Dakota Dreams (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon Page B
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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pulled his hat low over his forehead, studying Dakota, who was seated across from him. He had to admit that John Donegal had transformed Dakota's outward appearance. The buckskins had been exchanged for elegantly cut blue-gray trousers and coat. The Indian moccasins had been replaced with a fine pair of black leather boots.
The three men were now on their way to the Davenshire Hotel, where they would be residing until such time as John decided Dakota was ready to be presented to his grandfather.
Dakota had been hesitant to give up his buckskins, for he knew with them went his old way of life. He flexed his shoulders, feeling the confinement of the garments he wore. He had the urge to rip the cravat from his neck so he could breathe properly. Why did the white men put on so many trappings? he wondered. The Indian way was better, where one's body was not constrained beneath heavy clothing.
With mild curiosity, Dakota stared out the window of the moving coach. This was the London he had read about. To the west, he could see a view of London Bridge. Then his eyes moved on to the mass of humanity pressed together on the crowded street. Women were ladened with heavy bundles and children dashed about in a game of tag. There were apple stalls, vegetable vendors, and fishmongers selling their wares. The chimney sweep walked unimpeded beside the tradesmen. The singsong voice of a woman selling lavender could be heard above the crowd. "Lavender, buy my sweet lavender."
The coach turned off the main thoroughfare and onto a quiet, tree-lined avenue. They had reached the hotel, and John ushered Dakota inside. As of yet, Dakota had refused to have his hair cut, and John was wondering how he would get around this final obstacle. He realized that each new accomplishment Dakota mastered brought him one step closer to the day he could be presented to his grandfather. John had discovered that Dakota could not be coerced into doing something he didn't want to, so he would have to make Dakota want his hair cut.
When they reached the suite of rooms that had been reserved for them, Dakota paced the room like a caged animal, while they waited for their trunks to be delivered and unpacked.
Levi watched Dakota with amusement. John may have made him look like a young lord, but he was finding the confines and rules of the nobility somewhat constraining.
"How soon can I meet my grandfather?" Dakota asked, stopping behind John, who was standing before a mirror and straightening his cravat.
"I don't know," he said easily. "That depends on you." He turned away from the mirror, pretending to be indifferent to Dakota's inquiry.
"How does it depend on me?"
"It's very simple. After your hair has been cut, I shall take you to meet your grandfather."
Dakota was quiet for a moment, and Levi knew he was pondering the dilemma. "I will have my hair cut now," Dakota said at last. "I do not like it, but I have seen that it is the way everyone else wears their hair."
John stood up, ready to act before Dakota changed his mind. "You wait right here while I send for Sidney Cox, who is the best hairdresser in London."
***
Dakota observed the stranger in the mirror, with the neatly clipped hair, feeling as if he had lost his identity. Now he was just one of many, looking like the mass of humanity that occupied London.
"Dakota," John said, breaking into his thoughts. "Do you recall I told you that I made a wager with the Henley brothers?"
A muscle twitched next to Dakota's lips as he tried not to smile. "Yes, I believe you wanted to prove to them that you could turn a savage into a gentleman."
"Yes, well something like that. I believe the time is right to collect my wager. When that is accomplished, I will take you to meet your grandfather."
"Just where do you expect this meeting to take place so you can show off your successful attempt to civilize me, John?" This was asked with humor dancing in Dakota's eyes.
John realized that only a man with great inner
The three men were now on their way to the Davenshire Hotel, where they would be residing until such time as John decided Dakota was ready to be presented to his grandfather.
Dakota had been hesitant to give up his buckskins, for he knew with them went his old way of life. He flexed his shoulders, feeling the confinement of the garments he wore. He had the urge to rip the cravat from his neck so he could breathe properly. Why did the white men put on so many trappings? he wondered. The Indian way was better, where one's body was not constrained beneath heavy clothing.
With mild curiosity, Dakota stared out the window of the moving coach. This was the London he had read about. To the west, he could see a view of London Bridge. Then his eyes moved on to the mass of humanity pressed together on the crowded street. Women were ladened with heavy bundles and children dashed about in a game of tag. There were apple stalls, vegetable vendors, and fishmongers selling their wares. The chimney sweep walked unimpeded beside the tradesmen. The singsong voice of a woman selling lavender could be heard above the crowd. "Lavender, buy my sweet lavender."
The coach turned off the main thoroughfare and onto a quiet, tree-lined avenue. They had reached the hotel, and John ushered Dakota inside. As of yet, Dakota had refused to have his hair cut, and John was wondering how he would get around this final obstacle. He realized that each new accomplishment Dakota mastered brought him one step closer to the day he could be presented to his grandfather. John had discovered that Dakota could not be coerced into doing something he didn't want to, so he would have to make Dakota want his hair cut.
When they reached the suite of rooms that had been reserved for them, Dakota paced the room like a caged animal, while they waited for their trunks to be delivered and unpacked.
Levi watched Dakota with amusement. John may have made him look like a young lord, but he was finding the confines and rules of the nobility somewhat constraining.
"How soon can I meet my grandfather?" Dakota asked, stopping behind John, who was standing before a mirror and straightening his cravat.
"I don't know," he said easily. "That depends on you." He turned away from the mirror, pretending to be indifferent to Dakota's inquiry.
"How does it depend on me?"
"It's very simple. After your hair has been cut, I shall take you to meet your grandfather."
Dakota was quiet for a moment, and Levi knew he was pondering the dilemma. "I will have my hair cut now," Dakota said at last. "I do not like it, but I have seen that it is the way everyone else wears their hair."
John stood up, ready to act before Dakota changed his mind. "You wait right here while I send for Sidney Cox, who is the best hairdresser in London."
***
Dakota observed the stranger in the mirror, with the neatly clipped hair, feeling as if he had lost his identity. Now he was just one of many, looking like the mass of humanity that occupied London.
"Dakota," John said, breaking into his thoughts. "Do you recall I told you that I made a wager with the Henley brothers?"
A muscle twitched next to Dakota's lips as he tried not to smile. "Yes, I believe you wanted to prove to them that you could turn a savage into a gentleman."
"Yes, well something like that. I believe the time is right to collect my wager. When that is accomplished, I will take you to meet your grandfather."
"Just where do you expect this meeting to take place so you can show off your successful attempt to civilize me, John?" This was asked with humor dancing in Dakota's eyes.
John realized that only a man with great inner
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