Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance)

by Constance O'Banyon

  Liberty saw something in Sebastian's eyes that she had never seen before, and it frightened her. He was dangerous and would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Relief washed over Liberty when the door opened and Bandera entered.

  "What's going on here?" A smile curled her lips. "A midnight tete a tete?"

  Sebastian turned burning eyes on his wife. "For your information, your sister just accused you of being a harlot."

  Bandera smiled in amusement. "And you were going to defend my honor, Sebastian? How wonderfully gallant of you." She looked at Liberty. "My sister always had an eye for the truth, but then I have never tried to hide anything from her or you, Sebastian. Do we understand one another?"

  "I don't know what you mean," Sebastian said, turning his anger on his wife.

  "Don't you? I am aware that you covet my sister, but you can never have her, and you can't stand that, can you, Sebastian?"

  "Go to hell, Bandera."

  "I have been in hell since the day I married you. You are nothing, Sebastian. You promised me the world, and now you live off my sister's charity. I could have married anyone I wanted —I must have been touched in the head to have chosen you."

  Silently Liberty slipped out of the room. Sebastian and Bandera had forgotten about her, and she knew they would rage at each other for hours. As she made her way up the stairs, her footsteps lightened. She could imagine the happiness Judah was feeling at being reunited with his family. She also wondered what her sister and Sebastian would do when Judah came to Briar Oaks the following day.

  15

  The sun came up, spreading its light like a warm blanket over the valley. Liberty had been busy since sunup, supervising the storing of meat in the smokehouse. As the last of the ham hocks was hung from the ceiling, she stepped outside and breathed in the crisp, clean air.

  Automatically, she turned toward Bend of the River Plantation. Judah had told her he would see her on this day and she knew he would come. What would he do when he faced Sebastian? she wondered. Judah had every right to demand satisfaction, yet his love for Bandera might keep him from harming Sebastian. Liberty had never been able to understand what a man like Judah could see in Bandera. Didn't he know that she would never care for anyone but herself?

  Liberty's eyes moved toward the swamps, and she became aware of the ominous silence. Something strange was definitely in the air. There were rumors that the British were moving ever closer. Soon they would all be caught up in a war. She turned to Delton, the slave who had been her father's right hand, and on whom she had come to depend so heavily.

  "Delton, put a padlock on the smokehouse and have the stock driven into the pens. Should the enemy come, we don't want to feed them."

  "I have already had the cattle and horses brought in, Mam'zelle. HI have someone put a lock on the smokehouse at once."

  Liberty pulled her shawl about her, and smiled. "I don't know what I would do without you, Delton. Thank you for all your help."

  The black man grinned at her praise. "I will always serve Briar Oaks, Mam'zelle. This was my father's home, as it is mine and my sons."

  "I know that, Delton, and I have been meaning to speak to you about something. I don't have to tell you that we have fallen on hard times. I just want you to know, that no matter how difficult times become, you will never be sold to anyone else. You are a part of this land. Should I be forced to sell, I will give you and your family your freedom."

  Delton's dark eyes misted, and it took him a moment to reply. "Mam'zelle, we are all going to work hard so we can keep our home."

  Liberty turned away, reluctant to tell Delton that there was no hope of saving Briar Oaks since Sebastian had squandered the money she had been saving for seeds. Liberty had considered asking Monsieur Montesquieu for a loan, but her pride wouldn't let her. No, her father would not approve of her taking advantage of friends and neighbors. In her estimation, she might be able to keep Briar Oaks for four or five more months, a year at the most.

  Nightfall found Liberty and Bandera alone in the sitting room. Sebastian had announced at noon that he was going into New Orleans, and Alicia had taken to her bed with one of her headaches.

  Liberty was going over and over the ledger, hoping she had made a mistake in the addition, while Bandera moved restlessly around the room, examining every detail, as if seeing it for the first time. At last Bandera seated herself on the sofa and leaned her head back.

  "I could die of boredom. Men are the fortunate ones. Look at Sebastian, he just takes off any time he wants to, and no one ever faults him for it. If I were to do the same, people would say terrible things about me."

  Liberty put her bookwork aside. "I have never known you to care overmuch what people said about you, with the exception of never wanting to be accused of being poor."

  "That's right. If you are wealthy, people will forgive you anything. I don't really care all that much about respect—I just want people to envy what I have. Unlike me, Sebastian seems to want respect, too."

  "I would respect your husband more if he were to do an honest day's work, or at least join the men who are trying to defend our country."

  "My, my, you have become quite a little American since you met Judah Slaughter, haven't you, Liberty?"

  "I am an American because Papa convinced me that eventual statehood would be in our best interest. Surely Sebastian can see this. He must want to defend his homeland against the British."

  "Ha, not Sebastian. He doesn't believe in the war, and to put it simply, he is a pleasure seeker. I am bored to tears with him. I cannot stand for him even to touch me."

  Liberty watched her sister pop a chocolate in her mouth, a habit she had picked up from Alicia. She noticed for the first time that her sister was becoming plump. "You married Sebastian; you should have known what he was like."

  "Oui, we all make mistakes. Sebastian was my biggest mistake."

  Liberty glanced at the wall clock. It was late and Judah still hadn't yet come. Perhaps he won't come tonight, she told herself, almost with relief. Liberty had not looked forward to the prospect of watching Judah and Bandera together.

  As Liberty rose to her feet, thinking she would go to bed and hopefully lose herself in sleep, she heard a horse whinny at the front of the house. Her heart skipped a beat when a loud rap came at the front door and she heard Judah speak to Oralee.

  "I wonder who could be calling so late?" Bandera said, smoothing her hair and pinching her cheeks to give them color.

  Liberty stood as though turned to stone when Oralee showed Judah into the room, but she was aware of her sister's gasp of fear. Bandera jumped to her feet, as her face whitened. For a long moment Judah stared at Bandera, not once taking his eyes off her.

  Even from across the room, his turquoise eyes glittered. The force of him, the power and the strength, were almost overwhelming. Liberty noticed how his green jacket was stretched tightly across his broad shoulders. His buff-colored riding trousers smoothly fit his long, lean legs, and his black boots held a lightly glossed shine.

  Liberty felt shaken, knowing that in the next few moments her deceit might well be exposed, but Judah leaned casually against the door and smiled at Bandera— a smile that did not reach his eyes.

  "Good evening, ladies. I trust you are both in good health?"

  "I ... we ... Sebastian isn't at home," Bandera blurted out, moving closer to her sister.

  "I know," Judah answered, staring at the woman whom he had worshiped for so long. Bandera was still beautiful, but not as beautiful as he'd remembered. The pink gown she wore was too young for her, and it fit too snugly across her breasts. Her eyes, though frightened at the moment, were lusterless. She smiled at him coquettishly, knowing such behavior had once attracted him.

  Now his eyes were cold. "I know your husband is in New Orleans, Bandera. Oralee told me."

  Bandera clutched Liberty's hand, and found it to be ice cold. "I . . . why have you come, Judah?" she asked in a shaky voice.

  "Do not dist
ress yourself, Madame. I want nothing more than to talk to you and your sister." At last his eyes moved to Liberty, who had not yet spoken. "I do have a purpose in mind which I would like to discuss with you."

  For some reason Judah had been almost afraid to look at Liberty. A simple gown of slate blue outlined her slender form, and glorious golden hair formed a wreath around her lovely face and fell down her shoulders to her waist. Gone were the braids and the freckles. Gone was the uncertainty in her wonderful eyes. There was no evidence of the young girl she had been. He now saw only the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. No woman had a right to be so perfect. Her skin was creamy in the candlelight, and Liberty stood inches above her sister, her height giving her an aura of unconscious elegance.

  A tide of feelings rushed through Judah like a raging flood. In the moment that their eyes locked, he knew without a doubt that Liberty was his love. He prayed that hers had been the hand that had soothed him when he had been wounded. It had to have been her body that had taken him to the heights of paradise. It must have been her, and not Bandera, whom he had taken to his room at the inn on Saturday night.

  Judah stared at Liberty so long and hard that she began to squirm beneath his close scrutiny. "Hello, Judah," she said to break the tension. "Won't you please be seated? Would you like a cup of tea, or perhaps something stronger?"

  "Not at the moment. Could we talk?"

  "Of course," Liberty replied, motioning him toward a chair. He moved across the room with animal-like grace, while Bandera watched him with frightened eyes. When Liberty sat down, Bandera moved as close to her as she could without sitting in her lap.

  "I am glad you have returned, Judah. I trust you found your mother and grandfather in good health?" Liberty felt a chill around her heart. She wondered if Judah wished she would leave the room so he could be alone with Bandera.

  He smiled slightly. "I found them well and they praised you highly, Liberty. It seems you have looked in on them and have taken care of them while I have been away. My mother has taken you to her heart."

  "Your mother is most gracious, Judah."

  Who is this woman who is so cold and distant? Judah wondered in desperation. Now and then he caught a glimpse of his little one—a certain gesture, a look that would come in her eyes, or the proud tilt of her chin. Judah was feeling so much raw emotion that his hands trembled, and he crammed them into his pockets so Liberty wouldn't notice.

  Bandera began to relax when she noticed that Judah directed no malice in her direction. Actually he hardly noticed her. In vexation, she asked the question that was uppermost on her mind. "Should you not have a. care for your safety, Judah?"

  He swung his gaze to Bandera. "Did your sister not tell you that I am no longer wanted by the authorities?"

  "No." Bandera gave Liberty a hard glance. "She didn't. But that is not surprising. Liberty has always been closed-mouthed about everything." There was accusation in Bandera's biting tone.

  "For several reasons I came here tonight," Judah said, glancing from one sister to the other. He hoped his suspicions were correct and it had been Liberty in Zippora's cabin. He would soon know which sister had been with him Saturday night. He hardly breathed as his eyes locked with Bandera's. "I have come for my cloak," he said softly.

  Bandera looked bemused for a moment. "Can you be talking to me?"

  "Yes, if you are the one who has my cloak."

  Liberty wanted to bolt into the night, to flee anywhere to escape what was coming. Soon Judah would know that it was she and not Bandera who had given him her body. She couldn't bear the thought of his looking at her with loathing.

  Bandera shook her head. "I don't know what you're asking me. Did you leave a cloak with me before you went away? No, you didn't —I would have remembered that."

  Judah felt the flood pumping through his body. So far so good, he thought. "It is a black velvet cape, Bandera. I wore it to the masquerade ball Saturday."

  "I did not go to the masquerade ball. You have mistaken me for someone else. What would I want with your cape?" Bandera looked at him questioningly.

  Judah felt his heart lighten. He dared not look at Liberty, not until he asked a few more questions which Bandera seemed unwittingly able to answer. "Have you been to Zippora's cabin lately, Bandera?" He tried to act casual, though he felt anything but.

  "Are you mad, Monsieur?" Bandera was beginning to wonder if Judah had lost his mind. "I have never been to Zippora's cabin. That old woman hates me, and I am terrified of her. She dotes on my sister, however."

  Judah remembered Zippora telling him that she disliked Bandera but would do anything for Liberty. Why had he never considered Zippora's meaning before? Judah's eyes moved to Liberty, and he saw a tear roll down her cheek. He wanted to take her in his arms and assure her that everything was going to be all right. His heart was overflowing with tender feelings, his lips ached to confess his love. He took a deep breath and stood up. "Liberty, is there any hope that you might have my cloak?"

  Liberty tried to look away from him, but he held her gaze. She had the feeling that she had just been stripped naked. How cleverly Judah had found out what he needed to know. Shame weighed heavily on her shoulders as she slowly rose to her feet. Unable to look into his eyes, she murmured hurriedly. "I have your cloak in my room. I'll just go and get it for you now."

  Judah's eyes followed Liberty as she moved with controlled grace across the room. "Tell me about her?" he asked, without looking at Bandera.

  "Tell you about who? Liberty?"

  "Yes."

  "What do you want to know?

  "Does she have many suitors? Is she committed to someone?"

  "I suppose there are several gentlemen who admire her kind of prettiness. There are some I can think of who would like to have Liberty committed to them. Why do you want to know?"

  "My mother says Liberty is having a hard time holding Briar Oaks together. She says Liberty is too proud to ask for help."

  "Well, we don't like to talk about it, but times have been better. What about me, Judah?" Bandera allowed her eyes to move over his tall frame. If anything, he was even more handsome than when he had left. There was an arrogance about him, a light of indifference in his turquoise eyes. "Did your mother tell you how hard my life has been since your grandfather threw Sebastian out of his house."

  His lips thinned. "No, she didn't mention it to me. Surely you do not expect my sympathy? I have a very long memory, Bandera."

  "Oh, that. Sebastian and I were just playing a game. Everyone took it far too seriously."

  "Have done, Bandera. I didn't come here tonight to talk about you or Sebastian. I want you to leave when Liberty comes back. I have something I want to say to her."

  "Surely you don't expect me to leave her alone in your company?" Bandera's eyes grew round with speculation. "How did she come by your cloak anyway—and why would you think I had it?"

  "Forget about the cloak. You need have no worry about leaving your sister with me, Bandera. I can assure you my intentions are very honorable. I intend to ask her to marry me."

  Bandera jumped to her feet. "If you think I am going to stand by and watch my sister become mistress of Bend of the River you are much mistaken, Judah. I will not have it, do you hear me? I will not have it!"

  Judah looked at her lazily. "I don't see that you have any choice, Bandera. If Liberty will have me, I will most certainly make her my wife. As far as her becoming mistress of Bend of the River, that is another matter. Bend of the River belongs to my grandfather to dispose of as he chooses."

  "Is this your way of getting back at me, Judah?"

  A smile curved his lips. "I had thought of a hundred ways to make you suffer for what you did to me, but I find the hell you have made for yourself by marrying my cousin is far worse than anything I could have planned for you."

  "She won't have you." Bandera's voice was rising in volume. "Perhaps you have heard that Liberty is called the 'ice princess.' No man can get close to her."<
br />
  Judah merely stared at Bandera. It had been no ice princess that had thrilled him with the mere touch of her hand.

  Bandera got up the courage to move over and sit beside Judah. "My sister isn't warm-blooded like me. I remember a time when you liked me a great deal."

  He reached out and caught her face between his hands. "Yes, I once thought I saw something in you that was rare and lovely. I found I was mistaken."

  Bandera stared into his eyes, wishing she had been the woman he had imagined her to be. If she had married Judah, she would not have been bored. "I know why you are doing this," she whispered. "I remember that your grandfather once told you that you could only inherit Ben3 of the River if you married Liberty. You want Bend of the River, and that's the only way you can get it!"

  Judah smiled down at her. "If it will make you feel happy to believe that, I will not try to change your mind."

  Liberty stood in the doorway with Judah's back velvet cloak draped over her arm. She felt an ache in her heart at seeing Bandera in Judah's arms. She resisted the urge to turn away and seek the comfort of her room.

  Her legs were stiff as she forced one foot in front of the other. "Here is your cloak, Judah," she said, advancing into the room.

  Judah released Bandera and came to his feet. "I would like a private word with you, Liberty." His eyes went back to Bandera. "I am sure your sister will leave us alone."

  Liberty shoved the cloak at Judah. She had no wish to be left alone with him. She knew he would question her about the night of the masquerade ball. Her shame was great enough without having to admit it to him.

  "The hour is late, and I am going to bed," she said, turning on her heel, but he was too quick for her. He rushed forward and caught her by the arm.

  "No, Liberty, you will stay, and your sister will go to bed."

  "Judah"—her eyes were begging him for mercy—"I know what you want to ask, and I don't want to talk about it."

  His eyes looked deeply into hers. "Do you know what I want to say, little one? I doubt that you do." Judah looked over Liberty's shoulder and watched Bandera silently leave the room, her face a mask of fury.