Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) (11 page)

"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, re
signing 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 chande
liers 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 mas
querade 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 dis
mount 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 disap
pointed,
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 ab
sent-mindedly across the river. "I would think this is a
fisherman's paradise. Rarely have I seen such an abun
dance 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 Ban
dera'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 conde
scending. 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 advanta
geous 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?