He shrugged his shoulders. "I have every confidence you will find some other treasure to sell."
"It isn't fair, Liberty," Bandera stated angrily. "Sebastian had no right to the money. Why didn't you give it to me?"
Liberty stood up and left the room. She had to get away before she said something she would regret. She could feel Briar Oaks slipping away from her. There seemed no way to hold on to it now.
She left the house and quickly made her way toward the river. What was she going to do? That money had been her last hope of saving her father's home. She made her way to the pier and walked out on the wooden planks to the very end. Her mind was troubled as she spoke aloud. "I am sorry, Papa. I have done everything I can to save Briar Oaks, but I fear it was not enough."
Liberty was startled by the sound of footsteps on the wooden pier. She turned around, expecting to see Sebastian, but her heart skipped a beat. Even though it was dark, she recognized Judah's long stride. No one walked the way he did, as if he were on the rolling deck of a ship. She felt cornered, and wondered if he had learned of her deception and had come to confront her. There was nowhere to run because he blocked her only escape. All she could do was wait for him to approach.
Judah had just ridden up to the house when he saw a woman running toward the river. From the distance, he thought it was Bandera, and he blessed his good fortune in finding her alone. He had come here tonight ready to face Sebastian but had been secretly hoping to see Bandera alone.
As he neared, her face was in shadow, but he smelled the familiar sweet scent that he had begun to associate with her since that night in Zippora's cabin. "I was surprised to find you living at Briar Oaks, Bandera. I thought you and Sebastian would be well settled in Bend of the River by now."
"You have me confused with someone else," Liberty answered, knowing she would never again pretend to be her sister. "I am not Bandera."
Judah reached out and tilted her face up to the moonlight. When his eyes moved over the beautiful, unfamiliar features, he dropped his hand and stepped back. "I am sorry. Please forgive me, Mademoiselle. It was my mistake. Forgive the intrusion—I will leave now." Yet he was reluctant to go, because there was something familiar about this startlingly beautiful woman. His eyes fastened on her features, and he shook his head in confusion.
"Do I know you?" Even in the half-darkness, he could tell she was the loveliest creature he had ever seen.
"You once did, Monsieur Slaughter. I do not believe you know me at all now."
"Are you someone I met at a party or a ball?"
Liberty felt pain in her heart. He had forgotten all about her, while there had not been a day that she did not think of him. "Oui. I first met you at a ball."
"I see," he said in a puzzled voice. "You must be one of Bandera's friends. I am sorry, but I do not recall your name."
Liberty turned her back to him and stared out on the river. It hurt to know that Judah looked at her with the eyes of a stranger. Were the gods angry with her that they tormented her so? "I am no one of importance, Monsieur. You do not know me very well."
At that moment Oralee's voice could be heard, calling from the path that led to the house. "Liberty, I know you are out here. I have brought your cloak. I have told you and told you that this night air will be the death of you."
"Good night, Monsieur," Liberty said as she turned to step around Judah. "I am just coming in, Oralee. I won't be needing the cloak."
By now Oralee was at the pier and could see that a gentleman was with Liberty. "Do you want me to wait for you, ma, petite?" she asked.
Judah stared at Liberty in disbelief. No, this woman could not be his little one. Liberty was just a child. What cruel game was this?
As Liberty moved toward Oralee, Judah rushed after her, too bemused to speak. When Liberty took the cape and pulled it around her shoulders, she spoke to him. "You see, we did first meet at a ball if you will remember, Monsieur"
Oralee walked away, shaking her head and mumbling about how some people didn't have sense enough to come in out of the cold.
"Liberty," Judah said, finally finding his voice, "you were not supposed to grow up." He searched for the freckle-faced little girl in this lovely vision. "This isn't fair," he said, too stunned to comprehend the nagging feeling that haunted him.
"Many things are not fair, Judah. You should know that by now."
"I . . . how are you?" he stammered like a schoolboy.
"I have been better, but no matter. Should you be here? Are you not afraid the authorities will find you?"
"I have been cleared of all charges," he said, still in a quandary. "Are you cold?" he asked, as she shivered. He stepped closer to Liberty, but stopped short of touching her.
"No, I am not cold. What do you mean, Judah? Are you no longer a hunted man?"
"Thanks to Andrew Jackson, who believed in my innocence, I am no longer a fugitive."
"I do not understand."
"It is not important. I want to hear all about you. What have you been doing? Are your mother and father well? How is Zippora?"
"Zippora is well." She took a deep swallow. "My mother and father are ... no longer living. I received word of their deaths the day you left New Orleans."
He reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Poor little one. I am grieved by your sorrow. It seems we have both lost our families."
She drew back and his hand fell away. "What do you mean we have both lost our families? I know your father is dead, but surely you know . . . you must have been told that . . . have you not heard about your mother and grandfather?"
"Yes, and there is not a day that goes by that I do not curse Sebastian for their deaths."
Liberty frantically reached for Judah. "No, you do not understand, Judah. Your mother and grandfather are not dead! They have been frantic for some word of you; they feared you were dead."
"What are you saying?" he asked brokenly, trying to deal with his rampaging emotions. He dared not hope that he had heard her correctly.
"Judah, your mother and grandfather are alive. Do you hear me? They are alive!"
He glanced up at the moon, trying to deal with all that had hit him in the last few moments. "You would not say it if it weren't true, would you, Liberty?"
"I can assure you I would not, Judah. You must go to them at once so they will know that you are unharmed. Your mother has been beside herself because they received no word . . . but of course you wouldn't have written them if you thought they were dead."
"I don't understand any of this. I thought they were burned in the fire."
"Moses saved them and took them into New Orleans. Your grandfather needed a doctor, and he thought that would be the best thing to do. It wasn't until weeks later that your grandfather let anyone know that he and your mother survived the fire."
Judah felt joy rush through him. "I can hardly credit what you have told me, Liberty. I believe God has given me another chance at life. It is like a miracle."
Liberty felt tears in her eyes as Judah's happiness touched her heart. "I believe in miracles, Judah. In fact, I hope God has a few miracles in store for me."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. You do not have time to stand here talking with me. Go to your mother."
Judah reached for her hand. "So I shall, little one. But I will be back tomorrow. I have some unfinished business here. I am beginning to suspect that . . . but never mind. We will talk tomorrow."
Liberty wondered what Sebastian's reaction would be when he heard that Judah had returned. She didn't know why Judah was now allowed to walk around a free man, but she felt happiness for him. "Oui, I know you have unfinished business here. I always knew you would come back. I just did not know when."
He took her hand and briefly held it to his lips before releasing it. "Until tomorrow, little one."
"Until tomorrow," she said, as she watched him turn away to be swallowed up by the darkness.
Liberty brushed the tears away, knowing she
would always love Judah but also knowing that most of Judah's unfinished business concerned Bandera. If he loved her sister in the same burning way Liberty loved him, then she pitied him. Bandera would never live up to the picture of her he had created in his mind. Judah knew Bandera had betrayed him, and still he wanted her.
Liberty now felt the chill of the night and hurried toward the house. The tally books needed her attention. She had no time for self-pity. Her heart felt bruised and bleeding, but she was a survivor.
Judah mounted his horse and rode in the direction of Bend of the River. His mind was in a whirl. Too many things had happened at once. His mother was alive! Judah had grieved for her, death, and now he would be able to see her!
What strange little quirks a man's life took, he thought. His eyes had been opened in many ways in the past few moments. He had been unable to see Liberty very clearly tonight, but his heart had known her. He remembered the scent she wore and closed his eyes. He had been such a fool in thinking the woman he wanted was Bandera. A part of him had known all along what his heart was trying to tell him. Bandera had never come to him in Zippora's cabin—it had been Liberty! That was why visions of Liberty always pushed Bandera to the back of his mind. Tomorrow he would come back to Briar Oaks and confirm what he already knew. Why had it taken so long to realize that Liberty was, and always had been, his heart's desire?
Gabrielle and her father were sitting before the big fireplace in quiet companionship. Gustave was covered with a woolen shawl, and would often nod off. Gabrielle was working on a tapestry to replace the one that had been destroyed by the fire.
The house no longer bore the scars left by the fire. Gustave had put his daughter in charge of restoring it to its former glory.
Not a day had gone by that Gabrielle did not wait for some word from her son, but it was as if the earth had swallowed him up without leaving a trace.
Gustave had used his influence in trying to locate Judah. He had engaged a man to go to Boston, but there had been no word of Judah there either. In desperation, Gabrielle had even put her pride aside and had written to Judah's mistress, Adriane Pierce. The response from Adriane had said only that she shared Gabrielle's concern for Judah's disappearance.
Gabrielle glanced at her father and saw he was dozing.
She smiled, thinking how he had come to depend on her. She had never understood him until now. It had come as a shock to her when she had learned that her father had always had a man in Boston looking after her and Judah. It was her father who had arranged for the bank loan so Judah would have the money to get the Winged Victory out of dry dock. Gustave had followed his grandson's life and had been proud of the man Judah had become.
Sebastian was still a source of irritation for Gustave. Both Gabrielle and her father realized the treachery that had been practiced the night Judah had disappeared. It was through Liberty that they had learned the whole story about what had happened that night. Gustave lived for the day his grandson would return, and together they would clear his good name.
Gabrielle pricked her finger with the needle and dropped the tapestry in her lap. She glanced up at the mantel clock and watched the minutes tick away. This house, and everyone in it, was waiting for Judah to return. She and her father never entertained or received guests. The only person they ever saw was Liberty, and she was always welcome, though she was not often able to get away from the demands of Briar Oaks.
Gabrielle had just closed her eyes, thinking she should summon Moses and have him take her father up to bed, when she heard someone rapping at the front door. She stirred, wondering who would be calling at this hour, and knowing, whoever it was, the caller would be turned away on her father's instructions. Again she closed her eyes and tried not to think about how lonely she was. She almost wished the caller would be allowed to come in and visit.
No sound alerted Gabrielle that someone was in the room with them. A feeling did. She opened her eyes and thought she must be hallucinating. "Dear God," she cried, holding out her trembling hand. "Judah, is that you?"
He bent down and gathered his mother in his arms, thanking God that she was alive. "Yes, Mother, it is very definitely me."
"My son, my son,' she cried, burying her face against his shoulder. "You are alive! You have come back to us."
"Huh . . . huh? What's going on, Gabrielle?" her father questioned, trying to gather his thoughts. His eyes focused on his grandson, and he reached forward, his eyes sparkling with happiness. "The lord, be praised," he whispered. "Our boy has come home at last, Gabrielle."
Judah took his grandfather's hand in a strong grasp. "I am even glad to see you, Grandfather. Having thought you dead, I am delighted to see you are still in command."
"I can hold my own with you, if that is what you are worried about, you young pup," the old man said, a genuine smile smoothing the wrinkles about his mouth.
Judah laughed down at his mother. "I don't doubt it, sir. You could hold your own with the devil himself." There was a new respect in Judah's tone as he spoke to his grandfather.
The old man's eyes sparkled with new life and he called out to Moses. "Bring the brandy so we can celebrate. The prodigal son has returned, and I want to kill the fatted calf."
Liberty sat at her father's desk, trying to keep warm. The room was so cold, she gathered up the ledgers and moved to the big red leather chair in front of the fireplace. She could somehow feel her father's presence, and she wished he was there to advise her.
I really have my life in an tangle, Papa, she thought, looking up at the portrait of him she had moved from the library into the study. "I don't see how I can save Briar Oaks, and there are so many people depending on me. Judah is home, and there will be trouble from that direction. I don't know how this will all end with him and Sebastian, Papa. And there is a war on our doorstep. Life is so uncertain. I do so wish you were here. You would know what to do."
The door opened a crack, and Sebastian stuck his head in. "Can I talk to you for a moment, Liberty?"
Liberty was still angry with Sebastian for taking the only money they had and squandering it frivolously. She drew in a breath and then spoke. "It is getting late, but I have a few moments before I go upstairs."
He ambled in, his hands in his pockets, and stood next to the fire. "I have been meaning to speak to you for some time on an important matter. I suppose now is as good a time as any."
As always, Sebastian was looking at her in a most disturbing manner, his eyes often straying down her neck to her breasts. She closed the ledger with a snap, and motioned for him to sit across from her, because she didn't like to have to look up at him. "As I said, I have a few moments."
He cleared his throat, but remained standing. "I think you know by now that one puny little girl cannot save Briar Oaks. You must have realized that it is just a matter of months before it goes on the auction block."
Her ire was tapped. "I know no such thing, Sebastian. If you are worried about losing a place to lay your head, you needn't be concerned. I will keep this roof over you as long as I am able."
He smiled indulgently. "I have a proposal that I believe will help us all. I know a gentleman who is willing to buy Briar Oaks at a reasonable price. We could take the money from the sale and live comfortably in New Orleans for years to come."
Liberty hadn't known it was possible to detest Sebastian more than she already did, but it was. "What do you mean, we, Sebastian?"
"We are a family. Naturally, we will all want to stay together."
Liberty stood up and clutched the ledger, trying to hold on to her temper. "I do not consider you my family, Sebastian. I think of you and your mother as guests in my home, and you have about overstayed your welcome." Anger sparked in her eyes. "Let me say this so there will be no mistake in the future: I will sell no part of Briar Oaks. If the plantation goes down, then I go down with it. I am fighting in every way I know to keep from losing this plantation. Don't ever ask me to sell it again."
Sebastian hardly hea
rd the words Liberty was speaking. He was mesmerized by the spark in her eyes and the rise and fall of her breasts. For years he had wanted her, but she was always cold and remote, like an ice princess. As he watched the firelight play on her golden hair, his restraint broke, and he grabbed her to him.
Liberty was so startled that she dropped the ledger and was frozen into immobility for a moment. "I want you," he said, trying to press her body against his, and running his wet mouth across her face.
Liberty shuddered in disgust, then came to life with a vengeance. She pushed against him and pounded him on his chest. When he laughed down at her, she twisted away and managed to get free. Reaching for the fireplace poker, she held it out in front of her. "If you ever come near me again, I will kill you! I don't like you, Sebastian—I never have. Mark my words, if you ever touch me again, I will throw you out of my house."
His eyes narrowed. "What makes you think you are so high and mighty? You dwell in your tower thinking you are so much better than the rest of us."
"I'm better than you," she proclaimed, taking a step toward the door.
"I know who you want, Liberty, but you will never have Judah Slaughter. He will never come back."
Liberty raised her head and smiled. "You take comfort in that thought, Sebastian, and lull yourself into passiveness. If I were you, I would look over my shoulder. He may be nearer than you think."
Sebastian moved closer and stared at her. "You are the one who is woolgathering, Liberty. Judah is intelligent enough to know he will be arrested the moment he comes back here."
"What are the charges against Judah, Sebastian? Surely you don't think the charge that he was trying to press his attentions on Bandera will stand up. You, and everyone else, knows that no one has to press anything on my sister."
Sebastian took a step toward Liberty. "You bitch. You think yourself a saint, while the rest of us are just mud beneath your feet." Several steps brought Sebastian even with Liberty. "I will be glad to see you fall on your face."
Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) Page 24