"I hope Mika is doing well at the ball," Alice sighed as she gulped down a shot of whisky.

Uncas chuckled, "She'll find her own way to shine."

He and Alice were stretched lazily along on the couch in the sitting room of the townhouse, sharing a bottle of warmed whisky, waiting for the children to return home. They each occupied one end of the couch, with Alice's feet on Uncas' lap. He was absently massaging her feet with one hand, a shot glass cradled in the other.

Alice groaned, "That is what I am worried about. She doing things her own way." When Uncas did not answer, she nudged his chest with her toe, "You have been distracted the whole evening. What is it?" "Mika's new tattoo," he answered truthfully as he emptied his shot. "I know what it means."

Alice's eyes narrowed, "So what does it mean?" Uncas filled their glasses and leaned back on the couch, "Angel in the wind." His wife blinked at him, flabbergasted. Uncas ventured cautiously, "Knoton… his name means 'wind'. " Alice frowned for a few seconds before it dawned on her what Uncas was trying to explain to her. "Knoton? Mika has her heart set on Knoton?" Alice sputtered, sitting up so abruptly that she nearly kicked Uncas' glass out of his hand.

"He is a fine boy. A fine warrior," Uncas said. Alice just gaped at him in a stupefied manner. "Were you hoping she really would pick one of the Englishmen at the ball? Would you prefer she married an Englishman?" Uncas asked bluntly.

Alice scowled, "More specifically, I believe you are asking me whether I prefer our daughter to marry a white man. How could you think such a thing?" Uncas flicked her a pointed look, "It is a logical question. You have been grumbling how untamed she is and she marrying an untamed warrior would not help." "That does not mean I want her to settle down with an Englishman." Alice retorted, swinging her feet off his lap. Uncas infuriated her occasionally when he argued using his brand of calculated logic.

However, she recalled his worry when he saw people whispering about Mika when they were shopping along the streets a few days earlier. While their daughter was obviously full-blooded white and the very image of Bryan, there was something of the way she moved and carried herself that was distinctly off-kilter. Her lithe grace was more wild gazelle than courtly. She swaggered rather than swayed, her golden tan an unusual contrast to her pale hair and glittering ice-blue eyes. And she was taller than the average English girl, all lanky limbs and coltish curves. Bryan had been tall, almost the same height as Uncas. Lady Mikayla Nicholson was more warrior princess than elegant lady of the manor.

Uncas himself drew attention when he was out and about in London with his family. Many knew the widowed former Countess Craven had remarried to a Native American, and were equally repulsed and fascinated. Though Uncas dressed more formally to blend in, usually in a simple snow-white shirt, riding breeches and boots, he still stood out with his dark, hewn features and long, straight hair, the single gold earring dangling on one ear. Alice had heard passers-by wonder aloud whether he was a savage but Uncas, used to similar treatment back in the cities in America, was unperturbed. But he certainly did not feel the same tolerance when Mika was the one gossiped about.

Alice's irritation dissipated instantly and she wriggled across the couch to sit next to him. Her husband was just worried about their little girl. She snuggled into his warm, hard chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. Despite being in his mid-forties, he was still as muscled and as trim as before. "I do not ask anything of Mika's choice of a husband except one thing. I want her to marry someone who will love her like how Bryan loved me, and how you love me," she whispered, dropping a kiss in the hollow between his collarbones.

Uncas muttered, "I don't want anyone to change her. I don't want her to change for anyone. She is perfect the way she is." Alice smiled at his fierce loyalty towards his daughter. "If Knoton is the one for her, so be it. If he mistreats her, Ichante will kill him, "Alice murmured placidly. "I like Knoton, by the way. I am just surprised Mika would fall for him," she resumed, playing with Uncas' earring. Uncas tilted his head down and squinted at her, "Why?" "She is always complaining how serious, silent and reserved you and Ichante are. Knoton… is very much the same."

Uncas chortled dryly, "That's her retribution for grumbling about her father and brother all the time. Losing her heart to a man who is as boring as us." Alice reached up to kiss his lips, "A brave, honourable warrior like her father, brother and grandfather." Uncas' eyes darkened as he twined his hand into Alice's hair and deepened the kiss. Alice gave a little moan of contentment as she melted in her husband's arms. If Knoton made Mika feel anything like how Uncas made Alice feel, she was all for her daughter giving her heart to the amber-eyed warrior.


Earl or savage, Callum Nicholson was a splendid specimen of a man.

Catriona could barely tear her eyes away from the tall, dark man who stood in front of her.

His formal evening clothes fit him superbly, emphasising his wide shoulders and lean, muscled frame. The single silver earring he wore in one ear added a rakish appeal to his appearance and those eyes of his… Catriona felt her skin prickle with pleasure whenever those alert, almond-shaped silver eyes settled on her. The expression in them was unreadable though. The man himself was inscrutable. He was chatting amicably with her brother about horses, of all subjects under the sun. Her family reared horses and when Callum heard that, he had pressed Ross for more information. Ross himself was an avid rider and a lover of horses, so he was happy to comply with the American-bred earl.

Catriona herself was having an enjoyable discussion with Magena about the latest happenings in London. Her beautiful blond cousin was another matter. Though Catriona could tell Mikayla genuinely tried to sustain interest in the conversation, she was rapidly growing bored. "Has any of the gentlemen snared your interest, Mikayla?" Catriona posed casually, dipping her head at an old crony dowager duchess who brushed past the group deliberately in order to get a good look at them. They did form quite a quirky bunch – the Scottish siblings and the purportedly "savage" siblings, titled but in the eyes of the English ton, totally undeserving of the privilege.

There was a slight pause as Mikayla studied Catriona carefully, obviously weighing how much she could reveal to her recently acquired acquaintance. Finally, Mikayla answered succinctly, "No one in this room at least." Magena shook her head with amusement even as she squeezed Mikayla's shoulder, "You are that certain, Mika?" Mikayla levelled her cousin with a cool, even smile, "You know me, Gena."

"Who is the lucky man?" Catriona cajoled, intrigued at Mikayla's unwavering confidence. Mikayla fiddled with the delicate diamond bracelets on her wrist, "Not just a man, a warrior."


Knoton dived into the lake and broke cleanly through the surface a few seconds later, his hair plastered to his scalp. The summer heat was kicking in with a vengeance. He floated idly on his back, one hand shading his eyes from the sun. Mika. He couldn't stop thinking of her. Their last conversation in which she had stomped off in a rage. It was a rare display of anger since Mika never stomped – she moved with feline elegance, always imbued with a hint of austerity that could be attributed to her blueblooded heritage.

It was this lake when he stumbled upon Mika's secret – or secrets.


Four years earlier

Knoton eyed the darkening sky, his bowl of stew untouched in front of him. Honon and Ichante were canoeing under the falls without him. Knoton had planned to go with them but his grandmother had fallen ill and he had stayed back to care for her. He felt a tad guilty for wishing he could have gone with the boys. He had not seen them for a couple of months since they had been in Albany rather than their cabins. When they were at the cabins, they visited the Delaware camp every other week. They had arrived at the camp two days ago.

Knoton was also a frequent guest at both boys' homes and was tempted to build his own cabin near them. He would have to persuade his grandmother to let him live away from the camp though. He figured he could split this time between the camp and cabin. He was twenty summers – more than man enough to have his own home.

"Knoton?" Knoton knew who it was even before he turned around. It was Alice, whom he addressed as 'Aunt Alice' simply because he knew it was polite to do so in the white ways. His father had taught him that much. He remembered how she had laughed when they had met the first time and he had seriously greeted her as "Mrs Uncas" because he did not know the proper way to address her. She had reached out and hugged his shoulder, "You are such a well-mannered boy. If you must, call me Aunt Alice then." And he did and it stuck.

She knelt down hesitantly beside him, her brow knitted with worry. "Is something wrong?" he queried gently. She probably needed help with something. Uncas and Nathaniel had gone off hunting with Aylen in tow for a few days, while Cora and her daughters were only arriving at the camp the following week. Chingachcook was in the camp though so Knoton was curious as to why Alice was approaching him instead of her father-in-law.

"Have you seen Mika anywhere?" she whispered urgently. Knoton shook his head but he was not too worried. Ichante's younger sister was forever slipping off by herself and Ichante was forever running after her to make sure she was all right. Knoton did not understand why Ichante was so protective of his sister – the silver-haired girl was as Indian as any Delaware girl her age. She could ride a horse and handle a bow as well as her brothers and Honon, and was much more equipped than Magena and Nadie because she spent a lot of her time practising her skills. Knoton had caught her training furiously with Uncas and Ichante several times in the years they had known each other.

"She sneaked out of the camp sometime past noon and has not returned since. Chingachcook would have a fit if she isn't back soon. He doesn't like her exploring the forest alone too much, "Alice related with a resigned sigh. "I'll go look for her. She shouldn't be far," Knoton offered, rolling to his feet. At least this gave him an excuse to get some air. Alice rose to her feet, too and touched his arm gratefully, "I'm sorry to bother you, Knoton. If only Ichante or Honon were here, you would not…" He flashed her a brief, but warm smile, "No bother, Aunt Alice. I'll find her and bring her back."


An hour later, Knoton was getting a little worried. Mika was nowhere to be seen and for some reason, was not making her way back because they would have crossed paths if she had. Where could she be? An image of the lake that lay deeper into the forest crossed his mind. He remembered Ichante mentioning that Mika loved swimming there. Could she be there at this late hour? It was too cold to swim after dusk…but Knoton decided to give it a shot.

Thirty minutes later, he reached the lake and scanned the perimeter. He caught a shimmer of pale gold across the body of water. He had found Mika – she was sitting on a flat rock, her back towards him, her feet curled under her. He approached her soundlessly, figuring she could hear him since she was trained to. When he was within distance, he tapped her shoulder lightly, "Why are…" Before he could finish his sentence, she spun around with a feral scream and reached for her knife at her ankle simultaneously.

Knoton was stunned for a full second but his reflexes kicked in and he knocked her knife away just before it jabbed into his shoulder. The blade nicked two of his fingers in the process and he felt blood seep through his skin. Mika sprung to her feet and was going to land a punch across his face when he seized her shoulders roughly, "It's Knoton, damn it! I thought you could hear me coming! Open your eyes, Mika!"

Mika's head jolted back and Knoton saw that her eyes were open…but were unfocused. "Knoton?" she reiterated quietly, her body going still. Her hands drifted up to touch his hands and she ran her fingers over his knuckles. One finger traced the ridged scar across the top of his right hand while another dug under his left palm to feel the calluses there. "It is you." She concluded calmly and dropped back down on the rock.

Knoton had no idea what had just happened – one minute she was screaming like a banshee and the next, she was as cool as ice. He sank onto the ground next to her and studied her carefully. He captured her chin and turned her face towards him, "You can't see in darkness?" He knew he guessed right when she flinched. "I get that but why couldn't you hear me coming?" he asked doggedly, his eyes never leaving hers. She had lovely eyes, he realised for the first time. They were a pale, frosty blue in the moonlight and heavily lashed.

"I'm not too good when it comes to hearing people or animals creeping up on me. I can hear perfectly fine otherwise. I guess it is the English in me. I can't be as good as Ichante or Father no matter how hard they try to teach me." She shrugged matter-of-factly, pulling her knees to her chest. Something else struck Knoton, "You can't track well, too? Is that why Ichante's always running after you? He's worried that you will get lost."

She flushed a deep pink, "I'm working on that. Father said I'm getting better." Knoton was still bothered by her earlier violent reaction when all he had done was tap her shoulder. He recalled a conversation from long ago….when Knoton was about thirteen.


"Don't sneak up on Mika from behind. She hates it." Ichante warned Knoton and Honon when they had been playing together with the girls. "Why? It's fun." Honon had quipped. "Just don't. I won't let you off if you do," Ichante had snapped, surprising Knoton. Ichante never ever lost his temper.


Knoton cocked his head, "Ichante once said you hate it when people come up behind you. Why?" "I just don't, "Mika answered tightly, glaring at him. "Did something bad happen before?" he prodded, determined to find out. It just seemed odd that a girl as bold as any Indian brave would be scared of someone scaring her from behind. When she looked away, he pressed on, "Tell me. I can keep a secret."

Mika snorted, "You already know almost all my secrets. Even Mama, Aunt Cora and my cousins don't know I can't see well at night, and can't track to save my life. Father, Grandfather, Ichante and Uncle Nate promised never to tell because they know Mama wouldn't let me go off myself if she did. That's why Ichante always get all grumpy whenever I wanna go exploring myself." But yet Ichante never prevented his sister from doing so, choosing instead to stand guard over her. "Did something bad happen before?" Knoton repeated seriously.

Mika chewed on her bottom lip as she stared at Knoton, conflicted. His amber eyes met hers steadily, concern flickering in their depths. Mika took a deep breath. She was going to tell him her deepest, darkest fear – a phobia she had developed since she was four.

"When I was four, Ichante and I were attacked when we were swimming in a lake. We were grabbed from behind and held by our necks. Mama was over the other the side but even when she finally came over, the men didn't let us go. They held me from behind for the longest time and I was just dangling in the air. At that time, I couldn't speak either so I just cried. I think they held a knife to my neck at some point…I can't really remember. Since then, I've hated people coming up from behind me. To be honest, I'm scared of that happening which is why I always try not to let that happen. Ichante knows… and because he does, he literally watches my back all the time so I won't be afraid."

A crackling silence ensued as Knoton absorbed what Mika had just shared. Her experience would have traumatised an adult, let alone an innocent four-year-old. He did not blame Ichante for being protective now that he knew why. Knoton observed Mika's delicate, aquiline profile. She looked defiant, but the slight trembling of her bottom lip gave her away. Something deep inside Knoton splintered at that.

"You must think me silly. To be afraid though it has been ten years," Mika muttered, angry tears leaking down her cheeks. Knoton sidled nearer to her and thumbed her tears away, "I think you are the bravest girl I have ever known." He meant it. Mika continued to keep her face averted from him but he noticed a reluctant smile tugging at her lips and she did not brush his hand off her face. She was fourteen but at that moment, they seemed of equal maturity.

Knoton decided to change the subject, "I thought you Mohicans had a distress call. You are a little too far away but it was worth a try. " Mika grimaced, "Only Grandfather is near enough to hear it if I did. He would have been furious if he knew I couldn't find my way back. And banned me from leaving the camp. And he would have told Father…"

"Were you going to stay here till daybreak?" He asked dubiously. "I was going to try to make my way back slowly. I brought matches. But I figured Ichante would come get me soon enough." Mika replied. She tilted her head in his direction, "Why is it you?" "Ichante went canoeing with Honon. They won't be back until tomorrow afternoon. Your mother was worried and asked me to find you," Knoton supplied.

"Oh. I forgot all about the canoeing trip." Mika pouted. She got to her feet gracefully and dusted her hands, "Let's head back then before Mama works up a fiery temper." Knoton stood up and discovered Mika came up a few inches above his shoulder. She was tall for her age.

"I can't believe you almost stabbed and punched me. I thought you would recognise my voice." Knoton groused as they started walking away from the lake. A soft laugh escaped from Mika, "You don't speak enough for me to know your voice. At least you don't speak to me. And when I'm in that state, I don't hear or see anything."

"But you knew it was me later," Knoton mused affably. A few beats lapsed between them before Mika answered blithely, "I recognised your hands. I knew you had a scar on your right hand. You are left-handed so I know that hand would be more callused." Knoton drew up short and peered at her through the dark, unnerved at how observant she was. "I didn't know you notice so much," he finally said.

He heard her shuffling her feet and she responded cynically, "I notice everything about you, Knoton. Everything."


Present

"I notice everything about you, Knoton."

Knoton closed his eyes, the cool water lapping at his ears. From that night, he started noticing everything about Mika, too. But he kept his distance, aware that she was a lot younger than he was though she felt and acted like they were the same age. She neither felt white nor Indian to him – she was simply Mika. She was also Ichante's precious younger sister and that fact alone was reason enough for him not to treat Mika like any other girl. Ichante could draw his knife and tomahawk quicker than any other brave he knew. Crossing him would be akin to flirting with death.

Knoton was not inexperienced with women; neither was Ichante. And men did not shy away from Mika either. By the time she turned sixteen, she had blossomed fully into womanhood. Knoton had witnessed white men trip over their feet as they leered or gawked at her when she walked around in Albany. The young braves at the Delaware camp fought to win her approval and attention.

But Mika had always made it clear to Knoton she had her sights set on him. Though she never did said it, Knoton knew it every time their gazes clashed. The notion bewildered him, frustrated him, confused him… and humbled him. Maybe because in the deepest recesses of his being, he acknowledged she was an earl's daughter… with an immense inheritance attached to her. She could get any man she wanted on this side of America if she so wished. She would undoubtedly attract uncountable suitors in England, too.

Knoton had been born and bred in Albany, with summers and a couple of weeks during winter and spring spent with his mother's people. Admittedly, his father was far from penniless but certainly was no match to an earl's fortune. He grew up speaking Dutch and a smattering of English and French, and of course, Delaware. When dressed appropriately, he could pass for a tanned, full-blooded white. He was fairer than Ichante, more honey gold than dark bronze. He could somewhat pass for full Indian if not for his "sun" eyes, as his grandmother fondly described them. His parents kept a house in Albany where they resided whenever they visited. Knoton, though, rarely stayed there, choosing instead to bunk at Cora's boarding house or Alice's house whenever he was in Albany. He still had friends in Albany even though he lived at the camp after his parents left.

Knoton raised his left hand and rubbed two faint, thin white scars on the inside of his fingers – souvenirs from the night long ago where Mika's knife had accidentally cut him. "I left my mark on you, "Mika had grinned rather proudly when he finally told her a few months back where he had gotten the scars.

She had left much more than her mark on him… and he wondered whether he would ever have a chance to tell her that.


Mika hid a smile behind her hand when Magena accepted Ross' invitation to dance. Thanks to Aunt Cora who insisted all her children, nephews and niece should be able to perform a respectful waltz, they could all dance decently. Ichante had turned to Catriona and had started a conversation on Scotland. Mika had been to Scotland with her family since the Munros' had relatives there and Bryan had owned a couple of properties in Edinburgh, and a cottage in the Highlands. Catriona was happily surprised to find out that Mika and Ichante were familiar with Scotland.

Mika interrupted them, "Catriona, do you ride?"

The other woman replied immediately, "Of course I do. We do breed horses, you know."

"Wonderful. Why don't you and your brother come up to our country residence this weekend? We can all take a ride together. There are some lovely trails there, "Mika suggested, her gaze locked on her cousin and the handsome Scottish lord spinning around the dance floor. "Oh, we would love to," Catriona agreed, her eyes lighting up with anticipation.

Ichante shook his head with bemused defeat, tampering down the urge to tweak his sister's ear.

He would bet his best knife that Catriona had no idea that her version of riding would differ quite greatly from what he and Mika were used to.

Ichante figured his dream of a peaceful weekend had just gone up in smoke.


Author's Note

I decided to spend more time on Knoton for this chapter - and his history with Mika. I do think they make a rather lovely couple... ha! Anyway, I hope Ichante and Mika continue to enthrall you. Likewise for the little snippets I've written about Uncas and Alice...

XXOOO