"Are you coming to the ball here at Bend of the River on Saturday, Liberty?" Gabrielle wanted to know.
"No, I ... am too young."
"Nonsense. I will speak to your father and promise to look after you. I am sure he can be persuaded to let you attend."
Liberty beamed with happiness, and the day passed so quickly that she was sorry when her father came to take her home.
In the coach, Liberty chatted endlessly about Gabrielle, declaring that she would one day be a great lady, just like Judah's mother. She did not notice the soft faraway look that came into her father's eyes, or the grateful sigh that escaped his lips. Louis was relieved that Gabrielle had instilled in Liberty a sense of pride —a desire to become a lady. Yes, he thought, Gabrielle had given Liberty what her own mother had neglected to give.
Judah had just ridden into the stable, when he received the summons from his grandfather. Tired and irritated, he was not in the best of moods when he climbed the stairs to Gustave Montesquieu's room. It was time he told his grandfather that he was leaving. This life of leisure was not for him. Soon the Winged Victory would be returning, and he planned to sail for Boston.
When Judah neared his grandfather's chamber, the door swung open, and a smiling Moses greeted him. "It is good that your grandfather is feeling strong today so you can see him. He has been very ill. Have a care, it would not be good to upset him."
Judah caught the warning in the big man's voice. Looking around the chamber, he saw it was empty. Moses nodded toward the wide terrace. "You will find your grandfather out there taking the air."
There was a cloudless blue sky as Judah stepped onto the terrace. His grandfather was reclining on a chair, and even though the day was hot, there was a wool coverlet tucked about his legs.
"I understand you have been seeing some of the countryside, Judah. I also understand you have been seeing something of the Boudreaux daughters. I'm sure that does not please Sebastian overmuch."
"How about a greeting such as, 'Hello, Judah, how are you feeling?" the young man mocked. "I'm just fine, Grandfather, and how are you?"
The old man smiled. "I can see how you are; I don't have to ask. Now what about the Boudreaux sisters?"
"I have met them both."
"I am told that you are often in the company of Bandera Boudreaux."
Judah seated himself on the iron grillwork and folded his arms across his chest, not knowing if it was humor or disapproval that gleamed in his grandfather's eyes. "If your spies told you that, they must also have told you that I cannot wait to leave this place."
"I heard that from you the first day you arrived. I was hoping I could convince you to stay."
"Not likely."
"What would it take to induce you to remain with us?"
"Nothing you have would entice me to stay here."
The old man stared out over the green hills. "Perhaps there are certain young ladies who could persuade you otherwise. I speak of one of the Boudreaux sisters."
Apparently nothing happened in this valley that his grandfather did not know about. He must have learned that Judah was infatuated with Bandera. What Judah did not know was the point his grandfather was trying to make. He was sure he would be enlightened when it suited the old man. "You are well informed. Do you have a watchdog following me?"
The old man ignored the biting remark. "I gave you more credit than Sebastian. I see I was mistaken. Like him, you cannot see past a pretty face. If you were wise, you would wish a fond farewell to the elder Boudreaux daughter, and wait for the younger one to grow up."
Judah studied his grandfather for a moment. "Unfortunately, that will not be my choice to make. I leave the older daughter to Sebastian, and the younger to Providence. My future does not lie here."
"Where does it lie?"
"You know about the Winged Victory."
"Hah, that ship is no more than a rust bucket. You do not have the money to make her into a seaworthy vessel. You have to hug the shore in case she goes under. That is why you will never make a decent living at sea." Gustave's turquoise eyes gleamed with an excited light. "What would you say if I told you I had my will changed, leaving Bend of the River to you?"
Judah flicked an imaginary speck from the sleeve of his powder-blue coat. "I would tell you to go to hell."
Instead of being angry, the old man laughed delightedly. "By, God, you are the one who could hold this place together. Like it or not, you are my grandson, and I like the fact that you can spit in my face and turn your back on my fortune. However, I would caution you not to be foolhardy. Have you considered your mother."
"I can take care of my mother. She will come away with me."
"Will she? Have you noticed how content she has become?" The old man waved a gnarled hand in the air. "Gabrielle would leave if you asked it of her, but are you such a selfish bastard that you are willing to take her away from all this? What kind of life did she have in Boston? Most of her friends are here."
"You are the last one who can preach to me about my mother."
"Would you throw away a fortune?"
Judah's eyes narrowed. "I do not know what game you are playing, but Sebastian is your heir. I will not allow you to use me as a pawn in your little game."
The old man's eyes darkened. "I do not play games — not when it comes to Bend of the River Plantation. If you had grown up here, you would know without being told that land is the only thing that endures. This is your heritage, whether you like it or not. You have my blood running in your veins, and you cannot turn your back on this land. Sebastian is a fool. He would marry Bandera, and between the two of them they would squander the inheritance within a few years. Within five years, he would have lost Bend of the River, and I cannot allow that to happen."
"Why should that matter to you? Should that happen, you will be dead and past caring."
"Have you no pity for an old man, Judah? Is there no mercy in your heart?"
"Was there any pity in your heart when you turned your back on my mother?"
"Perhaps not, but I am trying to make amends for it now."
"You are not trying to make amends. You are a selfish old man, who merely wants his own way. You know the only way you can keep me here is by using my mother. You are not sorry for the way you treated her."
"I find I have missed my daughter, and I am glad she is home."
"But you are not sorry for the way you treated her."
The old man smiled. "We understand each other perfectly. I will leave Bend of the River to you, with only one stipulation. You are to forget about Bandera and marry Liberty Boudreaux."
Judah's jaw clamped tightly together and his turquoise eyes burned like flames. "Not you, or anyone, can tell me who I will marry. I told you that I do not want your damned plantation. Perhaps you will believe me when I sail away without a backward glance."
At that point the old man started coughing, and Moses rushed forward. "You had better go now; your grandfather is tiring. It would not be wise to upset him with more talk of your leaving."
His look of concern was genuine as Judah glanced at his grandfather's closed eyes. I shouldn't have come. Will he be all right?"
"Leave him to me," Moses said. "Go on about your business. I been taking care of M'sieu for many years."
When Judah was out of earshot, the old man opened his eyes a crack. "Did you hear, Moses?"
"I did. Your grandson does not like your offer."
"He will come around in time. Right now he would rather tell me to go to hell, than take what I offer him. I have little doubt that good sense will soon prevail."
"He is a man much like you. I know of several times you told someone to go to hell, and meant it."
"Yes, he is very like me. That is why he must not leave. Bend of the River needs him."
"He has the ship," Moses reminded Gustave.
"I happen to know he has very little money to pay the crew and keep that ship afloat. He will take my offer, if for no other reason than to have money to rep
air his damned ship."
Alicia edged her way out of the shadows and rushed across the hallway to her bedroom to avoid meeting Judah on his way out. Her worst fears had been realized; she had heard enough to know her son was no longer to be the future master of Bend of the River.
How dare that old man hand everything she and Sebastian had worked for over to Judah Slaughter and his mother. Something had to be done quickly. This was a desperate situation, and it called for desperate action. She would tell Sebastian what she had overheard; he would know what to do.
"They will never put me out," she muttered to herself, as she rushed to the stables where she knew she would find Sebastian.
Judah's boots clicked against the cypress boards as he crossed the ornamental bridge that spanned the wide pond. He was remembering the conversation he'd had with his grandfather earlier, and paying little heed to where his footsteps were taking him.
Finding himself on a wooded hill with a wide vista of the surrounding countryside, he drew in his breath at the magnificent sight that met his eyes. There was no mistake, Bend of the River Plantation was queen of this valley. There were fruit orchards in full bloom, and vegetable and flower gardens that were larger than most farms in Boston. Beyond the orderly barns and stables, was the blacksmith shop and a smokehouse, and beyond that, whitewashed slave quarters. The pastures were so green it was almost painful to the eye. On them, cattle, horses, and sheep grazed in peaceful contentment. As always, dominating the landscape, was the mighty Mississippi, meandering its way through the countryside with complicated twists and turns.
Judah felt a stirring in his heart. Some small part of him recognized this as his heritage. Some part of him wanted to reach out and take what had been offered. No, he thought, Bend of the River did not belong to him. This was Sebastian's domain. Even if he did not like his cousin, he recognized the man's right to inherit this land.
Judah heard someone approach from the pine woods just below, and he turned to see Bandera climbing the hill toward him. Her midnight-colored hair swirled about her face; her pink gown clung to her like a second skin.
Through the thin material, with the sun behind her, Judah could see the outline of her body.
Unconsciously, he took a step toward her, holding out his hand to help her up the last few steps of the hill. She was panting slightly, and his eyes were drawn to the rise and fall of her rounded breasts.
"I was told, by your mother, that I would find you here," she said breathlessly.
"I was walking and found myself on this hill." He made a wide gesture with his hand. "This is magnificent, don't you think?"
Bandera gravitated toward him, her arm brushing against his. "Oui, there can be no place on earth like Bend of the River." She stared at him for a moment before she spoke. "I have heard that your grandfather is considering making you his heir over Sebastian."
"From whom did you hear that?"
"Sebastian."
Judah was aware of her closeness, and his pulse quickened as he stared into her lovely face. "Sebastian must be made aware that I turned down my grandfather's offer."
She placed her hand on his, and raised her face, a gesture that was staged to call attention to her long, white neck. "Why? Surely you cannot turn your back on all this. Why do you not accept it?"
"Have you heard my grandfather's conditions?"
She shook her head. "What conditions?"
"In order to acquire the plantation, I must marry your sister, Liberty."
Bandera's face drained of color, and she shook her head in disbelief. Ever since Bandera could remember, she had coveted the position of mistress to this vast domain. When Sebastian had confessed his fear that his uncle might change his will in favor of Judah, she had been secretly pleased. She wanted to be the bride of this man who fired her blood, but only if Bend of the River was included in the bargain. Now it appeared Gustave Montesquieu had other plans. Hatred and envy burned in her heart. Liberty would never be mistress of Bend of the River—never! And she would never have Judah; Bandera would see to that.
"Do you want to marry my sister?" She held her breath, waiting for his answer.
"Liberty is a child. I cannot see myself as her husband. When I marry, it will not be to a child." Judah was still angry at his grandfather, and it showed in his hard tone.
There was a pout on Bandera's lips, and tears gathered in her eyes. '"Your grandfather has never liked me, and I never knew why."
Without thinking, Judah took her hand in his, wanting to comfort her. Her tears were like a knife in his heart. "If my grandfather thinks ill of you, that is an excellent representation of your fine character as far as I'm concerned."
She smiled slightly. "Are you saying you like me just a little?"
"I believe I am falling in love with you," he confessed, the admission coming as a surprise to him. "I shouldn't have said that," he added, dropping her hand and stepping back a pace. "Forgive my boldness." Bandera was such a lady, that Judah feared he had shocked her with his forwardness.
But she took the step that brought her up against him, and her heart was pounding as she looked into his unusual eyes. For the moment she had forgotten her ambition to rule Bend of the River Plantation. All she could think about was this exciting man who had just admitted his love for her.
She raised her face, and invited his kiss. Judah felt his body tremble as her soft hands slid around his neck. As his lips touched hers, he was momentarily startled when she thrust her tongue into his mouth. Aching to possess her, he pulled her body tightly against his.
Time and space were forgotten as Bandera boldly nipped at his lips with her sharp teeth. It did not occur to him to wonder how she had become so wise in the ways of pleasing a man. He was experiencing love for the first time. To him, Bandera was a pure and sweet angel.
Bandera took his hand, pulling him toward the pine-scented woods. When they reached the cover of the trees, away from prying eyes, she melted against him again.
Raw passion tore at Judah as her hands moved across his chest. Somehow, he could not quite remember how, he found himself lying on the soft green grass, with her body pressed against his.
Passionate gasps ripped from Bandera's lips as Judah pressed her against his body, and she could feel the tight bulge that announced his desire for her.
Bandera felt her blood running hot in her veins. But her lust for power was still greater than her desire. She would do what she must to gain the Montesquieu fortune. For now, she had to use her charms to keep Judah near. She had to keep both men interested in her. That way, no matter which one Gustave Montesquieu decided to make his heir, she would have him in the palm of her hand.
Judah's lips devoured Bandera's and she trembled with excitement. Suddenly she was losing control. This man's body beckoned to her, and she ached for him to thrust his manhood into her. Real tears gathered in her eyes as she arched away from him. If she gave in to him now, all would be lost. Judah must not discover that she was not the coy young maiden she pretended to be. He must not learn that she had given herself to Sebastian many times. Her instinct told her it would be dangerous to play games with Judah as she did with Sebastian.
"No!" she cried, turning away and straightening her gown. "No." She scampered to her feet and turned her face away. Raw passion burned in her heart, but she could not allow it to make her forget her real goal.
Judah, mistaking her refusal for maidenly coyness, felt guilty and remorseful, thinking his overwrought desire frightened someone with her sensitive nature. Pulling his shirt together, he rose to his feet. "There is no excuse for my behavior, Bandera, but I beg you to forgive me. I can only say I was so taken by you that I lost my head."
"I am so ashamed," she said, hiding her face. 'You must believe the worst of me."
"It is I who took advantage of your innocence." Judah walked around her and reached for her hand. "You have my word as a gentleman that this will never happen again. Will you trust me?"
With real tears runn
ing down her cheeks, Bandera walked up the hillside, while he stayed in step with her. "I will always trust you, Judah. I . . . believe I am beginning to feel… affection for you."
His heart took wing, and it was all he could do to keep from shouting his joy to the heavens. "Can I hope that it will turn into love?"
She lowered her lashes, knowing his charm was still pulling at her. "I believe it may be so. But I need time to think. I know there is no future for us if you take your grandfather's offer."
"Come away with me. We will sail the world and visit faraway places with names you have never heard."
For a fraction of a second she was tempted, but as always, her greed took charge. "I cannot live so frivolous a life. I would rather be your wife at Bend of the River."
Judah thought of his grandfather's outrageous offer. How dare he use little Liberty in his devious plans. "Alas, that can never be, Bandera. My grandfather made his terms clear. If I am to inherit Bend of the River, I must marry Liberty. I would not take his offer on any terms."
Bandera's dark eyes were now half-closed, almost slits. Liberty had always had everything. She was the true daughter at Briar Oaks. She was the one who always brought out tenderness in their father. Liberty was not going to have Bend of the River, nor would she have Judah—Bandera would see to that. "Your grandfather chose my sister because he believes her to be of superior breeding. My real father was not of the aristocracy."
Judah felt bitterness in his heart. "Yes, I know what importance my grandfather places on proper breeding. He did not think my father was good enough for his daughter either."
By now Judah and Bandera had reached the hill, and Judah gazed out over the land. "What has me perplexed is why my grandfather now prefers me over Sebastian."
"That is not so hard to guess. Sebastian is headstrong and has a passion for gambling. I am told he is not very good at it, and loses large sums of money. Once, while in New Orleans, Sebastian lost heavily. To pay his debt, he agreed to deed over certain property that would be taken over when he inherited Bend of the River. He offered two hundred acres of prime bottomland. When your grandfather discovered what had happened, he was in a rage for days. He threatened to throw Sebastian out of the house and cut him out of his will. That is when he sent for you. I believe in time Monsieur Montesquieu would have forgiven Sebastian's indiscretion."
Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) Page 12