Read Online Dakota Dreams (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon - Free Book Online
Authors: Constance O'Banyon
Tags: Fiction, adventure, Romance, Historical, Adult, Action, England, Western, Native Americans, 19th century, multicultural, warrior, buffalo, Gambling, Marriage of Convenience, Brother, Indian, heritage, fiancé, stranger, American West, promise, Paleface, DAKOTA DREAMS, Debts, Reckless Ride, Bethrothed, Philanderer, Arapaho Indian
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in exchange for me?"
Sophie shook her head. "No, no, you must not think like that. Try to understand why your brother agreed to this marriage. He is truly interested in your future. He is aware that we have ill used you. You have been little more than a servant in this house. You have found joy in loving our children, but I want you to have children of your own."
"Children by an... Indian?"
A sob expanded Sophie's chest. "Breanna, please—"
"What did the Marquess offer Fielding?" Breanna asked again, this time more pointedly.
Seeing there was nothing to be gained by withholding the truth from Breanna, Sophie spread her hands in a hopeless gesture. "He offered to pay off all Fielding's debts and to transfer fifty thousand pounds to him on the day you are married to his grandson."
Breanna took a deep breath. She was hurt—she was angry, but most of all, she was frightened. "I will honor my brother's bargain, but only because the money may make life easier for you and the children. If you are wise, you will insist that Fielding allow you to handle the finances, lest the money find its way onto a gambling table."
Sophie loyally defended her husband. "Fielding has changed. He has not gambled in over three months. I have never known you to be cruel about your brother's shortcomings, Breanna. This attitude does not become you."
"You will have to forgive me, but you see, my brother just sold me as if I were nothing but a chattel, and I am not feeling very charitable toward him at the moment."
"I hope in time you will find that your brother has done well by you. You have been wasting your life here, Breanna—this is no way for you to live. You are lovely and sweet, but as the years passed, they would have taken their toll on you. They would have taken your looks and your sweetness."
Breanna walked to the window and stared out at the garden that was choked with weeds. "Can you tell me anything more about the man who is to be my . . . husband?"
"No, I'm sorry, but you see, the solicitor knew little to tell us. He did tell Fielding that the Marquess was not overly concerned that his grandson had been raised by Indians."
"No, of course not, why should he be? An heir is an heir by birth, no matter what his character is or how he was fostered."
"Breanna," Sophie spoke hurriedly. "The solicitor intimated to Fielding that if you were to have a son from this union, the old Marquess would lay the world at your feet." Sophie caught Breanna's hand. "Perhaps it won't be so bad. The act of marriage is one that must be endured by all women no matter who they marry. But children are such a blessing, they make it all worthwhile."
Breanna knew that Sophie was trying to comfort her, but she had succeeded only in making her more apprehensive. She trembled when she tried to imagine what the man she was to marry would look like. The vision that came to mind was a ghastly painted face and a half-naked body. "Dear God, how can my own brother treat me with such small regard? How can he banish me from everything I hold dear and cast me into a life of . . . of . . ." Words failed Breanna. She could not imagine what kind of life she would be leading once she left Kenton.
"Try to think about the wonderful adventure that awaits you, Breanna. First, of course, you will travel to London, where you will meet the Marquess and be fitted for your trousseau. Then you will be going to Weatherford Hall in Cornwall. It is one of the largest and most impressive estates in Great Britain. I am told that the house is extraordinary, as are the farms and villages that surround it."
Breanna remembered the time last winter when she had come upon a rabbit that had been caught in a trap. The snow surrounding the trap had been bloody because the poor creature was tugging and pulling, trying to extricate itself from the trap. Breanna had quickly released the poor animal, but shortly thereafter it had died. She now knew how that rabbit must have felt, because she was
Sophie shook her head. "No, no, you must not think like that. Try to understand why your brother agreed to this marriage. He is truly interested in your future. He is aware that we have ill used you. You have been little more than a servant in this house. You have found joy in loving our children, but I want you to have children of your own."
"Children by an... Indian?"
A sob expanded Sophie's chest. "Breanna, please—"
"What did the Marquess offer Fielding?" Breanna asked again, this time more pointedly.
Seeing there was nothing to be gained by withholding the truth from Breanna, Sophie spread her hands in a hopeless gesture. "He offered to pay off all Fielding's debts and to transfer fifty thousand pounds to him on the day you are married to his grandson."
Breanna took a deep breath. She was hurt—she was angry, but most of all, she was frightened. "I will honor my brother's bargain, but only because the money may make life easier for you and the children. If you are wise, you will insist that Fielding allow you to handle the finances, lest the money find its way onto a gambling table."
Sophie loyally defended her husband. "Fielding has changed. He has not gambled in over three months. I have never known you to be cruel about your brother's shortcomings, Breanna. This attitude does not become you."
"You will have to forgive me, but you see, my brother just sold me as if I were nothing but a chattel, and I am not feeling very charitable toward him at the moment."
"I hope in time you will find that your brother has done well by you. You have been wasting your life here, Breanna—this is no way for you to live. You are lovely and sweet, but as the years passed, they would have taken their toll on you. They would have taken your looks and your sweetness."
Breanna walked to the window and stared out at the garden that was choked with weeds. "Can you tell me anything more about the man who is to be my . . . husband?"
"No, I'm sorry, but you see, the solicitor knew little to tell us. He did tell Fielding that the Marquess was not overly concerned that his grandson had been raised by Indians."
"No, of course not, why should he be? An heir is an heir by birth, no matter what his character is or how he was fostered."
"Breanna," Sophie spoke hurriedly. "The solicitor intimated to Fielding that if you were to have a son from this union, the old Marquess would lay the world at your feet." Sophie caught Breanna's hand. "Perhaps it won't be so bad. The act of marriage is one that must be endured by all women no matter who they marry. But children are such a blessing, they make it all worthwhile."
Breanna knew that Sophie was trying to comfort her, but she had succeeded only in making her more apprehensive. She trembled when she tried to imagine what the man she was to marry would look like. The vision that came to mind was a ghastly painted face and a half-naked body. "Dear God, how can my own brother treat me with such small regard? How can he banish me from everything I hold dear and cast me into a life of . . . of . . ." Words failed Breanna. She could not imagine what kind of life she would be leading once she left Kenton.
"Try to think about the wonderful adventure that awaits you, Breanna. First, of course, you will travel to London, where you will meet the Marquess and be fitted for your trousseau. Then you will be going to Weatherford Hall in Cornwall. It is one of the largest and most impressive estates in Great Britain. I am told that the house is extraordinary, as are the farms and villages that surround it."
Breanna remembered the time last winter when she had come upon a rabbit that had been caught in a trap. The snow surrounding the trap had been bloody because the poor creature was tugging and pulling, trying to extricate itself from the trap. Breanna had quickly released the poor animal, but shortly thereafter it had died. She now knew how that rabbit must have felt, because she was
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