Her eyes coyly dropped, and she held out a delicate hand. "You danced with my sister, Monsieur. Will you not also dance with me?"
"Indeed Mademoiselle, it would be my pleasure."
Bandera gave her sister a tight smile as she placed her hand on Judah's arm. With a feeling of helplessness, Liberty watched the two of them walk toward the house. She had just met this man who set her heart on fire, and Bandera was stealing him away. How could she ever hope to compete with her beautiful sister? Why did Judah not see that Bandera was playing a game with him? She had hoped he would be different from all the other gentlemen that trailed after Bandera—but apparently he was not.
By now Judah and Bandera had reached the polished dance floor, and he swung her into the stream of dancers. He could not drag his eyes away from her face. Her beauty was flawless, her body enticing, her smile flirtations.
"I wonder if I could steal you away from my cousin?" he murmured, as if in a trance.
"That depends," she said with a slow smile.
"On what?"
"Whether I want to be stolen away."
Bandera felt her skin tingle. She had never experienced such strong emotions with a man before. This man was different from all others; he was the forbidden fruit, the outsider. Her mother had trained her well, but she had never told her what to do if a man set her heart to throbbing like the hooves of a runway horse. Bandera thought of Sebastian. He had never stirred any emotion within her, only boredom and complacency. But he was the favorite, and destined to inherit the Montesquieu fortune. Money and power were the most important things in Bandera's life. Emotions would not buy lovely gowns, and love would not provide her with a home like Bend of the River.
"Why have you come among us?" she asked, raising her eyes to meet his turquoise gaze. If there was the slightest chance that this man would inherit instead of Sebastian, Bandera would gladly throw in her lot with him.
"Actually, I came only as an escort for my mother."
"Will you not stay?"
"I think not."
"What if your grandfather were to leave Bend of the River to you? Would you stay then?"
"No. If he were to saddle me with his holdings I would leave them to the nearest charitable organization." His voice was bitter. "I want nothing from my grandfather."
Bandera felt her heart sink. For one brief moment she had entertained the thought of being the wife of this handsome rogue. In comparison, how tiresome it would be to marry Sebastian. She shrugged her shoulders, resigning herself to the fact that being Sebastian's wife would be her lot in life.
Smiling up at Judah, she moved just the slightest fraction so her breasts brushed against his chest. She saw the fire leap into his eyes, and her heart raced. She was not married yet. There was no reason she couldn't enjoy this man's company for a time.
Liberty stared up at the ballroom, unmindful of the music and laughter. The glow from the numerous chandeliers shone like a beacon out the windows and into the garden. To her it was all so ridiculous. The dancers in their colorful costumes were like children playing at being grown-up.
As she walked down the path leading toward the river, her mind was troubled. What had happened to her tonight? Was it possible she was becoming a woman?
Liberty leaned against a tall magnolia tree, and was overcome with melancholy. Tonight, Judah Slaughter had stirred her young body to life. She was experiencing her first womanly feelings. She now knew why girls acted so silly when a gentleman was near. She had been unable to breathe when Judah Slaughter had held her in his arms. And she now knew why Bandera spent hours at her toilette, so she would look her best. This was what it felt like to be touched by a man.
Liberty raised her face to the sky, and watched a shooting star streaking across the heavens. She closed her eyes, and wished with all her young heart: "Please, please make me pretty so Judah Slaughter will look at me the way he looked at Bandera tonight!"
6
Liberty stood on the bank of the Mississippi River, watching the sun make its first appearance of the day. The air was fragrant with the scent of the nearby pine forest, and the fertile valley seemed to stretch on for as far as the eye could see. It was often her habit to ride out before sunrise so she could be alone and drink in the beauty of Briar Oaks.
Her horse, Goliath, trailed his reins as he grazed on the sweet grass that grew beneath a cypress tree. Dressed in a pair of britches she had found in the attic, her hair carelessly pushed beneath a black cap, Liberty made her way down to the river. Casting her line into the slow moving current, she then secured it between two large rocks which came together in a vee.
Liberty had been troubled since the night of the masquerade ball when she had met Judah Slaughter. Now, lost in thought, she wondered if she were becoming a woman, with a woman's needs and desires? Why did she get so little pleasure out of the things that had once brought her so much joy? This was the first time she had been fishing in weeks. She had been back to the swamp only once to see Zippora, and lately she found herself staring into the mirror, wondering why she had been born so homely.
She flopped over onto her stomach, and trailed her hand in the water, watching it ripple away from the shore. If this was what it was like becoming a woman, then Liberty could very well do without growing up; it was much too painful.
Liberty pensively watched a dragonfly skimming across the river, dipping its wings in the water. She was feeling lost and unsure of what direction her life was taking. She wondered if every girl felt this way when she started to grow up. Had Bandera?
"Hey there, young lad. Have you caught anything yet?"
Liberty froze at the sound of Judah Slaughter's voice. No! she thought in a panic, do not let it be him. Why must he always find her in the worst possible situation, and looking her most wretched? For the moment he seemed to believe her to be a boy. How horrified he would be when he discovered who she really was. Perhaps there was a chance that he would not discover her identity. She prayed his view of her had not been very clear the night of the ball and he would not recognize her now. Perhaps if she did not engage him in conversation, he would just ride away.
Slightly turning her head, Liberty watched Judah dismount and secure his horse to a tree. In frustration she pulled the cap lower over her forehead, and ducked her chin. "If you have come here to fish, you will be disappointed, Monsieur. The fish are not biting this morning," she said, trying to persuade him to leave.
Against her will, her eyes moved over him as he drew near. He stood with his muscled legs apart, staring absent-mindedly across the river. "I would think this is a fisherman's paradise. Rarely have I seen such an abundance of wildlife." His eyes dropped to her face. "Do you mind if I join you?"
She shrugged her shoulders, pretending indifference, while warring emotions battled inside her. She wanted to be near him, but feared he would discover she was not the boy he believed her to be.
"I thought I was the only one who was an early riser around here. I am glad to see I was wrong," he said, seating himself beside her.
Liberty drew up her legs and rested her head on her knees. What she would give to be wearing one of Bandera's lovely frocks at the moment. She wished she could think of something witty and charming to say. She wished she could crawl off somewhere and hide so she would not have to watch the horror in his eyes when he discovered she was not a boy at all.
"I see the river is running smoothly today," he observed, trying to draw her into conversation.
"That is true," she mumbled. "It often does."
"You don't talk much, do you, lad?"
"No."
"Do you often fish here?"
"Out"
"Do you live around here?"
"Not around . . . here."
Judah looked about him. "So, you live on Bend of the River Plantation. Is your father perhaps the overseer?"
"You are not on Bend of the River Plantation, Monsieur. You are on Briar Oaks. The dividing line is that row of pine trees to the right."
He arched a dark brow at her. "I seem to be trespassing."
"It is of little matter. Neighbors are always welcome at Briar Oaks."
There was a moment of silence before Judah spoke again. "Is the river always so muddy?"
"I suppose it is, but you will find that we French love our river."
"Even when she runs over her banks and floods the land?"
"Then we love her as a mother would love a wayward child."
"Eloquently put."
"You will forgive me if I have to leave now, Monsieur," Liberty said, rising unsteadily to her feet. "If you like, you can keep the fishing pole." Picking up the cane pole, she thrust it into his hands, wanting to make a hasty retreat.
As she moved back a pace, Judah's eyes followed the slender line of her body, which was well defined by the boyish clothing. He saw the gentle swell of breasts thrust against the stiff linen shirt . . . and he caught the sweet aroma that he now associated with young Liberty.
A smile suddenly tugged at his lips. He took a closer look at the freckles sprinkled over the pert upturned nose. As his eyes locked with shining blue eyes that held a hint of apprehension, he turned away.
"I will stay only if you stay with me, Mademoiselle Liberty."
"You . . . you know it is me?"
Gripping the fishing pole, he cast the line into the water before securing it between the rocks. "I didn't at first. You had me thoroughly fooled." Sitting down on the riverbank, he nodded to his right, indicating that she should join him.
Liberty removed her cap, and her hair tumbled across her shoulders and down her back. Reluctantly, she dropped down beside him, knowing her cheeks had turned a bright scarlet color. Turning her face toward the river, she hoped to quell her thundering heart. Why did she always have the feeling she was drowning whenever Judah Slaughter was near?
Judah stretched out his long form beside her as his eyes followed the bobbing cork that moved restlessly with the waves. "You are an amazing young woman, Liberty. I know of no other lady who would go out alone to fish."
She swung around to face him, and her hair made a silken swirl about her head. "What you meant to say is you don't think I am a lady at all? You believe, like so many of your sex, that a woman should spend her time sewing and making senseless chatter. Well, I am not like that. Sewing bores me, and I care not for asinine chatter. I find it all so artificial." She stopped, horrified that she had said too much. She had wanted to impress Judah Slaughter; she had ended up shocking and amusing him.
In that moment, her blue eyes blazed and the pulse throbbed in her arched neck. Judah drew in his breath as he saw the promise of beauty yet undeveloped. While this young girl had none of the graces that her sister possessed she had something more, something that he could not define. A refreshing honesty ... a zest for life ... a sense of humor that allowed her to view herself and others with amusement. He was fascinated by her, and it bothered him a great deal because of her young years.
"I, myself, have never been overly fond of idle chatter. However, I do like stimulating conversation. Mundane, everyday platitudes bore me."
Liberty began to relax. Unfolding her legs, she raised her face to the sun, feeling the warming rays caress her skin. "I detest hypocrisy of any kind, Monsieur. I find the games men and women play to attract each other tiresome and, perhaps, even a little humorous."
"In what way?" He was enchanted with this little minx. She was like no one he had ever known.
"Well," she began thoughtfully, "my sister has been schooled in what to talk about, what subjects not to broach with a gentleman. She has been taught how to use a fan to her advantage, how to walk, how to sit, even how to catch a man's eye from across the room. It is an old game, yet one would think all the men dull-witted because they fall for it every time. You should see how — "
Suddenly Liberty saw the smile on Judah's face, and she covered her mouth in horror. She was mortified by what she had been telling him. "Monsieur, I beg you to disregard everything I have said today. A man should never be told about the preparation a woman makes to trap ... I mean . . ." She was getting herself in deeper and deeper, while the smile on his face widened. ". . . My mother would be very displeased with me if she knew I had spoken so boldly," Liberty said, ducking her head, and feeling like a complete fool.
Leaning back against the soft grass, Judah folded his hands behind his head and stared into her blue eyes. "I find your refreshing approach to the act of the male-female ritual fascinating."
"I am sure it is not at all proper to tell a gentleman secrets that only a woman should know."
"I can see you standing back observing the rest of us with quiet indulgence. How tiresome it must be for you."
"Oh, I pray, Monsieur, you will not think me condescending. I beg that you forget what I have said to you today. My mother always accuses me of speaking before I have taken time to think. It is a habit I cannot seem to break, Monsieur— though I have often tried."
His delighted laughter filled the air. "I would like to press you not to change your ways, Liberty. Stay us charming and honest as you are. Allow the other ladies to play their little games. I have the feeling you are laughing at us all."
"Oh, no, Monsieur, I would never laugh at you." Reaching out to her scuffed brown boots, she traced the sole with her finger. "I . . . find you different from your cousin, Sebastian."
"In what way?"
"I . . . you . . . when I saw you that first night, you seemed to be detached from the others. I could see the scorn on your face as you watched the make-believe world that was created for grandes dames who want an advantageous marriage for their sons, and mothers with marriageable daughters who want to make a grand match."
"Are you not interested in making a favorable marriage?"
"No. I may have to enter a convent."
His dark brow arched. "In heaven's name why?"
"I have given this much thought. It is not unusual that the less favorable daughters in a family sometimes are forced to join an order to save face."
Judah's eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun as he watched her face. He detected hurt in the depth of her eyes, and he wondered what her life had been like, lived in the shadow of her beautiful sister. No wonder she had turned tomboy. Apparently someone was always pointing out her shortcomings and comparing her to Bandera.
"Is there not some young gentleman who interests you?"
Liberty met his eyes. "Only one. If it is possible, I suppose I shall one day marry him."
A smile parted his lips. "So, there will be no taking of the veil for you, Liberty. Does the fortunate boy know about your plans?"
"He is not a boy, but a man. He does not yet know how I feel about him. I hope that one day I can tell him—one day when I am grown up."
"The man is most fortunate," Judah whispered under his breath. His eyes moved up her trouser-clad legs, past the slight swell of her breasts, to her pixyish face. "Most fortunate. I doubt he will ever be bored with you at his side."
Liberty blushed and ducked her head at his words of praise. She felt her heart beating a wild tempo. What would Judah do if she were to tell him that he was that man? In that moment, she wanted more than anything to be beautiful. If she were to work very hard and adhere to her mother's demands, could she turn into a lady Judah would admire?
Turning to face him, Liberty saw that he was now lying on his back, staring at the sky. Her young eyes moved across his powerful legs, clad in gray pantloons which were stretched taut across bulging muscles. His black English riding boots came to his knees, and shone with a high gloss. The ruffles at the cuff of his white linen shirt rested against strong, sun-tanned hands. The blood ran' hot in her veins, as she thought of those hands touching her in the most intimate way.
Judah had removed his gray, cutaway jacket and casually tossed it aside. Her eyes were drawn to the hollow at the base of his throat; the golden hair on his chest was just visible above the top button on his shirt. His chin was strong;
his face handsome beyond belief. Golden skinned and golden haired; surely there was no other man like Judah Slaughter. Liberty could almost feel the strength of him radiate through the crisp morning air, and she was almost giddy from the effect. There was about him a sense of vitality and strength that no one could ignore. He was so alive, so male. She had no doubt that he had always been spoiled by the fair sex. Most probably he could have any woman he wanted.
Liberty remembered how Bandera had reacted to him, and she felt dread in her heart. Suppose Bandera decided she wanted Judah Slaughter? Bandera had certainly been attracted to him, and to Liberty's knowledge, no man could resist her sister's charm.
Judah turned to face Liberty, and she was caught in a tide of confusion when his turquoise eyes held her gaze. It was as if this were the moment in time that she had been created for. Judah Slaughter was the only man she would ever love. Would a man like him, who must have scores of lady friends, laugh at the love she felt for him?
There was complete silence as his eyes narrowed. It was a strange moment, and he felt the young girl pulling at him. Judah reached out his hand toward her, but drew it back before it made contact. What in the hell was wrong with him? he wondered. Liberty was a child, and he was having very grown-up thoughts about her. "How did you ever come by a name like Liberty?" he asked in a soft voice.
Liberty turned away so she could find her voice. "It was the name of my father's only sister. She died in a yellow fever epidemic."
"I see, a family name."
"Oui, my mother was not in favor of the name, but my father, who usually gives in to her, held out stubbornly in this."
"I think it is a lovely and unusual name."
Liberty reached for the saddlebags she had tossed on the ground earlier, and withdrew two apples. Pitching one to Judah, she shined hers on the leg of her trousers. "My father says it is a name to live up to. He says it demands integrity, honor, and honesty. I told him I would endeavor not to shame his sister's name."
Judah bit into the apple, all the while watching her face ease into her devilish little smile. "Sometimes it is very difficult to live up to my father's expectations, Monsieur."
Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) Page 9