Chapter 2 #2
If only she could travel on her own, or hasten her guide. But neither action seemed possible. Her escort, Jacques LaCroix, appeared to manage his life in a tempo much akin to sluggishness.
At least Marietta possessed enough gold to buy her passage from the man. Unconsciously, she placed her hand over her purse, which was, for safety, resting on a string around her neck and tucked beneath her chemise.
The coin had come from Princess Sierra, Marietta’s former mistress. Upon learning of Marietta’s inheritance, Princess Sierra, a Spanish aristocrat, had generously bestowed the gold to her friend, giving her more than enough to see Marietta back to England.
A good friend she was too. Was it not Princess Sierra who, so many years ago, had rescued Marietta from obscurity? And at a time when Marietta had no one to turn to?
Still, despite this, it was not in Marietta’s heart to forgive her uncle what he had done. Unwittingly, she thought back to so many years ago…
“Have a seat, Marietta.” The Earl of Welsford, Marietta’s uncle, indicated an empty seat across from his massive desk.
Ten-year-old Marietta hobbled forward to do as he bid, sitting and at once disappearing into the immense chair.
“As you know, there are hard times upon us. Your father and mother did not provide for you as well as they might.”
Marietta frowned. “But Papa always said that if anything ever happened to him, there was money enough to support me.”
“The mere wishes of a dreamer. You must know that your doctor bills alone have forced your aunt and me into debt in order to pay them.”
Marietta remained mute, but she knew her uncle lied. He gambled. If her family’s money were gone, she was certain it was this which had consumed it.
“Your aunt and I simply cannot continue to support you on the meager inheritance your father left us.”
Marietta said nothing, but she became apprehensive.
“But come, don’t look so downtrodden, girl.
I have made arrangements for you. An opportunity has presented itself, and I was quick to take advantage of it, being the smart businessman that I am.
Starting next week, you will be in service to a princess, a royal princess. The arrangements have all been made.”
“You have sold me into service?” Even at ten years of age, Marietta understood the implications of this.
“Come, girl, there is no need to stare daggers at me. It is not so bad. You will be serving royalty. Only those of gentle birth are allowed such a grand opportunity.”
Marietta kept her tongue, but she was certain that the only one who had received any “opportunity” was her uncle.
However, the earl rose, towering over her.
He smiled, though there was more self-indulgence in the expression than good humor.
“Marietta, Marietta, don’t look so crestfallen.
It’s not the end of the world. The princess is your age.
You’ll be tutored along with her as though you yourself were royalty. You’ll be treated well.”
“But I will be a servant.”
“A servant to royalty, Marietta. Others should be so lucky.”
“Then let someone else have the opportunity.”
The earl merely smiled once more. “All must work for their keep, Marietta, even the tiniest ant. It is already done. The arrangements have been made. You will leave in a week’s time. Now, that is all.”
Marietta had never forgotten, nor forgiven.
It wasn’t as if her life with the princess had ever been one of distress. Quite the contrary. But a person liked to think herself the purveyor of her own deeds, and servitude was still servitude.
Crash!
The roar of thunder shook the ground, causing Marietta to reach out toward Yellow Swan, the young Indian woman who was not only her maid, but who had become her friend.
“That…that lightning strike was close. Do you know anything about these huts? Are we safe here?” Marietta glanced quickly toward the young woman.
“We…safe,” said Yellow Swan soothingly, and Marietta smiled, admiring the other woman.
Yellow Swan’s friendship had truly been a blessing.
Not only was Yellow Swan kindhearted, she was pretty, in an exotic sort of way.
She had been stationed at the American Fur Company for some time, and her time there had lent her an unusual ability: She could hold a conversation, though stilted, in English.
Plus, Yellow Swan was acquainted—at least a little—with the white man’s ways.
But why Yellow Swan had even come to the fort owned by the American Fur Company, and why she had chosen to remain there—for she had not married any of the white men who worked there—Marietta had never been able to ascertain.
One detail about the woman was certain, however. Yellow Swan was quite alone in the world, and when Princess Sierra had approached her—for the princess had been seeking someone to accompany Marietta—Yellow Swan had been quite happy about the arrangements.
Personally, Marietta suspected that Yellow Swan was hoping to reunite with family. It was the most Marietta had ever learned from Yellow Swan: The woman searched for someone or several someones.
All at once, Yellow Swan turned toward her, placing her hand over Marietta’s. Though her eyes were wide, the maiden repeated, “We…safe. More safe than…if we…be…on plains.”
“Yes, of this I am certain,” said Marietta. “But how secure is this hut, after all?”
“Good,” replied Yellow Swan. “Good…safe…”
Marietta shivered. “I hate thunderstorms. I have never been in one when there hasn’t been something bad that’s happened.”
Yellow Swan gave Marietta a puzzled look. “Then…white friend must not…seen…many.”
“I have sat through plenty of thunderstorms. But always they are destructive. They kill trees, sometimes they kill animals, sometimes people.”
Yellow Swan nodded. “Han. Very…bad.”
“Yes,” agreed Marietta. “Very bad.” In a voice so low it was barely audible, Marietta whispered, “My parents were killed in a lightning storm.”
“Parents? Killed?”
Marietta glanced away. “Many years ago, my father and mother were traveling in a carriage—it was late at night. They shouldn’t have been out on the roads.
But they were anxious to take me to a physician who was unable to travel to our home.
It was an unusual journey to undertake, but they were afraid I wouldn’t survive until morning, you see. I was very young and I was sick.
“As they traveled, a storm came upon them. Lightning struck close to the road. Too close. The horses bolted. The carriage overturned on a cliff. My parents were caught in the coach, whereas I…I was thrown free…”
Silently Yellow Swan pressed Marietta’s hand.
“I still carry the scars of the accident.” Marietta showed Yellow Swan the scar that ran up her forearm. “I couldn’t walk for two years. I suppose this is what eventually drove my uncle to put me into service. I believe he thought I would be a burden to him for the rest of my life.”
“Put…in…service?”
Marietta gazed up briefly at Yellow Swan. “Do you remember Princess Sierra? High Wolf’s wife? The woman who introduced us?”
The Indian maiden nodded.
“For fourteen years I was her maid—a service which is rather like what you are with me, except I was bound to the princess forever, or until she no longer had need of my service. The only difference between what I was and what you are to me is that you are only traveling with me as far as St. Louis. You are also here at your own free will, something I was not allowed.”
“Ahh…”
“Nevertheless,” said Marietta, “the arrangement with the princess turned out well. Under Princess Sierra’s care, I recovered fully, for the princess demanded little of me, except that I be her friend.”
In the distance, more thunder sounded, but it was so far away it no longer seemed a threat. However, the clouds overhead must have opened up completely, for when the rain came, its downpour was furious. At once, moist air swept into the room.
Taking a whiff of the rain-soaked air, Marietta asked, “Will it rain inside the hut tonight?”
“Hiya, mistress…safe. No rain…here.”
“Good. I am glad.” With a sigh, Marietta set her attention to other matters, to the interior of the lodge.
The Minnetaree dwelling looked to be no more than a mud or clay hut.
Nevertheless, it was really quite spacious, probably being about two hundred paces in diameter.
It was also very clean. The floor, which was made of mud, was packed down so well, she was certain that if a white dress were to be trailed over it, there would be no dirt or mud to be seen upon the dress.
All the Indians’ things, their furniture and bags, were also put away neatly.
In the center of the hut was a hearth in the form of a circle, sunk into the ground.
It was here that a small fire had been built, and it appeared to Marietta as though the blaze were always lit.
What was more, an earthen pot, containing some sort of soup, was suspended over the fire, the pot seeming to be always full, as well.
Next to the hearth sat her hired guide, Jacques LaCroix. After a week of rough travel and open-air sleeping—they had started at the American Fur Company and had followed the river south—this hut was like a godsend.
Not that she trusted LaCroix overly much. He had come to her recommended by the gentleman who headed the American Fur Company. However, when neither Princess Sierra nor her husband, High Wolf, trusted the man, then Marietta didn’t either. But there had been no one else.