Sioux Slave

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Sioux Slave Page 32

by Georgina Gentry


  It occurred to her that he would expect that Kimi would get a sizable inheritance, so it wouldn’t be such a great sacrifice for him. Like his father, he would live off his wife’s money. “Breaking the engagement will be embarrassing; everyone’s expecting the announcement.”

  “Would you believe I don’t give a damn?” He looked out of sorts.

  She shook her head. “Think about it a long time, Rand. Even with the Carstairs money and background, some of your friends and relatives will never accept me. Life could be very miserable for both of us.”

  “You can learn to be everything Lenore is; you’re smarter and prettier. You can show them all.”

  Now it was her time to sigh pensively. “Would you believe I don’t give a damn about showing them all? I think we’ve maybe got a chasm here we can’t cross, Rand. Maybe you belong with Lenore after all.”

  “Are you saying you don’t love me?” He put his hands on her shoulders, pulled her to him.

  “I don’t know what I’m saying.” She looked up at him and he seemed almost a stranger to her, this impeccably groomed and well-dressed white man. Did he love her as she was or did he want Laurel Carstairs? Could she ever be that girl? Did she want to be?

  And then he kissed her and she clung to him, remembering all the nights she had spent in his arms, their passionate lovemaking.

  “Kimi,” he whispered, “oh, Kimi, you can be Laurel Carstairs if only you’ll put your mind to it! We can have a good life together. You’ll learn to read and to waltz and all the other things ladies do.”

  Ladies. White ladies with their corsets and silly hoop skirts, their mincing, prissy gaits and sidesaddles. She pulled away from him, troubled. “Don’t do anything yet until we’ve both had a chance to think some more.”

  “What’s there to think about?” His expression was intense, aroused.

  “Such things can’t be decided on the spur of the moment. I’m not sure whether this girl you think you love is a Sioux named Kimimila or a wealthy belle named Laurel Carstairs.”

  “Don’t talk in riddles; they’re one in the same.”

  She shook her head sadly. “No, Rand, I’m not sure they are. I have a lot of thinking of my own to do.” She stood up. He stood up, too, and for a long moment, she thought he would take her in his arms. She stepped away from him to discourage that. If he embraced her, that would sway her judgement and lose her control in an eddy of passion. To take her sister’s fiancée would create terrible problems for Kimi, and she wasn’t sure his family would ever forgive her. She wasn’t sure what her grandmother and the judge would say and their opinions mattered very much to her.

  “You need to go; we both have thinking to do,” she said again.

  “All right, I’ll go. Let me know when you’re ready to talk.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it, then turned and left.

  Kimi went back to her room, torn with indecision. Should she listen to her heart or her brain? At least she didn’t have to decide anything definite today. She needed to get dressed to go to the dressmaker’s. Judge Hamilton had offered to drive her and her grandmother there.

  Shelby watched the buggy driving away from the house from where he sat his horse in the shade of a tree. The old lady, the judge, and that pretty girl who’d been raised by the Injuns. Word had spread fast that she was the missing Carstairs heiress. God, he’d like a chance to get her clothes off!

  Shelby waited until the buggy had disappeared from sight, then rode around to the conservatory. He knew Lenore’s room was right over that. He whistled and tossed pebbles against the window until she stuck her head out and motioned for him to join her in the conservatory.

  He tilted his hat at a jaunty angle, went in, and flopped down on the wicker settee. Lenore was a nice enough kid, so was Vanessa Erikson. If he could figure out a way to do it, Shelby would like to end up with the money from both estates and sleep with all three of the girls.

  Sweet Jesus, he had really struck a gold mine! Here he had come snooping around this area looking for clues to his missing brother-in-law, and had fallen into all this money and eager women.

  Rand was a fly in the ointment. When Shelby had said he’d investigate Rand’s whereabouts during the months Rand was missing, he’d lied. Shelby knew Jon Erikson had the money to rescue his son if he found him, and Shelby hoped that Rand was either already dead or rotting away in some military prison. Matter of fact, Shelby had managed to intercept what little mail got through. It would have been so much easier if Vanessa’s brother were dead. He rode around to the conservatory and went in.

  Lenore hurried through the French doors. “Oh, Shelby, you shouldn’t have come. I don’t know how long they’ll be gone to the dressmaker’s.”

  “For you, honey, any risk is worth it!” He knew what women wanted to hear. He caught her hand and pulled her down beside him and nuzzled her neck. “So tell me what the latest gossip is about the Injun being your long-lost sister?”

  Lenore frowned. “For pity’s sake, I swear servant gossip travels faster than the telegraph. Grandmother believes her. I think the girl’s a fake.”

  “If Grandma believes her, that’s what counts. She’s the one with the money.” He thought about the irony of it all. All he’d been trying to do was track down his brother-in-law who had run out on his sister so long ago. Not that he gave a damn about his now dead sister, he just remembered something Clint had laughed about....

  “It was all so mysterious that night my mother and Father went away,” Lenore mused.

  “Oh?” What did this chit know that might give him a clue?

  “I was only five years old,” Lenore said, “but I think my mother was seeing another man when my father was away on business.”

  Shelby laughed and ran his hand through his greasy hair. “When the cat’s away . . .”

  “For pity’s sake, don’t be crude,” Lenore snapped and played with her fan.

  “Tell me about that night,” he urged.

  “I remember angry words that woke me up,” Lenore said, looking at the camelia bush. “It was warm outside and my window was open. Something was happening on the lawn below my room. That was before the conservatory was built.”

  He tried not to look too interested. “Did you ever see this other man?”

  She shook her head. “Only from a distance. I wouldn’t recognize him; handsome, black hair.”

  And big feet, Shelby remembered. He had suspected Rose Erikson might be the woman. Couldn’t tell it now, but he’d heard she had been a beauty a long time ago. “Did you recognize the voices?” Again she shook her head, “I don’t even know what happened after that. There was thunder and I was scared so I hid under my pillow.”

  “Thunder?”

  “Well, maybe it wasn’t,” she admitted, twisting her lace fan. “It wasn’t that loud. When I got up the next morning, Mother and Daddy and my little sister had gone away. They were going to send for me later because I was just beginning school.”

  Thunder, Shelby thought. His brother-in-law was a riverboat gambler. Clint carried a two shot derringer belly gun with ivory inlays.

  “Now this chit comes back and claims to be my missing sister, Laurel, and Grandmother accepted her wild story.”

  “Just what did Kimi say? Could she remember much?”

  “No. You know what I think?” She leaned closer. “I think there was a killing that night and Grandmother helped keep the secret.”

  His brother-in-law wouldn’t have any qualms about shooting down an irate husband. What Shelby didn’t know was whether Clint would care enough about the lady to take her and run away. “Would your Grandmother be a party to something like that? She strikes me as a sweet and very proper lady.”

  “For pity’s sake don’t let that fool you,” Lenore said smugly. “Elizabeth Carstairs has a backbone of steel; she’s not some weak old lady. I think she would do anything, I mean, anything to protect the Carstairs reputation and name. She’s never been what I would call a loving
grandmother, and now I’m beginning to think I never really knew her at all.”

  Just as you don’t know me. War hero. If only this pretty miss knew how he came by his limp. The medals that so enthralled Lenore, Shelby had taken off a dead man’s chest near a battle that Shelby was running from.

  “For pity’s sake, Shelby, are you listening to me?”

  “What? Oh, sure, honey.” He fingered the diamond stickpin in his tie.

  “After all, this concerns you, too, because of the money.”

  “Money?” Shelby said. If only you knew how I came by mine.

  Lenore nodded. “I overheard Grandmother and the judge talking last night about her will. From what I understand, this Kimi is a bastard by Mother’s lover, but Grandmother feels she must include her in the will or people will talk, and she doesn’t want them to guess that.”

  A kid. Yes, Clint had said the lady had a child by him that her husband thought was his, mentioned the county. A wealthy, beautiful woman with two kids, one of them Clint’s. And the lady’s name was a flower. That had narrowed it down to two women. All these months, Shelby had thought it might be Rose Erikson.

  “I think the Eriksons are going to announce both engagements at the ball,” Lenore said, “you and Vanessa and me and Rand.”

  “So the new younger sister doesn’t change anything?”

  “Not as far as I’m concerned. We can still keep meeting, Shelby. Something’s bound to work out.” She went into his arms, and he kissed her hard and ran his hand down the front of her bodice.

  Somewhere were the final pieces of the puzzle. Who around here knew more than they were telling? Had Clint really cared so much for the lady that he had killed her husband and run away with her? And if so, would the old lady really help hide her own son’s death to protect her family’s name and reputation? Now that he had met Elizabeth Carstairs, he wouldn’t put anything past her. She might be elderly and frail, but there was steel to that lady. Anyone who underestimated her was a fool.

  “Wait a minute,” he thought aloud, “a couple of little sounds that might or might have been thunder–or gunshots. Pretty slim.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, my sweet, you couldn’t convince anyone, not even me, that that adds up to a murder, not without a body.” He fiddled with his diamond stickpin, thinking. “In fact, the more I think about it, the sillier it sounds. Anyway, what the hell does it matter? What matters now is who controls the money, and I’m afraid, my sweet, that’s Grandma. If she wants to cut that girl into the will, whether this Kimi is really a Carstairs or not, and that’s all that counts.”

  “But if Grandmother thought I knew something, I could blackmail her.”

  Shelby threw back his head and laughed. “Sweet Jesus! I’ll bet your aristocratic fiancée would be shocked out of his mind if he knew the real you.”

  “Don’t laugh, Shelby, I won’t have that bit of poor white trash who is no relation to the Carstairs, getting her hands in the Carstairs money.”

  He started to tell her right then—it was such an ironic joke–but he decided against it. “When you find some real evidence, honey, then you can go head to head with Grandma; otherwise, watch out.”

  “Oh, you never take me seriously, Shelby.”

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re pretty when you pout?”

  “Am I?”

  “You know you are.” He knew what women liked to hear. Clint had taught him that. Shelby had come looking for Clint, hoping maybe he’d ended up with that rich lady he’d been sleeping with, hoping to find Clint living in the lap of luxury, hoping he’d cut Shelby in.

  “Prettier than Vanessa or that Kimi?”

  “Of course. Neither of them can hold a candle to you, sweet.” Kimi. He’d sure like to get her clothes off. He’d had both the other girls and found them stupid and banal. Kimi was pretty, and seemed smart, too.

  “Make love to me, Shelby.” She slipped her tongue between his lips and rubbed her breasts up against him.

  He ran his hand up under her dress.

  “It’s exciting to take chances.” Lenore smiled. “I can see why my mother did it.”

  Shelby pulled her off the wicker settee into the soft dirt under the camelia bush and unbuttoned her bodice. “Just a quick one, honey.”

  She dug her nails into his shoulders, pulling him down on her. “A quick one is all I need–for now.”

  She was a bitch to satisfy, he thought, as Lenore brushed the dirt off her dress and, with her mincing walk, accompanied him out the side door. He grinned as he limped to his horses and swung up.

  “For pity’s sake, Shelby, what’s so funny?”

  If you only knew. No, not funny–ironic. “Nothing. The engagements still going to be announced at the Erikson’s ball?”

  “Vanessa and I’ve planned it that way, although I’ve hardly seen anything of Rand. Instead of the eager lover, he acts as if he’s avoiding me.”

  If I could get between that Kimi’s thighs, I wouldn’t want you either, Shelby thought. But of course, he only smiled, said his good-byes, and rode away.

  Lenore stood there a long moment, watching Shelby ride away, the sunlight reflecting off his slicked down hair. Just when she thought she had everything planned, that Kimi had showed up and threatened to ruin everything. What was she going to do about it?

  Lenore turned and went back into the conservatory. The puppy had wandered in through the door she’d left ajar and was digging under the camelia bush. “Stop it, you damned mutt!” She kicked at him. “Grandmother will be mad if you dig up her flowers and wonder how you got in here.”

  Tally Ho paid no attention to her and kept on digging.

  “For pity’s sake!” Lenore grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him away. He had dug quite a hole already. Lenore dragged him over to the outside door, pushed him out, and shut the door. She surveyed the damage. If that bush died, there was going to be big trouble with her Grandmother.

  Maybe if she filled it carefully, Grandmother would never know about it. She dropped to her knees and began to push the dirt back into the shallow hole with her hands. This was nigger work, she thought. She ought to call a servant to do it, but she didn’t trust any of them not to tattle to Grandmother; especially that Nero. He had never liked her. Still it galled her. She was a Carstairs and the Carstairs were bluebloods. Lenore was above doing this kind of dirty work.

  Sunlight reflected off something in the hole. A button? A coin? No, it was bigger than that. Had Shelby dropped something? Puzzled, she picked the object up, stared at it. Rusty. It had been buried in the dirt a long, long time. Lenore held it up to the light. There was no mistake. It was an ivory-handled derringer.

  Twenty-one

  Lenore hid the little weapon in her bureau, knowing the three would be home soon from the dressmaker’s. Now just why would a derringer be buried in her grandmother’s conservatory? Still puzzled, Lenore spent the rest of the day deciding what to do about it. Should she tell Shelby? No, he’d only laugh and tell her some soldier had dropped it during the war. But did soldiers carry derringers?

  Two days had passed since the night Elizabeth had found her long-lost granddaughter. These had been both the happiest and the most bittersweet days of the last sixteen years. She had had to face the truth about the wagon train. However, the fact that she had finally found her granddaughter made up for it.

  There was something strange going on that Elizabeth couldn’t quite figure out. Lenore suddenly looked like a cat who had caught a mouse, smiling secretly to herself. Who knew what the little sneak was up to?

  On the other hand, Laurel looked miserable, and young Rand was staying away from the house. When he did come to call on Lenore, he looked ill at ease, as if he were holding back something that he dare not say.

  Elizabeth decided to stay out of it, not knowing what she could or should do. She had realized that Rand was in love with Laurel, but Laurel seemed loath to break up her sister’s engagement. Well,
half-sister ...

  Elizabeth stopped playing the piano and listened. In the dusk darkness, she heard the judge’s buggy pull up out front and Nero greeting him. She rose from her piano bench as her old friend entered. “Pierce, so nice of you to escort the girls to the ball tonight! I don’t think they’re quite ready. You know how women are.”

  “Not really,” he reminded her, “I’ve lived all my life without one because the widow I wanted wouldn’t say yes.”

  She felt the pain in her chest again, but forced herself to keep smiling. “You’re as sweet as ever, Pierce.”

  He took both her hands in his. “Great Caesar’s ghost, Elizabeth, you are as beautiful as ever! Why don’t you change your mind and go with us? Afraid you’ll outshine all the silly young things?”

  She laughed gently as they went to sit in front of the fire. “You really should go into politics. You’re more honest and smarter than most of them, and you’re charming besides. When they finally give women the vote, they would all vote for you.”

  “Are you all right, my dear?” He peered at her anxiously. “You haven’t looked well lately.”

  “Don’t be such an old fussbudget.” She dismissed him with a frail hand. “But if you’re pouring yourself a drink, I’ll take a little sherry. I’m just a bit under the weather tonight, that’s all.”

  He went over, closed the door, then got them each a drink.

  “You’ve learned something?” she guessed, and took the glass, sipped it, waiting for the bracing effect.

  He fingered his mustache, sighed heavily. “Yes. Just as we suspected, Shelby Merson has a fake name and he’s not a wealthy merchant from Baltimore.”

  “I thought not; the accent isn’t right. Who is he?”

  “Clint Nutter’s brother-in-law.”

  “Oh Lord!” In her dismay, the sherry sloshed over her shaking hand. “After all these years . . .”

  “Are you all right, Elizabeth?” He handed her his handkerchief to wipe her hands.

 

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