Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance)

Home > Other > Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) > Page 7
Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) Page 7

by Constance O'Banyon


  This time Gabrielle was dumbstruck by the laughter that issued from her father's throat. "I damned sure do not intend to stand here and listen to insults from a young pup who is barely old enough to shave. I happen to know how old you are, so we will assume it is your youth which makes you speak so rashly, and not bad manners."

  "Were I beyond your age, I would still tell you what I think of your treatment of my mother. You have broken her heart every time you returned one of her letters unopened. You have caused her sleepless nights, and days of yearning for her girlhood home. She has suffered much because of you. I do not intend that you hurt her anymore."

  The old man's eyes narrowed, and a spark ignited. "Gabrielle is my daughter. I will treat her as I believe she deserves."

  "No, Monsieur, you will not," Judah declared, lapsing into French. "You have the earlier claim on her, but you forfeited your right to that claim. I am taking her away now!"

  Gabrielle reached out her hand to her father. "Please, Papa, do not do this. I can stand it if you do not want me, but do not put Judah through this torment."

  Gustave Montesquieu waved his daughter aside. "What makes you think I am the tormentor, Madame? Was it not your son who first started with the insults?"

  Gabrielle glanced up at her tall son, her eyes shining with love and pride. With a determination that surprised her father, she spoke. "If you do not see that when you hurt me, you hurt Judah, then we have nothing more to say to one another, Papa."

  The old man's shoulders sagged, and he seemed to visibly age before their eyes. "Have done, Gabrielle. The time for insults is over. I sent for you; how can you doubt that I wanted you home?"

  "If that is so, Papa, why were there no arrangements made for us in New Orleans. Why was the buggy not ready to receive us when we arrived at the docks of Bend of the River? If you meant to belittle me and my son, you have succeeded."

  The old man's face whitened, and his hand trembled as he reached for his gold-handled cane. "What are you saying? I told Sebastian that I — "

  "Did I hear my name spoken?" Sebastian ambled into the room, his hands crammed into his pockets. After his eyes moved briefly over Gabrielle, they came to rest on his cousin, Judah Slaughter. Sebastian had been listening outside the door, and this was not the puny American he had expected. No, this was a man who could sweep anyone who displeased him out of the way. And he had a closer blood tie to his Uncle Gustave—he was a real threat, and Sebastian knew it.

  "Did I, or did I not, tell you to make arrangements for my daughter's arrival?" the elder man demanded, his head rearing up like a charging bull's.

  "That you did, Uncle, and I did make arrangements. However, I see I was very remiss in my calculations on the time of their arrival. I made the arrangements for next week." He shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, well, you are here now, and that is all that counts, is it not?"

  Judah eyed his cousin with distaste, his lips curling somewhat. He didn't care for the man's foppish manner. Sebastian strutted like a peacock in his vermilion coat and tight-fitting pink pantaloons. Judah realized it had been Sebastian Montesquieu who had caused his mother's humiliation, not his grandfather as he had formerly thought, but that revelation in no way excused his grandfather for years of neglect, nor did it cool Judah's anger.

  Sebastian bowed slightly to Gabrielle Slaughter and gave her a weak smile. "Cousin Gabrielle, a long-overdue pleasure. Allow me to welcome you home." His words sounded sincere, but there was a half-hidden dullness in his watery blue eyes that bespoke something undefinable.

  When Sebastian turned to face Judah, there was no hint of a smile. The two men's warring eyes locked. Sebastian's sparkled with belligerence and unleashed hatred, while Judah's were cool and lethal.

  Seeing that his uncle was watching the meeting between him and his cousin, Sebastian smiled. "Cousin, this is indeed a happy day for Bend of the River. We are all eager to make your visit a happy one."

  Judah glared over Sebastian's shoulder to lock eyes with his grandfather. This had not been the welcome his mother had hoped for. There were strange hidden undertones in this room.

  "Sebastian, escort my daughter to her room. I want to talk to this young whelp alone." There was a hint of mirth in the shrewd old eyes. "I want to see if he can take insults as well as he can deliver them."

  Sebastian looked as if he would like to protest, but his uncle silenced him with a nod. Gabrielle was not in the least bit happy about leaving her son in the clutches of her father. However, the old man reached out and touched his daughter's flushed cheek with a tenderness that startled her. "It will be all right, ma chere. Go to your room and wait."

  Gabrielle gave her son a soft smile before turning to walk away, and when his mother and cousin had gone out the door, Judah turned back to his grandfather. "You and I have nothing to talk about, save the way you have treated my mother through the years. She is special in every way, and you have hurt her far too often."

  Gustave merely smiled and pointed with his cane at the chair opposite him. "Be seated. I always resented having to look up to a man. I like a man to be at eye level with me so I can see what he is thinking."

  Judah nodded grimly and seated himself in the chair, his eyes locked once more with his grandfather's. He would like nothing better than to spirit his mother out of this house, but not before he told this old tyrant a few truths.

  "I am taking my mother away from here tomorrow. I should have known you would only hurt her again."

  "I will ask you once more to speak in French," the old man commanded. "As for your mother, must I remind you again that she is my daughter?"

  "No," Judah bit out. "I have not forgotten. It is you who needs reminding."

  Gustave's hand trembled as it tightened on the handle of his cane. "I would like to make amends now, Judah. I am an old man who has made many mistakes. When you reach my age, I doubt that you will be able to say otherwise. I regret every day I was without my daughter. I know what she has been through. I also know many things about you and your growing-up years."

  "How can that be?" Judah asked scornfully.

  "I have my ways. It might surprise you what I know about you. My spies have kept me well informed of your progress over the years. I . . ." Gustave paused. "I am proud of the man you have become. Captain of your own ship at your age."

  Astonishment sealed Judah's lips, as his grandfather continued. "I know of the valiant struggle you made to fill your father's shoes. I also know about the sacrifices my daughter made to allow you to follow your dream, and of the loan she received so you could get the Winged Victory out of dry dock."

  Judah remembered the money they had borrowed to make the Winged Victory seaworthy. At the time he had been surprised that the bank had loaned him such a large sum of money and had made the payments low so he would have no trouble repaying them. Now he looked at his grandfather suspiciously. "Are you the one who was behind the bank loan?"

  The old man shifted his eyes away. "Why would I want to interfere in your life? Let us talk about your future, and not dwell on your past. I know you could use money now."

  "You know nothing about me."

  "I know that every penny you borrowed from the bank was paid back in full." Gustave chuckled. "I even know about Adriane Pierce, but I will wager your mother does not know about your mistress."

  Judah was surprised at how closely his grandfather had followed his life. He lowered his lashes so the man would not read his astonishment. "I do not believe it is customary for a son to inform his mother of his mistresses."

  "I have also learned that you are a young man with high values and a strong code of honor." The old man's eyes bore into Judah. "A man must put honor above everything else. It was so in my father's day; it must be so in your day. I cannot leave Bend of the River to a man who is unaware of the sacred trust and the responsibility he will be taking on. The man I choose to take over when I am gone must be above reproach."

  Judah stood up slowly, forcing his grandfather to cr
ane his neck to look into his eyes. "If you are hinting that I might be that man, you are mistaken. I want nothing from you." Judah sneered. "You can take your Bend of the River Plantation and be damned, old man. If you know about me, as you say you do, then you know I am not stupid and I will not play your little games. How dare you think you can bring me here and play me against your nephew, Sebastian."

  The old man's eyes glowed with excitement. "Speak in French," he said again. "What makes you think I would entrust my fortune and my home to a young whelp like you," he said, watching Judah with the same predatory instincts a hawk might watch a rattlesnake.

  Judah deliberately spoke in English. "I suspect you would like to watch a battle brewing—some upheaval that would take your mind off the fact that you are an old man and will soon have to release your hold on everything that you greedily clutched for so long. You overlooked one aspect, Grandfather. You will have to have two willing prospects to play out your little game. When I leave, you will only have one."

  "You need money. Are you not tempted by a fortune? Do you know what it is like to have the power to rule an empire? Power beyond your wildest imagination?"

  Judah's lips curled in disgust. "In the name of all that is holy, do you think to lure me into your trap with the promise of wealth? I told you, I want nothing that belongs to you. It galls me that I am forced to remain under your roof this one night."

  Instead of being insulted, the old man's eyes danced merrily. "What if I told you I would leave you everything I have, with no strings attached?"

  "I would know it was a trick."

  Gustave chuckled. "You would be right. I would have to lay down a few stipulations."

  Judah's eyes seemed to spit blue fire. "Then I would tell you to take your offer and go straight to hell. I am sorry to say that you have lived up to my worst expectations. I had hoped, for my mother's sake, that you were sincere in your desire to see her."

  Gustave's eyes took on a cunning glow. "So you will leave us tomorrow?"

  "As soon as I can walk out that front door."

  At that moment the old man grabbed his chest and began to gasp for breath. "My heart," he whispered through trembling lips. "This is . . . a . . . bad one."

  Judah watched helplessly as his grandfather slumped back in the chair. Dropping to his knees, he felt guilty for having been so rough on the old man. After all, Gustave Montesquieu was quite frail. "Tell me what to do!" he urged. "Have you had these attacks before?"

  "Moses will know what to do —get Moses!"

  Judah dashed across the room, flung open the door leading to the hallway, and almost collided with a giant black man who appeared out of nowhere. "Find someone named Moses," Judah told him. "Your master is ill."

  The big man looked Judah over from head to foot before he answered. "I am called Moses. I will tend to my master."

  Judah watched Moses lumber into the room. As he stood by helplessly, the big man lifted his grandfather into his arms. "Shall I send someone for a doctor?" Judah asked, not knowing what to do.

  "No, that will not be necessary. My master has had these attacks before. I know what to do. He will need much rest and no excitement, M'sieu. Any strain might mean the end for him."

  Moses carried Gustave Montesquieu as if he weighed no more than a child, Judah's guilt deepened. He should never have argued with his grandfather. His mother would take it hard if anything happened to her father.

  Judah did not hear the door at the far end of the room shut with a soft thud. He was aware that the butler, Noal, hurried down the hallway and up the stairs to relay what had occurred to Sebastian's mother, Alicia.

  Judah crossed the room in heavy strides. He stepped into the hallway and ascended the stairs to tell his mother what had happened. His heart was heavy, for he knew she would never leave this house now that her father was ill. He had the feeling that he was in a situation over which he had no control. His feet had started down a path on which there was no returning.

  Moses seated his master in the heavily cushioned chair by the bedroom window. The old man's eyes were lively with excitement, and there was no trace of illness on his smiling face. His body shook with laughter as he looked to the man who had faithfully served him for forty years. "What do you think, Moses? Was I convincing?"

  "He was most concerned, M'sieu."

  "What did you think of the boy?"

  "It was as you said, he has a high sense of honor." The old black face broke into a wide grin. "I believe him to be not unlike yourself, M'sieu."

  "Yes, by damn, he is like me. I am sick to death of my nephew, Sebastian, and his conniving mother. They both sit by like poisonous snakes, waiting to strike. They cannot wait until I pass from this world so they can get their hands on Bend of the River. But we will show them. We still have a few tricks up our sleeves, Moses."

  The old man's eyes were clear and sparkled with a new awareness and joy. "He really is like me, isn't he now, Moses? You would not say it if it were not true, would you?"

  "He is you when you were a young man, M'sieu."

  "Did you hear him when he told me what I could do with Bend of the River?" Gustave's laughter filled the room. "He cannot be bought, Moses. I will have to earn his respect. Damn me if my daughter did not do well — what a grandson I have in Judah Slaughter!"

  The room was stiflingly hot, and the air was heavy with the overpoweringly sweet scent of eau de toilette. The woman who reclined on the satin-draped bed held no hint of her former beauty. Her plump figure was evidence of over-indulgence in rich food, and her face was painted and rouged in an attempt to disguise the wrinkles that fanned out around her eyes and mouth. Her lusterless eyes looked as if they would bulge out of their sockets as her lips twisted in anger.

  "That old man has gone too far this time!" Alicia Montesquieu pounded her fists into a pillow. I will not be put out by this… this upstart, Judah Slaughter. We have lived under your uncle's tyranny for years —indulging his every whim, bowing to his slightest wishes. He led us to believe that Bend of the River would one day belong to you. Now he plays with our emotions. I will not have it!"

  Sebastian's eyes darkened slyly. "Judah Slaughter will never be master of Bend of the River—it is mine and mine alone."

  "What shall we do?" his mother asked, plopping a chocolate bonbon into her mouth.

  "We will wait and bide our time until it is the right moment to strike. Meanwhile, I believe it would be wise to try to get on the good side of Gabrielle and her son. We do not want my uncle to become suspicious."

  Alicia's eyes twitched with delight. "You mean lull them into passiveness, make them and the old man think we are genuinely happy to see them?"

  "Exactly."

  She clapped her hands together like a child who has just been promised a treat. "We will outfox them all, will we not, Sebastian? They are no match for the two of us."

  With their heads together like a couple of conspirators, Sebastian and his mother began to formulate their plans.

  "I knew the moment I saw Judah Slaughter that he was everything my uncle expected me to be, though he never did give me a chance to live up to his expectations. I would have done anything to please him."

  "I warned you that your gambling would get you into trouble. I tried to tell your father the same thing, but he would not listen either. You should never have promised Ben Carson fifty acres of the bottomland to pay off a gambling debt. You should never have done that. Did you not know your uncle would find out. He has ears and eyes everywhere."

  Sebastian's eyes became cold. "I will not lose Bend of the River!"

  "Do not worry, my son. We will find a way to discredit Judah Slaughter in your uncle's eyes."

  5

  Judah Slaughter glanced around the grand ballroom with bored indifference. It was his first experience with a masquerade ball. He remembered his mother telling him that this was the ball everyone looked forward to all year, and he noted that everyone was in a joyous mood, seeming to approach life with fri
volous abandon. Sebastian wore brown velvet and had come dressed as a cavalier. Judah, looking handsome dressed all in black but for his white shirt, had refused to wear a costume.

  This party was unlike any of the functions Judah had attended in Boston, and he could not think why he had allowed Sebastian to talk him into putting in an appearance. Perhaps it was because he wanted to get away from Bend of the River and the ominous cloud that seem to cling about it. Judah had not seen his grandfather since their first meeting, although his mother visited the old man each day. According to her, his grandfather was still too ill for them to think of leaving.

  Judah glanced back at the people who danced by. One was dressed as a court jester, others as eighteenth-century royalty. Roman soldiers danced with peasant maids. As the music slowed, Judah took stock of the young ladies that danced by amid swishes of silk, trailing enticing fragrances. Stepping back into the shadows, he hoped to go unobserved while he watched the gaiety around him.

  Above the din of music and murmuring voices, Judah heard his name mentioned. Turning, he saw two white-headed matrons discussing him. He decided one or both of them must be hard of hearing because they were talking loudly enough for their voices to carry. It was apparent they did not know he stood just behind them.

  The older of the two, a woman with a prominent nose and an eager gleam in her eyes had said, "My dear, how can Gustave Montesquieu, who is from our finest family, have a grandson like the Slaughter youth? And furthermore, from what nationality is the name Slaughter? It sounds positively primitive to me."

  "Haven't you heard?" her companion asked with gleaming eyes, glad she could enlighten her friend. "Gustave's daughter married an American some years back!"

  With a twist of his upper lip Judah noticed his nationality had just been pronounced in the same tone one would have used if announcing he had the pox.

  "No! How can that be? An American!"

 

‹ Prev