Page 17 of The Spirit of the Wolf

Sighing, she calmed herself. It could be worse. At least the Indian did not appear to be antagonistic, nor did he believe she was his captive. Perhaps it might be safe to assume that if she kept asking, she might be able to persuade him to help her.

To this end, she said, “You say you won me in this game with LaCroix?”

“Hau, hau.”

“Yes. I can see, given your understanding of the situation, how you might reason that you now…ah…own me.”

“Waste.”

“What does that word mean?”

“Good. It is good.”

“Ah… But, Mr. Coyote, I am English, I am not Indian and am not subject to your rules. To my knowledge, the English are not a people to be bought and sold in an Indian game of chance. Besides, this is America—many people come here to be free, free to live their lives as they see fit.”

He didn’t respond.

“And if this be the case, that we are free,” she continued, “then you don’t really own me and⁠—”

“But you are not in your own country. You are in my country, and here, if we are to travel together, we must be married. It is to be regretted that this is difficult for you to accept, but I will try to make it as easy for you as I can until I can take you to the traders. Once there, we will part, and you will once again be as free as the wind.”

Marietta swung her head around sharply. “But how do I know you will make it easy for me?”

“You will have to trust me.”

“Really? How do I know I can trust you?” She turned slightly so that she could watch him as she spoke. “I don’t know you. I don’t even remember how I came to be here. How am I supposed to believe you? For all I know, you might have stolen me from Jacques LaCroix. It certainly seems to be a custom in this country.”

“I did not steal you.”

She was not prepared to give quarter. “Or you might have actually encouraged LaCroix to drug me so you could cart me away without my screaming or alerting anyone to what you were doing.”

He said nothing to this, simply tightened his arm around her and drew her back against him.

“Well?” she asked after a while, wiggling around in his arms. “What do you have to say to that?”

She felt him shrug. “You are free to believe what you will.”

“But—”

“However,” he cut her off, “your observation is poor, if you think this.”

“And I might think it.”

He seemed to pay no attention to her as he continued. “If I meant to capture you, you would be tied and gagged. Do you see that you are not?”

“Immaterial.”

“I would have also taken you to my sleeping robes by now.”

“Your what?”

“A captured woman, and particularly a pretty one, is never left with her virginity—if she had it before her capture.”

Had he called her pretty? The compliment caused a warmth to stir within Marietta, enough so she didn’t quite catch the rest of what he’d spoken. However, too soon the entire meaning of his words penetrated. “You mean you… A woman who is captured… Mr. Coyote, did you…?”

“To you? I have not. Because you are now under my protection, I have not taken that which is considered mine to take.”

“And…and… Do you…? I mean…is it…? Will you?” She didn’t look at him.