we stopped to rest many hours later."
"The gods favored us that day* for the renegades didn't chase after us. Jessica* the white woman* thought they might have been killed by the people they attacked. We found a cabin high in the hills and wintered there. Jessica took care of us. She spoke the missionary's English* yet all the words sounded very different to me. When I remarked upon this* Jessica explained that she had come from a distant land called England."
"What happened to this woman?" Black Wolf asked* frowning intently.
"When spring arrived* White Eagle was well enough to travel again. Jessica was going to take Christina back down into the valley* and I was going to bring your son home to you. The day before we planned to leave* Jessica went out to collect the traps she'd set the day before. She didn't return. I went searching for her. She was dead*" Merry whispered. "A mountain bear had caught her unawares. It was a terrible death. Her body was mangled* barely recognizable. She shouldn't have died in such a way* Black Wolf."
"And this is why you have the white child with you?" Black Wolf asked* though he was already nodding over his own conclusions.
"Jessica and I became sisters in our hearts. She told me all about her past* and I shared my own with her. We made a promise to each other. She gave me her word that if anything happened to me* she'd find a way to bring White Eagle back to you. I also gave her a promise."
"You wish to take the child back to the whites?" Black Wolf asked.
"I must raise Christina first*" Merry announced.
Black Wolf looked stunned by his wife's statement. Merry waited a moment before continuing. "Jessica didn't want Christina to go home to this place called England until she was fully grown. We must make Christina strong* husband* so that when she does return to her people* she'll be able to survive."
"I don't understand this promise*" Black Wolf confessed* shaking his head.
"I learned all about Jessica's family. She was running away from her mate. She told me this evil man tried to kill her."
"All white men are evil*" Black Wolf stated.
Merry nodded. She didn't agree with her husband* yet she wanted to placate him. "Every day Jessica would open a book she called her journal and write inside it. I promised to keep this book for Christina and give it to her when she's ready to go home."
"Why did this man try to kill his wife?"
"I don't know*" Merry confessed. "Jessica believed she was a weak woman* though. She spoke of this flaw often* and she begged me to make Christina as strong as a warrior. I told her all about you* but she told me little about her mate. Jessica had the sight* husband. She knew all along she would never see her daughter raised."
"And if I'm against this plan?" Black Wolf asked.
"Then I must leave*" Merry answered. "I know you hate the whites* yet it was a white woman who saved your son. My daughter will prove to be just as courageous in spirit."
"Her daughter*" Black Wolf corrected* his voice harsh.
Merry shook her head. Black Wolf walked past her to stand next to the river. He stared out into the night a long while* and when he finally turned back to Merry* his expression was hard. "We will honor this promise*" he announced.
Before Merry could show her gratitude* Black Wolf raised his hand. "Sunflower has been wife for three summers now and still hasn't given her husband a child. She will take care of this white-skinned baby. If my sister isn't willing* another will be found."
"No* we must raise her*" Merry insisted. "She's my daughter now. And you must also take a hand in this* Black Wolf. I promised to make Christina as strong as a warrior. Without your guidance—"
"I want you back* Merry*" Black Wolf said. "But I won't allow this child into my home. No* you ask too much of me."
"So be it*" Merry whispered. Her shoulders sagged with defeat.
Black Wolf had lived with Merry long enough to recognize that her stubborn determination was now asserting itself. "What difference will it make if she is raised by you or by another?"
"Jessica died believing you and I would raise her daughter. The child must be taught the skills needed to survive in the white man's world. I bragged to Jessica about your strength* husband* and I—"
"Then we'll never send her back*" Black Wolf interjected.
Merry shook her head. "I would never ask you to break your word. How can you ask me to dishonor my pledge now?"
Black Wolf looked furious. Merry started to cry again. "How can you still want me for your wife? I have been used by your enemy. I would have killed myself if I hadn't had White Eagle with me. And now I'm responsible for another child. I can't let anyone else raise her. In your heart* you know I'm right. I think it would be better if I took Christina away. We'll leave tomorrow."
"No." Black Wolf shouted the denial. "I have never stopped loving you* Merry*" he told her. "You will return to me this night."
"And Christina?" Merry asked.
"You'll raise her*" he conceded. "You may even call her daughter* but she belongs only to you. I have only one child. White Eagle. I will allow Christina into my tipi because her mother saved my son's life. But this child will have no meaning in my heart* Merry. I will ignore her completely."
Merry didn't know what to make of her husband's decision. She did return to him that night* however* and carried her daughter with her.
Black Wolf was a stubborn man. He proved to be as good as his word* too. He did set out to ignore Christina thoroughly.

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It was* however* a task that grew more challenging with each passing day.
Christina always fell asleep next to her brother. Yet each morning* when Black Wolf opened his eyes* he found the baby girl snuggled up between him and his wife. She was always awake before he was* and always staring up at him.
The child simply didn't understand he was ignoring her. Black Wolf would frown when he found her watching him so trustingly. Christina would immediately imitate his expression. If she'd been older* he would have thought she dared to mock him. But she was only a baby. And if she hadn't been white-skinned* he knew he'd find amusement in the way she trailed after his son. Why* he might even have been pleased by the baby's arrogant swagger.
Then Black Wolf would remember Christina didn't exist inside his mind. He'd turn his back on the child and leave his tipi* his mood as black as rain clouds.
The days blended into full weeks as the tribe waited for their chief to call Merry before the council. But Gray Eagle watched his son-in-law* waiting to see if he could accept Christina.
When Black Wolf separated his son from Christina* Merry knew something had to be settled. The baby didn't understand what was happening* of course* and spent most of her waking hours crying. She became extremely fretful and finally quit eating altogether.
Desperate* Merry went to her father and put the problem in his lap. She explained that until he* as chief* openly acknowledged Christina* the women and children would continue to follow Black Wolfs lead and ignore the child.
Gray Eagle saw the wisdom in this argument. He promised to call the council that evening. He then went to the shaman to seek his advice.
The holy man seemed to be just as concerned about Christina's welfare as Merry was. The chief was surprised by this attitude* for the shaman was known to be as hostile towards the whites as Black Wolf was.
"Yes* it is time to call the warriors together. Black Wolf must change his heart towards this child. It would be best if he made the decision alone*" he added* "but if he refuses to bend in his attitude* I will tell the council the fullness of my vision."
The shaman shook his head when he saw his leader was about to question him. He walked over to a folded animal skin and handed it to Gray Eagle.
"Do not untie this rope* do not look upon this drawing until the time is right."
"What is this drawing* Wakan?" Gray Eagle asked. His voice had turned to a whisper.
"The vision I was given by the Great Spirit."
"Why have I not seen this before?"
"Because I didn't understand the meaning of all that was revealed to me. I told you only that I'd seen the eagle flying above the herd of buffalo. Do you remember?"
Gray Eagle nodded. "I remember*" he said.
"What I didn't tell you is that some of the buffalo were changed into the faces of those who had gone to the Afterlife. Merry and White Eagle weren't among the dead* Gray Eagle. I didn't understand at the time* and didn't want to counsel you until I could solve the riddle in my mind."
"Now we both understand*" Gray Eagle announced. "They were not dead."
"But there is more to the vision* my friend. At first I thought the sight of the buffalo meant that hunting would be plentiful. Yes* that is what I thought."
"And now* Wakan?"
The holy man shook his head again. "Do not open the skin until Black Wolf has again stated his position. If he refuses to claim the child* the drawing will sway him. We cannot allow him to go against the spirits."
"And if he decides to call the child his? Will the drawing remain a mystery?"
"No* one and all must see the drawing* but not until Black Wolf has chosen the right path. The recounting will then reaffirm his wisdom."
Gray Eagle nodded. "You must sit beside me this evening* my friend*" he announced.
The two men embraced each other. Gray Eagle then returned to his tipi with the animal skin. His curiosity was great* but he forced himself to be patient. There was much to be done before this evening's council. The preparations would take his mind off the skin and what the drawing would reveal.
Merry paced the confines of her tipi until all the warriors had gathered into a circle around their leader's fire. Christina had fallen into a fitful sleep on the pallet she no longer shared with her brother.
When one of the younger braves came to take Merry to the meeting* she left Christina alone* certain the baby was too exhausted to wake before morning.
The men were seated on the ground* with their leader at one end of the long oval. The shaman sat on Gray Eagle's left side* Black Wolf on his right.
Merry slowly walked around the circle* then knelt down in front of her father. She quickly recounted all that had happened to her during the past year* putting great emphasis on the fact that Jessica had saved White Eagle's life.
Gray Eagle showed no outward reaction to this tale. When his daughter finished her recitation* he gave her the formal signal to leave.
Merry was on her way back to Christina when Sunflower intercepted her. The two women stood in the shadows of the clearing* waiting to hear what their leader would decide.
Merry's son was next called to give his version of what had happened. When the boy finished* he went to stand directly behind his father.
All of a sudden* Christina appeared at her brother's side. Merry saw her daughter take hold of White Eagle's hand. She started to go after the child* but Sunflower restrained her. "Wait and see what happens*" Sunflower advised. "The warriors will be angry if you interrupt them now. Your son will look after Christina."
Merry saw the wisdom in her friend's advice. She kept her gaze on her son* hoping he'd look her way so that she could motion for him to take Christina back to their tipi.
White Eagle was listening to the fierce argument being given by the majority of the warriors. They all wished to show their loyalty to Black Wolf by supporting his decision to ignore the child.
The chief nodded* then deliberately suggested that an old woman called Laughing Brook take on the duty of raising the child. Black Wolf immediately shook his head* denying the idea.
"Merry's child would suffer at her hand*" Black Wolf announced to the warriors. "I could not let this happen. The child is innocent."
Gray Eagle hid his smile. Black Wolf was opposed to giving the child to the crazed old squaw* proving he did in fact care.
The problem would be to make Black Wolf realize the full truth—a difficult challenge* the chief realized* for his son-in-law was a proud* stubborn man.
The chief reached for the animal skin* thinking to put an end to the dispute now* but the shaman stayed the action with a shake of his head.
Gray Eagle let the holy man have his way. He rested his hands on the folded skin and continued to mull over the problem while the warriors argued with one another.
And in the end* it was Christina* with her brother's gentle prodding* who solved the problem for everyone.
Black Wolf's son listened to the harsh debate over Christina's future. Though the boy was only six summers* he'd already shown streaks of his father's arrogant nature. Uncaring what the retributions would be* he suddenly pulled Christina along with him as he edged around to face his father.
Christina hid behind her brother now* though she peeked out at the angry-looking man staring at her brother so ferociously.
The chief was the only one who saw the baby mimick Black Wolf's scowl before she pressed her face against White Eagle's knees.
"Father*" White Eagle announced* "a white woman saved my life so that I could return to my people."
The boy's fervent words gained an immediate silence. "Christina is now my sister. I would protect her as well as any brother would protect his sister."
Black Wolf couldn't contain his surprise over the arrogant way his son dared to speak to him. Before he could form a reply* White Eagle turned to where his mother stood. He pointed to her* looked down at Christina* and said* "My mother."
He knew full well what was going to happen. Christina had proved to be quite consistent in her possessiveness. What belonged to White Eagle belonged to her as well. White Eagle only had to repeat the words once before the little girl scooted out to her brother's side. She pulled her thumb out of her mouth long enough to shout* "My mama." Then she smiled up at her brother* waiting for him to continue this new game.
White Eagle nodded. He squeezed her hand to let her know he was pleased with her answer* then turned until he was staring at his father again. He slowly raised his hand and pointed at Black Wolf. "My father*" he announced in a firm voice.
Christina sucked on her thumb while she stared at Black Wolf.
"My papa*" White Eagle stated* giving Christina's hand another squeeze.
Christina suddenly pulled her thumb out of her mouth. "My papa*" she bellowed* pointing her finger at Black Wolf. She then looked up at her brother to gain his approval.
White Eagle glanced over to look at his grandfather. When the leader nodded* Christina's brother nodded to her.
It was all the approval the little girl needed. She let go of White Eagle's hand* turned* and scooted backwards. Without showing the least bit of fear* she fell into Black Wolf's lap.
Everyone watched the baby settle herself. Black Wolf visibly stiffened when Christina reached up and caught hold of one of his braids. He didn't push her hand away* though* but turned to look at his chief.
Gray Eagle was smiling with satisfaction.
Merry rushed over to kneel down in front of her husband* keeping her head bowed. Black Wolf could see how his wife trembled. He let out a long* controlled sigh of acceptance.
"My children have no place at this council. Take them to our tipi."
Merry immediately reached out to take Christina into her arms. She was prying her daughter's hand away from her husband's braid when the full impact of what he'd just said settled in her mind.
His children.
Merry really did try not to smile* but when she glanced up at her husband* she knew he could see her joy. And certainly her love.
Black Wolf acknowledged both with an arrogant nod.
Gray Eagle waited until Merry had taken the children away. "Do I now have a granddaughter?" he asked Black Wolf* demanding confirmation.
"You do*" Black Wolf answered.
"I am pleased*" Gray Eagle announced. He turned to the shaman then and asked him to tell the council about his vision.
The holy man stood and recounted his dream to the warriors. He slowly unwound the rope binding the deerskin and held it up for all to see.
There were many startled murmurs. The shaman silenced the group with a dramatic sweep of his hand. "We are the buffalo*" he said* pressing his hand to his chest. "The lion does not belong with the buffalo. On this earth* they are enemies* just as the white man is enemy of the Dakota. Yet the gods test us now. They've given us a blue-eyed lioness. We must protect her until the time comes for her to leave us."
Black Wolf was clearly astonished by the shaman's words. He shook his head. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner* Wakan?" he asked.
"Because your heart needed to learn the truth first*" the holy man answered. "Your daughter is the lioness* Black Wolf. There can be no mistake. Her hair is the color of white lightning* and her eyes are as blue as the Great Spirit's home in the sky."
Christina's bellow of anger suddenly echoed throughout the village. The shaman paused to smile. "She has the voice of a lioness* too*" he remarked.
Black Wolf smiled with the others and nodded.
The holy man raised the skin into the air. "Merry's promise will be fulfilled. The spirits have decreed it."

[Dalyia]

Christina was formally accepted into the tribe the following evening.
They were a gentle people* the Dakota. Everyone opened their hearts to the blue-eyed lioness and gave her treasures beyond value.
They were intangible gifts that molded her character.
From her grandfather* Christina was given the gift of awareness. The old warrior showed her the beauty* the wonder of her magnificent surroundings. The two became inseparable. Gray Eagle gave Christina his love without restraint* his time without limitation* and his wisdom when she demanded immediate answers to continual little-girl questions of why and why and why. Christina gained patience from her grandfather* but the greatest treasure of all was the ability to laugh at what couldn't be changed* to weep over what had been lost* and to find joy in the precious gift of life.
From her father* Christina was given courage* and determination to finish any task* to conquer any difficulty. She learned to wield a knife and ride a horse as well as any brave—better* in fact* than most. She was Black Wolf's daughter and learned by observation to strive for perfection in every undertaking. Christina lived to please her father* to receive his nod of approval* to make him proud of her.
From her gentle mother* Christina was given the gift of compassion* understanding* and a sense of justice towards friends and enemies alike. She mimicked her mother's ways until they became a true part of her personality. Merry was openly affectionate with her children and her husband. Though Black Wolf never showed his own feelings in front of others* Christina quickly learned that he'd chosen Merry because of her loving nature. His gruffness with his wife in front of the other warriors was all part of his arrogant manner. Yet in the privacy of their tipi* Black Wolf more than allowed Merry's petting and soft words. He demanded them. His gaze would take on a warm expression* and when he thought his daughter was sound asleep* he'd reach for his wife and give her back all the gentle words of love she'd taught him.
Christina vowed to find a man like Black Wolf when the time came for her to choose a mate. He would be a warrior as proud and arrogant as her father* as demanding and protective of what belonged to him* and with the same fierce capacity to love.
She told her brother she'd never settle for less.
White Eagle was her confidant. He didn't wish to break his sister's innocent determination* but he worried for her. He argued in favor of caution* for he knew* as well as everyone else in their isolated village* that Christina would one day return to the world of the whites.
And in his heart* the truth tormented him. He knew* with a certainty he couldn't deny* that there were no warriors like his father in this place called England.
None at all.

[Dalyia]

Chapter One
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London* England* 1810
Lettie's screams were getting weaker.
Baron Winters* the physician in attendance to the Marchioness of Lyonwood* leaned over his patient and frantically tried to grab hold of her hands. The beautiful woman was writhing in agony. She was clearly out of her head now and seemed determined to tear the skin off her distended abdomen.
"There* there* Lettie*" the physician whispered in what he hoped was a soothing tone. "It's going to be all right* my dear. Just a bit longer and you'll have a fine babe to give your husband."
The baron wasn't at all certain Lettie even understood what he was saying to her. Her emerald-green eyes were glazed with pain. She seemed to be staring right through him. "I helped bring your husband into this world. Did you know that* Lettie?"
Another piercing scream interrupted his attempt to calm his patient. Winters closed his eyes and prayed for guidance. His forehead was beaded with perspiration* and his hands were actually shaking. In all his years* he'd never seen such a difficult laboring. It had gone on much too long already. The Marchioness was growing too weak to help.
The door to the bedroom slammed open then* drawing the baron's attention. Alexander Michael Phillips* the Marquess of Lyonwood* filled the doorway. Winters sighed with relief. "Thank God you're home*" he called out. "We were worried you wouldn't return in time."
Lyon rushed over to the bed. His face showed his concern. "For God's sake* Winters* it's too early for this to happen yet."
"The baby has decided otherwise*" Winters replied.
"Can't you see she's in terrible pain?" he shouted. "Do something!"
"I'm doing everything I can*" Winters yelled back before he could control his anger. Another spasm caught Lettie* and her scream turned Winter's attention back to her. The physician's shoulders heaved forward with his effort of restraining her. The Marchioness wasn't a small woman by any means. She was extremely tall and well rounded. She fought the physician's hold on her shoulders with a vengeance.
"She's out of her mind* Lyon. Help me tie her hands to the posts*" Winters ordered.
"No*" Lyon shouted* clearly appalled by such a command. "I'll hold her still. Just be done with it* Winters. She can't take much more. God* how long has she been this way?"
"Over twelve hours now*" Winters confessed. "The midwife sent for me a few hours ago. She ran off in a panic when she realized the baby isn't in the proper position for birthing*" he added in a whisper. "We're going to have to wait it out and pray the baby turns for us."
Lyon nodded as he took hold of his wife's hands. "I'm home now* Lettie. Just a little longer* my love. It will be over soon."
Lettie turned toward the familiar voice. Her eyes were dull* lifeless. Lyon continued to whisper encouragement to his wife. When she closed her eyes and he believed she was asleep* he spoke to Winters again. "Is it because the baby is almost two months early that Lettie is having so much difficulty?"
The physician didn't answer him. He turned his back on the Marquess to lift another cloth from the water basin. His motions were controlled* angry* but his touch was gentle when he finally placed the cool cloth on his patient's brow. "God help us if she gets the fever*" he muttered to himself.
Lettie's eyes suddenly opened. She stared up at Baron Winters. "James? Is that you* James? Help me* please help me. Your baby is tearing me apart. It's God's punishment for our sins* isn't it* James? Kill the bastard if you have to* but rid me of it. Lyon will never know. Please* James* please."
The damning confession ended with a hysterical whimper.
"She doesn't know what she's saying*" Winters blurted once he'd recovered his composure. He wiped the blood away from Lettie's lips before adding* "Your wife is delirious* Lyon. The pain rules her mind. Pay no heed to her rantings."
Baron Winters glanced over to look at the Marquess. When he saw the expression on Lyon's face* he knew his speech hadn't swayed the man. The truth had won out after all.
Winters cleared his throat and said* "Lyon* quit this room. I've work to do here. Go and wait in your study. I'll come for you when it's over."
The Marquess continued to stare at his wife. When he finally lifted his gaze and nodded to the physician* his eyes showed his torment. He shook his head then* a silent denial* perhaps* of what he'd just heard* and abruptly left the room.
His wife's screams for her lover followed him out the door.
It was finished three hours later. Winters found Lyon in the library. "I did everything I could* Lyon. God help me* I lost both of them."
The baron waited several minutes before speaking again. "Did you hear what I said* Lyon?"
"Was the baby two months early?" Lyon asked.
Winters didn't immediately answer. He was slow to recover from the flat* emotionless tone in Lyon's voice. "No* the baby wasn't early*" he finally said. "You've been lied to enough* son. I'll not add to their sins."
The baron collapsed in the nearest chair. He watched Lyon calmly pour him a drink* then reached forward to accept the glass. "You've been like a son to me* Lyon. If there is anything I can do to help you through this tragedy* only tell me and I'll do it."
"You've given me the truth* old friend*" Lyon answered. "That is enough."
Winters watched Lyon lift his goblet and down the contents in one long swallow.
"Take care of yourself* Lyon. I know how much you loved Lettie."
Lyon shook his head. "I'll recover*" he said. "I always do* don't I* Winters?"
"Yes*" Winters answered with a weary sigh. "The lessons of brotherhood have no doubt prepared you for any eventuality."
"There is one task I would give you*" Lyon said. He reached for the inkwell and pen.
Long minutes passed while Lyon wrote on a sheet of paper. "I'll do anything*" Winters said when he couldn't stand the silence any longer.
Lyon finished his note* folded the sheet* and handed it to the physician.
"Take the news to James* Winters. Tell my brother his mistress is dead."

[Dalyia]

Chapter Two
Contents - Prev | Next
Your father was such a handsome man* Christina. He could have chosen any woman in England. Yet he wanted me. Me! I couldn't believe my good fortune. I was only pretty enough to be passable by the ton's measure* terribly shy and naive* the complete opposite of your father. He was so sophisticated* so very polished* kind and loving* too. Everyone thought he was the most wonderful man.
But it was all a terrible lie.
Journal entry August 1* 1795
~
London* England* 1814
It was going to be a long night.
The Marquess of Lyonwood let out a controlled sigh and leaned against the mantel of Lord Carlson's receiving room. It wasn't a casual stance but one employed for necessity's sake. By shifting his considerable weight* Lyon was able to ease the throbbing in his leg. The injury was still a constant irritant* and the sharp pain radiating up through his kneecap did absolutely nothing to lighten his somber mood.
Lyon was attending the party under duress* having been successfully nagged into doing his duty by escorting his younger sister* Diana* to the event. Needless to say* he wasn't at all happy about his circumstances. He thought he should try to affect a pleasant expression on his face* yet couldn't quite manage that feat. Lyon was simply in too much pain to care if others noticed his sour disposition or not. He settled on a scowl instead* his usual expression these days* then folded his arms across his massive chest in a gesture of true resignation.
The Earl of Rhone* Lyon's good friend since Oxford pranks* stood beside him. Both were considered handsome men. Rhone was dark-haired* fair-skinned* and stood six feet in height. He was built on the lean side* always impeccable in dress and taste* and gifted with a lopsided smile that made the young ladies forget all about his crooked nose. They were simply too mesmerized by his enviable green eyes to notice.
Rhone was definitely a lady's man. Mothers fretted over his reputation* fathers worried about his intentions* while unseasoned daughters ignored their parents' cautions altogether* competing quite brazenly for his attention. Rhone drew women to his side in much the same way honey drew a hungry bear. He was a rascal* true* yet too irresistible to deny.
Lyon* on the other hand* had the dubious distinction of being able to send these same sweetly determined ladies screaming for cover. It was an undisputed fact that the Marquess of Lyonwood could clear a room with just one glacial stare.
Lyon was taller than Rhone by a good three inches. Because he was so muscular in chest* shoulders* and thighs* he gave the appearance of being even larger. His size alone wasn't enough to thoroughly intimidate the stronger-hearted ladies hoping to snatch a title* however. Neither were his features* if you could take them just one at a time. Lyon's hair was a dark golden color* given to curl. The length was left unfashionably longer than society liked. His profile mimicked the statues of Roman soldiers lining
Carlton House. His cheekbones were just as patrician* his nose just as classical* and his mouth just as perfectly sculptured.
The warm color of his hair was Lyon's only soft feature* however. His brown eyes mirrored cold cynicism. Disillusionment had molded his expression into a firm scowl. The scar didn't help matters much* either. A thin* jagged line slashed across his forehead* ending abruptly in the arch of his right eyebrow. The mark gave Lyon a piratical expression.
And so the gossip makers called Rhone a rake and Lyon a pirate* but never* of course* to either gentleman's face. These foolish women didn't realize how their insults would have pleased both men.
A servant approached the Marquess and said* "My lord? Here is the brandy you requested." The elderly man made the announcement with a formal bow as he balanced two large goblets on a silver tray.
Lyon grabbed both glasses* handed one to Rhone* and then surprised the servant by offering his gratitude. The servant bowed again before turning and leaving the gentlemen alone.
Lyon emptied his glass in one long swallow.
Rhone caught the action. "Is your leg bothering you?" he asked* frowning with concern. "Or is it your intention to get sotted?"
"I never get sotted*" Lyon remarked. "The leg is healing*" he added with a shrug* giving his friend a roundabout answer.
"You came away lucky this time* Lyon*" Rhone said. "You're going to be out of commission for a good six months* maybe more. Thank God for that*" he added. "Richards would have you back in jeopardy tomorrow if he could have his way. I do believe it was a blessing your ship was destroyed. You can't very well go anywhere until you build another."
"I knew the risks*" Lyon answered. "You don't like Richards* do you* Rhone?"
"He never should have sent you on that last little errand* my friend."
"Richards places government business above personal concerns."
"Above our personal concerns* you mean to say*" Rhone corrected. "You really should have gotten out when I did. If you weren't so vital to—"
"I've quit* Rhone."
His friend couldn't contain his astonishment. Lyon knew he should have waited to give him the news* for there was a real concern Rhone would let out a shout. "Don't look so stunned* Rhone. You've been after me to retire for a good while now."
Rhone shook his head. "I've been after you because I'm your friend and very likely the only one who cares what happens to you*" he said. "Your special talents have kept you doing your duty longer than a normal man could stand. God's truth* I wouldn't have had the stomach for it. Do you really mean it? You've actually retired? Have you told Richards?"
Rhone was speaking in a furious whisper. He watched Lyon intently.
"Yes* Richards knows. He isn't too pleased."
"He'll have to get used to it*" Rhone muttered. He raised his glass in salutation. "A toast* my friend* to a long life. May you find happiness and peace. You deserve a bit of both* Lyon."
Since Lyon's glass was empty* he didn't share in the toast. He doubted Rhone's fervent wish would come true anyway. Happiness—in sporadic doses* of course—was a true possibility. But peace… no* the past would never allow Lyon to find peace. Why* it was as impossible a goal as love. Lyon accepted his lot in life. He had done what he believed was necessary* and part of his mind harbored no guilt. It was only in the dark hours of the night* when he was alone and vulnerable* that the faces from the past came back to haunt him. No* he'd never find peace. The nightmares wouldn't let him.
"You're doing it again*" Rhone announced* nudging Lyon's arm to gain his attention.
"Doing what?"
"Frowning all the ladies out of the room."
"It's good to know I've still got the ability*" Lyon drawled.
Rhone shook his head. "Well* are you going to frown all night?"
"Probably."
"Your lack of enthusiasm is appalling. I'm in a wonderful mood. The new season always stirs my blood. Your sister must also be eager for all the adventures*" he added. "Lord* it's difficult to believe the little brat has finally grown up."
"Diana is excited*" Lyon admitted. "She's old enough to start looking for a husband."
"Is she still… spontaneous? It's been over a year now since I last saw her."
Lyon smiled over Rhone's inept description of his sister's conduct. "If you mean to ask me if she still charges into situations without showing the least amount of restraint* then yes* she's still spontaneous."
Rhone nodded. He looked around the room* then let out a sigh. "Just think of it. A fresh crop of beautiful ladies waiting to be sampled. In truth* I thought their mamas would have made them stay home* what with Jack and his band of robbers still on the prowl."
"I heard the thieves visited Wellingham last week*" Lyon commented.
"Caused quite a stir*" Rhone interjected with a true grin. "Lady Wellingham took to her bed after making the vow she wasn't going to get up until her emeralds were recovered. An odd reaction* to my way of thinking* when you consider how much thieving her husband does at the gambling tables. The man's a flagrant cheat."
"I understand Jack only robbed the Wellinghams. Is it true he left the guests alone?"
Rhone nodded. "Yes. The man obviously was in a hurry."
"Seems to me he's aching to get caught*" Lyon said.
"I don't agree*" Rhone answered. "Thus far* he's only stolen from those who I think needed a good set down. I actually admire the man."
When Lyon gave him a puzzling look* Rhone hastened to change the topic. "The ladies would approach us if you'd smile. Then you might begin to enjoy yourself."
"I think you've finally lost your mind. How can you pretend to enjoy this farce?"
"There are those who think you've lost your mind* Lyon. It's a fact you've been secluded from the ton too long."
"And it's a fact you've endured one too many seasons*" Lyon answered. "Your mind has turned to mush."
"Nonsense. My mind turned to mush years ago when we drank sour gin in school together. I really do enjoy myself* though. You would* too* if you'd only remember this is all just a game."
"I don't play games*" Lyon said. "And war is a better description for this scene."
Rhone laughed* loud enough to draw curious stares. "Tell me this* friend. Are we pitted against the ladies* then?"
"We are."
"And what is their quest? What do they hope to gain if they conquer us?"
"Marriage* of course."
"Ah*" Rhone replied* dragging out the sound. "I suppose they use their bodies as their weapons. Is it their battle plan to make us so glazed with lust we'll offer anything?"
"It's all they have to offer*" Lyon answered.
"Good Lord* you are as jaded as everyone says. I worry that your attitude will rub off on me."
Rhone shuddered as he spoke* but the effect was ruined by his grin.
"You don't appear to be too concerned*" Lyon remarked dryly.
"These ladies are only after marriage* not our lives*" Rhone said. "You don't have to play the game if you don't want to. Besides* I'm only an insignificant earl. You* on the other hand* must certainly marry again if the line is to continue forward."
"You know damn well I'm never going to marry again."
Lyon answered. His voice had turned as hard as the marble he was leaning against. "Drop this subject* Rhone. I've no sense of humor when it comes to the issue of marriage."
"You've no sense of humor at all*" Rhone pronounced in such a cheerful tone of voice Lyon couldn't help but grin.

[Dalyia]

Rhone was about to continue his list of Lyon's other faults when a rather attractive redheaded lady happened to catch his concentration. He gave her his full attention until he spotted Lyon's little sister making her way over to them.
"Better get rid of your frown*" Rhone advised. "Diana's coming over. Lord* she just elbowed the Countess Seringham."
Lyon sighed* then forced a smile.
When Diana came to an abrupt stop in front of her brother* her short-cropped brown curls continued to float around her cherublike face. Her brown eyes sparkled with excitement. "Oh* Lyon* I'm so happy to see you smiling. Why* I do believe you're enjoying yourself."
She didn't wait for her brother to reply to her observation but turned to curtsy in front of Rhone. "It's so good to see you again*" she said* sounding quite breathless.
Rhone inclined his head in greeting.
"Isn't it remarkable I was able to plead Lyon into coming this evening? He really doesn't like parties very much* Rhone."
"He doesn't?" Rhone asked* sounding so disbelieving Lyon actually laughed.
"Don't jest with her*" Lyon said. "Are you enjoying yourself* Diana?" he asked his sister.
"Oh* yes*" Diana answered. "Mama will be pleased. I do hope she's still awake when we get home so I can tell her all about tonight. I've just learned Princess Christina will be making an appearance* too. I confess I'm most curious to meet her. Why* I've heard the most wonderful stories about her."
"Who is Princess Christina?" Lyon asked.
It was Rhone who hastened to answer his question. "You've been secluded too long* Lyon* or you surely would have heard of her. Though I haven't actually met the lady* I've been told she's very beautiful. There's an air of mystery surrounding her* too. Her father was ruler of some little principality near Austria's border. He was unseated during a rather nasty revolution*" Rhone continued. "Lady Christina* if we use the title she gained from her mother* has traveled all over the world. Brummel met her and was immediately infatuated. He was the first to call her Princess. The woman neither accepted nor rejected that title."
"What happened to her mother?" Diana asked.
She looked quite spellbound by the story about the princess. Rhone smiled at her eagerness. "A tragedy* I'm told. The mother was weakheaded* and she—"
"What do you mean by weakheaded?" Diana interrupted to ask.
"Insane*" Rhone explained. "When the mother learned she was going to have a child* she ran off. Until three months ago* everyone believed both mother and babe were dead."
"What happened to Princess Christina's father?" Diana asked.
"He left England shortly after his wife disappeared. No one has heard of him since. Probably dead by now*" Rhone ended with a shrug.
"Oh* the poor Princess*" Diana whispered. "Does she have anyone to call family now* or is she all alone?"
"For God's sake* Diana* you don't even know the woman and you look ready to weep for her*" Lyon said.
"Well* it is such a sad story*" Diana said* defending herself. She turned back to Rhone and added* "I remember how unbearable it was for all of us when James died. Mother still hasn't recovered. She stays hidden in her room pretending all sorts of ills* when it's truly grief that keeps her there."
Rhone took one look at Lyon's cold expression and immediately hastened to turn the topic around. "Yes* well* we all miss James*" he lied* his tone brisk. "I'm anxious to meet Princess Christina* too* Diana. No one has been able to glean a scrap of information about her past. That does make for a mystery to be solved* now doesn't it?"
When Rhone gave Diana a wink* she blushed. Lyon's sister was still such an innocent. She was fetching enough* too* now that Rhone paused to really take a good look at her. Diana had filled out nicely since he'd last seen her. That realization actually irritated Rhone* though for the life of him he couldn't understand why. "Brat*" he suddenly blurted out* "you do look pretty tonight." Rhone grimaced over the roughness he'd heard in his own voice.
Diana didn't seem to notice. She smiled over his compliment* affected another curtsy* and said* "Thank you* Rhone. It is kind of you to notice."
Rhone frowned at Lyon. "Her gown is cut entirely too low. What could you have been thinking of to allow her in public this way? You'd better keep a close eye on her."
"If I keep my eye on you* Diana will be safe enough*" Lyon answered.
"All the same* I really think…" The sentence trailed off* for Rhone had just glanced toward the entrance of the salon. He let out a low whistle. Diana quickly turned around to see what held Rhone so enthralled.
"Princess Christina." Diana whispered the obvious* her voice filled with awe.
Lyon was the last to react. When he saw the vision standing across the room* he literally jerked away from the mantel. His body instinctively assumed a battle stance* his muscles tensed* ready.
He was slow to regain control. He realized his hands were actually fisted at his sides and his legs were braced apart for a fight* and he forced himself to relax. The abrupt movement made his knee start throbbing again. Lyon couldn't do anything about the pain now* or the furious pounding in his chest.
And no matter how valiantly he tried* he couldn't seem to take his gaze away from the Princess.
She really was lovely. She was dressed in silver from head to toe. The color belonged to an angel and highlighted the paler threads of her blond hair.
Without a doubt* she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her skin appeared to be flawless* and even from the distance separating them Lyon could see the color of her eyes. They were the most startling shade of blue.
Princess Christina neither smiled nor frowned. Her expression showed only mild curiosity. The woman obviously understood her own appeal* Lyon concluded* hoping his cynical nature would save him from heart failure. He wasn't at all pleased about the way his body continued to respond to her.
"Brummel was right*" Rhone announced. "The lady is enchanting."
"Oh* I do hope I'll be able to meet her*" Diana said. She whispered as though they were in church. "Just look at everyone* Rhone. They are all taken with her. Do you think the Princess will be agreeable to an introduction?"
"Hush* Diana*" Rhone said. "Princess Christina wouldn't dare ignore you. You seem to forget just who your brother is."
Diana gave Rhone a timid nod. "Sweetling* straighten your shoulders and quit wringing your hands. You'll give yourself spots. We'll find someone to give us a proper introduction."
Rhone knew Lyon's little sister hadn't heard the last of his remarks. She'd already picked up her skirts and headed for the entrance. "Now what do we do?" he asked when Lyon grabbed hold of his arm to stop him from chasing after Diana.
"We wait and see*" Lyon advised. His voice sounded with irritation.
"Your sister is too impetuous*" Rhone muttered* shaking his head. "She's ignoring all her lessons in—"
"It's high time Diana learned the lesson of discretion."
"Let us hope it isn't too painful for her."
Lyon didn't remark on that hope. He continued to give his attention to the beautiful Princess. An elderly couple approached the woman just as Diana came barreling to a halt a bare inch or so in front of them.
Diana almost knocked Christina to her knees. Rhone let out a long groan. The elderly couple didn't even try to hide their displeasure when they were so rudely cut off. Both turned away* staring at each other in obvious embarrassment.
"Oh* God* Diana just cut in front of the Duke and Duchess*" Rhone said.
Lyon was infuriated with his sister. He was about to go after her to save her from further humiliation when the Princess took matters into her own hands. Rather nicely* too. She greeted Lyon's sister with what appeared to be a sincere smile* then took hold of Diana's hands when she spoke to her. Lyon thought the Princess was deliberately giving the impression to all those watching that she and Diana were close friends.
He watched the way Christina motioned Diana over to her side so that both could greet the Duke and Duchess of Devenwood. The Princess included Diana in the brief conversation* too* effectively smoothing over the mistake his sister had made.
Rhone sighed with relief. "Well* what do you know? She's still holding Diana's hand* too. A clever ploy to keep Diana from accidentally belting her one* I would imagine."
Lyon rested his shoulder against the mantel again* smiling over Rhone's observation. "Diana does like to use her hands when she speaks*" he admitted.
"The Princess has a good heart. God's truth* I believe I'm in love."
"You're always in love*" Lyon answered.
He wasn't able to keep the irritation out of his voice. Odd* but for some reason Rhone's jest bothered him. He didn't particularly want Princess Christina added to Rhone's list of future conquests. It was a ridiculous notion* Lyon realized. Why did he care if his friend chased after the woman or not?
He sighed when he realized he didn't have a ready answer. He did care* however. Fiercely so. And that honest admission soured Lyon's mood all the more. Damn* he was too old and too tired for an infatuation.
Christina didn't have any idea of the stir she was causing. She patiently waited in the center of the doorway for her Aunt Patricia to finish her conversation with their host. An eager young lady stood beside her* chattering away at such an incredible pace Christina couldn't quite keep up with her. She pretended interest* smiled when it seemed appropriate* and nodded whenever the lady named Diana paused for breath.
Lady Diana announced she was going to fetch her friends for an introduction. Christina was left alone again. She turned to look at all the people openly gawking at her* a serene smile on her face.
She didn't think she was ever going to get used to them. The English were such a peculiar lot. Though she'd been living in London for almost three months now* she was still perplexed by the odd rituals these whites seemed so determined to endure.
The men were just as foolish as their women. They all looked alike* too* dressed as they were in identical black garb. Their white neck wraps were starched to the point of giving the impression they were being strangled to death* an impression strengthened by their red* ruddy cheeks. No* Christina silently amended* they weren't called neck wraps… cravats* she told herself. Yes* that was the proper name for a neck wrap. She mustn't forget again.
There was so much to remember. Christina had studied diligently since arriving on her Aunt Patricia's doorstep in Boston a year ago. She already spoke French and English. The missionary Black Wolf had captured years before had taught her very well.
Her lessons in Boston centered on the behavior expected of a gentle lady. Christina tried to please her aunt* and to ease some of her fears* too. The sour woman was Christina's only link with her mother's family. Later* however* when Christina had conquered the written word well enough to understand the meaning in her mother's diary* her motives had changed. Dramatically. It was now imperative Christina win a temporary place in this bizarre society. She couldn't make any mistakes until her promise was carried out.