Suddenly Liberty panicked. Judah would take all she had to give, while thinking she was another woman. He would leave her with nothing, not even her self-respect. With a strangled cry, she tried to move from under him.
"Easy, little one," he said, in a gentle voice. "I would never hurt you."
Liberty stopped her thrashing. Did Judah realize he had called her little one—the name only he and Zippora had used for her. Liberty would have cried out, but he smothered her cry with his mouth. Lost . . . she was lost. Every time he touched her, she melted more into the mattress. Each time his lips took hers, she moaned passionately. His mouth moved down the satiny smoothness of her throat, until he found the valley between her breasts. He planted tiny kisses on each dusky tip, making her body tremble with want and need.
The curly hair on his chest tickled and tantalized her breasts when he clasped her to him. Hot flesh fused to hot flesh. Judah felt a pounding in his head, and he realized it was the beating of his heart. Her nearness was driving him to the brink of madness. He was wild to bury himself deeply inside her once more.
Judah was not gentle as he drove his aching, throbbing shaft into the softness of her body and shuddered with glorious pulsating feelings. This was what he had ached for. This was what his body craved.
The hot invasion into her inner core came unexpectedly, and Liberty bit her lips to keep from crying out. At first Judah did not move, but was content to merely hold her in place. The only sounds were a boat whistle from the Mississippi and the heavy breathing of the two people in the room.
Liberty could feel him imbedded inside her; it was as if she had taken him into herself and he had become a part of her body. Her fingers tightened against his arm as he moved ever so slightly, bringing a moan from him.
"This time it is no dream. It is so right, between us, little one." His shuddering breath teased her ear. "You are right for me. I want no one but you."
Liberty felt delight rush through her body. Oui, she thought in a haze of pleasure, it was so right between them. Judah was not even aware of it, but he had called out to her, not Bandera.
"I have dreamed of you so often," he whispered, his forward thrusts still slow and easy. "In fact there was not a night I didn't dream of you."
His words penetrated her consciousness. "Why?" she needed to know.
"Damned if I know. I believe, that night in old Zippora's cabin, you put a spell on me. Since then I have wanted no one but you."
"I do not understand," she said, stilling his motion by placing her hand on his hip.
A burning ache seared his body, and he wanted to plunge even deeper into her. "I do not understand myself. How could you betray me at one moment, and give me such pleasure in the next? I have given up trying to reason it out."
Liberty was too confused to try to untangle the web of lies that bound her and Judah together. The only thing that mattered at the moment, was that he wanted her. Her hand slid up his back, and she moved her hips just a fraction. He laughed in her ear, and thrust forward until deeply buried in her body. They made love with wild abandonment, conscious only of each other.
Liberty heard Judah call out in a passionate voice. "Little one, little one, you take my breath away." She wasn't at all sure he knew whose body he plundered. Surely he had never called anyone but her by that name.
Amid burning, passionate lovemaking, Liberty and Judah found the paradise that they had once created for themselves, in a small cabin in the swamps. Again and again, he took her body throughout the night—neither wanted to sleep—until at last they lay exhausted in each other's arms.
"I will never forget this night," he said, pulling her head to rest against his chest. She could hear the thundering of his heart, and she curled up contentedly. "Do you love me?" she asked drowsily.
"Love?" he smiled against her cheek. "I do not know what that word means, but I desire you, and that is a far longer-lasting emotion than love."
All emotion had been drained out of him, and he yawned. "So sleepy," he murmured. "I have been tormented for so long . . . now I can sleep."
Liberty felt his grip loosen on her hand, and she knew he had fallen asleep. After waiting a few moments, she carefully eased off the bed. As she dressed, she feared Judah would awaken. She quickly replaced her mask and put on the wig; then she picked up Judah's cape and pulled it about her shoulders. Silently she crossed to the door.
Once out of Judah's room, she breathed a sigh of relief. When she reached the public room, she took money out of her drawstring bag and pressed it into the landlord's hand, asking him to find her a conveyance to take her to the waterfront.
Liberty thought the passenger boat would never arrive at Briar Oaks. It was almost sunup when she stepped ashore. As soon as the passenger boat was out of sight, she climbed into her own small boat and paddled toward the swamps.
In the half-darkness, hopelessness weighed heavily on Liberty's small shoulders. She had to see Zippora. Perhaps her friend would help her understand why she had given herself to Judah again tonight.
14
Judah awoke with the lingering scent of some haunting fragrance filling his senses and invoking bittersweet memories. Reaching out his hand in search of the soft warm body that had brought him so much delight, he found he was in bed alone. A quick glance about the room told him that she had gone.
Throwing the covers aside, Judah felt a great sense of loss. Had last night been just another dream? His eyes caught sight of something in the fold of the covers, and he picked up the red ribbon that had been torn from her gown. No, last night had not been a dream. Today Judah's body felt revived, and his spirits soared. Somewhere in the back of his mind he experienced a certain distaste in knowing that someone like Bandera should be the one woman who made him feel so alive, yet he now realized he could never use her to hurt Sebastian. He would have to find another way to get at his cousin.
Judah tried to push the preceding night to the back of his mind because he had important matters to attend to. He would ask Etienne to take him to the headquarters of Andrew Jackson in the afternoon. His country was at war, and he had decided to aid her defense. His vendetta with Sebastian would have to wait. There was a great possibility that he might be recognized and arrested, but that was a chance he would have to take.
Etienne instructed the driver of the carriage to take them to 106 Royal Street. It was a crisp, cold morning, and Judah could feel the tension in the air. This was not the New Orleans he remembered. Absent was the sound of children's laughter, and no servants plodded the streets, shopping for their masters' tables. Even the birds seemed silent. Judah fastened the brass button on his green velvet cutaway, as he smiled at his friend.
"What news of the war, Etienne?"
Etienne, looking every bit the dashing young naval officer, glanced speculatively toward the east. "The situation looks very grave, Judah. General Jackson received word today that the British fleet are in a position that suggests they will soon be landing."
"How near are they?"
"Within nine miles of striking distance."
The buggy came to a halt, so the two men stepped down. Etienne hastily shook Judah's hand and then climbed back into the buggy. "I will not be coming in with you. General Jackson has asked to see you alone."
After Etienne disappeared, Judah turned to the door, where a sentry stood at attention. The man obviously had been told to expect Judah, because he opened the door and stepped aside, allowing him admittance to the house.
The only occupant of the room Judah entered was one of Jackson's Tennessee Regulars. He was dressed in rough buckskin, his hat pulled down over his eyes, and the man appeared to be asleep, but Judah had the feeling that he was alert to everything that was going on around him and would come to full attention if the situation called for it
Suddenly the door opened, and a man entered who could be none other than Andrew Jackson himself. His rough-hewn face was accented by a thick crop of white hair. His legs were long and gangly, hi
s body lean and wiry. Bushy eyebrows sagged over his blue eyes in which there was a troubled look. For a moment he silently studied Judah with an intense stare. Then a slight smile curved his generous mouth. "I once met your father. I was trying to see if you resemble him . . . and you do."
"So my mother used to tell me, sir. I never knew my father."
Jackson waved Judah into a chair and then seated himself behind the desk. "Yes, that is a tragedy. I understand your father was set upon by the Barbary pirates, and still managed to save his ship before he died."
"Yes, sir."
"That is a matter I wish to talk to you about at a later date. For now, I am told you might be willing to help your country in her hour of need."
"I would gladly do anything I can, sir. But I believe you are already aware that I am considered a fugitive from justice here in New Orleans."
"Etienne filled me in on your problem." Jackson laced his long fingers together, his eyes looking deep into Judah's. "Etienne believes in your innocence, and I trust his judgment, so I am willing to offer you a deal. Are you interested?"
Judah could see the dark circles under Jackson's eyes, and he knew this man now had the weight of the war on his shoulders. "Will your proposition also include my men, sir?"
"Yes, that's understood. Do you want to hear my proposal?"
"I would be very interested, sir."
"I will make you the same offer I made to Jean Lafitte. If you and your men will help me defend this city, I will see that you get a full pardon for any past misdeeds."
Judah was thoughtful for a moment. "That is a very tempting offer, sir. Are you sure I should be pardoned?"
"Yes, I believe so. I will never be convinced that the son of Daniel Slaughter could have committed a very serious infraction."
Judah looked into humorous blue eyes. "I fear I committed the serious infraction of being a fool. I allowed a woman to become too important to me. I should have been on guard, but her beauty blinded me."
Jackson chuckled. "Ah, yes the fair sex. I notice you do not proclaim your innocence."
"Would you believe me if I told you I had been falsely accused?"
Again Jackson looked into his eyes. "Yes, I believe I would. But as I told you, Etienne believes you innocent, and that is good enough for me."
Judah noticed that the man who had been dozing in the corner stood up and quietly ambled out of the room. Jackson nodded in the man's direction. "Since arriving in this city, I have been amazed at the men who have volunteered to fight. I have French blue bloods, Spanish noblemen, free blacks, and even Indians. I am proud to have them all, but give me two hundred Tennesseans like that one, and I'll whip the tail off the British."
"Sir, I stand ready to help you in any way I can. I put my ship, my men, and my life at your disposal. You have only to tell me what to do."
The commander smiled. "I'll take your men and your ship, but I want you to keep your life. Report to Etienne, and he will tell you what to do."
Judah was tall, but when he stood up, he came eye to eye with Andrew Jackson. For a moment Jackson's face whitened and he clutched at his heart.
"Sir, are you ill? Can I help," Judah asked with concern.
Jackson waved him aside. "It is nothing. Few people know this, but I have three bullets in me that could not be removed. Sometimes they cause me pain. For the most part I try to ignore them. Sometimes I cannot."
Judah helped Jackson into a chair and poured him a glass of water from the pitcher on the desk. "Why cannot the bullets be removed, sir?"
Jackson took a sip of water, and some of the color returned to his cheeks. "One of them is too near my heart. But you did not come here today to talk about my health. I have been forced to place New Orleans under martial law. That gives me the authority to free you of all charges lodged against you. Of course, you will want to clear your name later on. I assume you can do that?" "Yes, sir, I believe so."
"Fine." He reached for paper and quill and began to write. When he had finished, he pushed the document at Judah. "Your paper to freedom! No one will question this. For the time being you will consider yourself an unofficial officer in the United States Navy, Captain Slaughter.
"Thank you, sir. I am proud to serve you."
"Good, good. But you do not serve me, son. Like your father before you, you serve your country." Already the general's attention was turning to the maps that were laid out on his desk. Judah realized that he was in the presence of a great man, and he had very little doubt that this man could easily defeat America's enemies.
Liberty stood on the banks of the river, caught up in the beauty of the night. The moon cast a silvery path across the Mississippi, disguising its usual mud color. Beneath the clear sky, the temperature had dropped, and there was a bone-chilling iciness in the air. She was just returning from the slave quarters, where she had tended a child with the croup, and she could not resist the beauty of her river. She had been trying to keep busy so she wouldn't think too much about the night she had spent with Judah Slaughter. She wasn't very proud of the fact that Judah had so easily lured her into his bed.
She sighed, wondering where Judah was at that moment. She had told no one but Zippora that Judah had returned, and she wondered what Sebastian and Bandera would do if they learned he was back.
Liberty gazed toward the house. Lights streamed out of the drawing-room windows, and she knew the family would be gathered about the huge fireplace, waiting for dinner to be served. She was not in the mood to listen to Sebastian's mother complain about being forced to live on the charity of others, nor to Bandera bemoaning the fact that there was no money for a new gown, while Sebastian sipped brandy and made suggestive innuendoes and inane remarks. Liberty decided that if she went to the back of the house, she could slip upstairs and not have to face any of them tonight.
She shouldered her heavy medicine bag, but her footsteps lagged. She was weary because everything was falling on her shoulders, and she had no help from Sebastian. His favorite remark was that a gentleman did not dirty his hands with menial labor.
Since it was winter, the fields lay waiting for spring planting. Still, there was plenty of work to keep her busy. There were hogs to be slaughtered, meat to be cured, food to be preserved and dried. She was nurse, confessor, and peacemaker for everyone on Briar Oaks. She had to see that all were properly clothed and had plenty to eat. There had been a time when her mother had filled the role of mistress at Briar Oaks. Now that, too, fell to Liberty.
When Liberty entered the bright, cheery kitchen, Oralee met her with a stern look on her face. "Have I not warned you not to stay out in the damp night air, ma petite? You will become ill, and then where would the rest of us be?"
Liberty smiled at Oralee, her only friend in an otherwise hostile environment. She knew this servant was the only one who really cared about what happened to her. Handing Oralee her medicine bag, Liberty removed her damp cape and hung it on a peg.
"It looks like Matty's daughter has a bad case of the croup, Oralee. After I put her head over steaming water and gave her honey and vinegar, she seemed to calm down."
"I have a tub of hot water waiting for you in your bedroom ... or it was hot, probably cold by now," Oralee stated, taking Liberty by the shoulders and pointing her toward the back stairs. "You have time for a quick bath before dinner is served."
Obediently Liberty climbed the stairs, wishing she did not have to come back down to dine with the family.
Liberty was preoccupied at dinner and hardly noticed the usual bickering that took place around the table, until Bandera spoke directly to her.
"Liberty did you hear me?"
"I . . . no, my mind was wandering, Bandera. What did you say?"
"I was telling you how demeaning it was today when the Dulongs called at tea time and I had only that old china tea set. You are stripping this house to the bone, selling off all that is valuable. Our neighbors are very aware that we are paupers. I will never be able to hold my head up if you do n
ot stop selling off everything."
"I am not so worried about you holding your head up as I am about feeding you, Bandera. You would be hard pressed to hold your head up if you were starving. I am forced to sell everything but the bare necessities so that will not be the case."
"I think it is a disgrace," Alicia expressed her view, and in a rare moment agreed with her daughter-in-law. "I have never before been forced to redo one of my old gowns so I could have something suitable to wear. Poor Sebastian's shirts are frayed, and he hasn't had a new coat in months."
Liberty wished herself anywhere but where she was. She doubted that the three of them understood how desperate their situation had become. If she didn't have money for this year's crops, they would all have to find another place to live, because the moneylenders would own Briar Oaks. "I have nothing to spare on clothing. All the money we have must be used for seed and a new plow."
"Not all," Alicia said, smiling, "last week I found where you keep the household money in your desk, and I gave it to Sebastian. He had more need of it than the rest of us. A gentleman should never be without money."
Bandera quickly glanced at her husband. "It isn't fair that you had money while I am forced to wear these old rags, Sebastian. It wasn't your money."
Liberty felt her calm slipping. "How much of the money did you take, Alicia?"
"Well ... all of it, but there wasn't that much."
Liberty was angry, knowing that was all the money she had to buy the seed and tools necessary for the spring crops. She stood up slowly, holding her hand out to Sebastian. "Give me the money."
He smiled and leaned back in his chair, poking his hands in his pockets. "I no longer have it."
"Where is it?"
"I made a bad wager and lost it all," he said flippantly.
Liberty sank down onto her chair, feeling desperate and alone. "You don't realize what you have done, Sebastian. That was all the money I had."
Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) Page 23