Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) (56 page)

"Perhaps."

"I am well aware that you are exceedingly lovely and
had many admirers. If you are trying to make me jealous,
you have succeeded."

"No, Judah, that was not my intention. I do not play games. You have me mixed up with my sister."

He dropped her hand. "If you no longer want to be my wife, that is my misfortune, Liberty. In trying to do the
right thing by you, it seems I did everything wrong. What
do you want of me? Tell me so I might know," he said softly. "What do you want me to be?"

"I have never asked anything of you, Judah. I married
you, knowing you did not love me. Perhaps if you had
been able to marry the woman you loved, you would now
be happy. I just don't know anymore."

Judah stared at her in wonderment. How could she be
so mistaken? How could she not know that he loved her
beyond all reason. He couldn't lose her. He had to make
her love him. "Liberty, we have so much to talk about,
but now is not the time. When we anchor I have to make
sure the Blackburns are put on a ship for Philadelphia, and I want you to go to Bend of the River. As soon as I
am able, I will come to you. Give me a chance to explain
my feelings before you decide anything."

A chill wind ruffled Liberty's hair, and she pulled her shawl tightly about her shoulders. "You will know where to find me if you want to talk, Judah. You have always
known where to find me."

The muscles in his body tensed as she turned and
walked away. Judah wanted to go after her and declare his
love, but instead he listened to her footsteps fade into silence. He raised his head to the dark sky, knowing that
if he couldn't have Liberty, nothing had any meaning for
him. She was his heart—she was his life. The night's
biting chill now reached the very depth of his being. The
sun would not shine so brightly, nor would the birds singly so sweetly when he was without Liberty's smile.

Judah cursed himself for a fool. If he wasn't careful he
would become just like all the weak-minded men he had
always despised, and forever be writing poetry to his ladylove.

When the
Winged Victory
anchored in New Orleans,
Liberty had said good-bye to the Blackburns with little regret. Judah was nowhere to be seen when she boarded
the longboat with Philippe and four other crewmembers.
As it moved swiftly through the current of the Mississippi, Liberty felt as if she had been away for a lifetime. It would be hard to pick up where she had left off.

As the longboat moved past Chalmette where the battle
had taken place between the Americans and the British,
she saw the scars on the land. Trees had been splintered
and the earth had deep gaping holes. Perhaps Chalmette
should stand as a monument to remind man of how destructive his battles were.

Philippe pointed to the battlefield. "We have just about
come full circle,
Madame.
One wonders if we have gained
any knowledge from all this. I wonder, was it worth it?"

"Some will say it was, Philippe. Perhaps this war had to
be fought to make way for peace. I pray it is the last battle that will ever be fought on American soil."

"So do I."

"Will you . . . will Judah be going back to sea?"

Philippe stared at her for a moment. "Didn't he tell you?"

"No, we have hardly had a chance to talk."

Philippe lowered his voice so only Liberty could hear
him. "When you see him again the two of you can work
out your problems."

Liberty smiled. Philippe had become so dear to her;
she would miss him when he left. "I know a ship captain's
life is at sea. I would not be at all surprised if Judah decided to take the Blackburns to Philadelphia himself."

"Look, there is Bend of the River just ahead," Philippe
observed, glad to end the conversation. He wondered why
Judah had not told Liberty his plans.

When the boat was secured to the pier, Philippe helped
Liberty ashore. Already the buggy was making its way
toward the pier to take her to the big house. "The captain sent a man early this morning to tell his mother to expect
you. I have no doubt they have been watching the river for you all morning." He tipped his hat. "I'd best be getting back,
Madame.
The captain told me not to linger."

She reached out her hand. "Will I see you again, Philippe?"

He took her small hand in his. "Not for a long time,
Madame.
I will be sailing within the week."

"I will miss you, my dear, dear friend," she said, fighting tears.

"There is not a one of us that will not miss your sweet
smile,
Madame,"
Philippe declared in a gruff voice that was threaded with emotion. When he released her hand, he quickly hopped into the boat, and Liberty waved to him and the other crewmembers. She couldn't bring
herself to leave until they disappeared around the bend.
Some of her happiest moments had been spent aboard the
Winged Victory.

As the buggy drew to a halt beside Liberty, a smiling
Biff leaped down and loaded her trunks into the back
seat. After he had helped her into the buggy, she arranged her skirt and then glanced at the big house. "Take the side
road, Biff, I will not be stopping off at Bend of the River—I am going home."

"But,
Madame,
I was told to bring you to the house."

"When you get back, you can explain to Monsieur Gustave that I had something important to do—something that would not wait."

"Yes,
Madame"
Biff said obediently.

Bandera was lounging near the fire when Oralee burst into the sitting room. "It's Liberty. She's come home!" the
excited woman declared.

"Liberty is dead, Oralee," Bandera said dully. "I do not
appreciate your jest—it is in the poorest taste."

"It is the truth. I didn't believe it either, but I saw her with my own eyes."

Bandera slowly stood up, not daring to believe that her little sister still lived. She had found, to her surprise, that
she had grieved for weeks when Sebastian had told her
that Liberty had drowned at sea. Now she was afraid to
believe that Liberty was alive, lest it be a mistake. "Show
me my sister, Oralee. When I see her face, then I will know she is alive."

As Liberty got out of the buggy and slowly walked up
the steps, a heavy loneliness descended on her, and she
couldn't shake it—not even when Oralee came bursting
out of the door and grabbed her in a tight hug. "We was
told you were dead,
ma chere,"
she cried, forgetting to be
formal. "Praise the good Lord, you are alive!"

Liberty looked past Oralee to the ghost-white face of
her sister.
"Oui,
I am alive." She moved past Oralee and
stood before Bandera. "What? No regrets at seeing that I
still live, dearest sister?"

Bandera stood as if turned to stone, but for the single
tear that rolled down her cheek. "I cannot believe it. I had
thought myself alone in the world, with no one to care
for me. Now you are home, and you will make everything
all right."

Liberty stared in disbelief at her sister. "You change
your loyalties so quickly, I can never keep up with you. I
suppose I should be grateful that the British have vacated
my house so you and Sebastian will not have me locked in
my room."

"It was wrong of me to side with Sebastian against my
own sister, Liberty. I know that now. I wish there were
some way I could make it up to you. Perhaps your
coming home will give me a chance to make amends for
the way I treated you in the past."

Liberty had never before seen her sister in this mood.
But she had often been fooled into believing Bandera had
changed, only to find that was not the case, so she was
not taken in by this newly found sisterly love. "Where are
your husband and Alicia, Bandera? I have a few things to say to all three of you. If I have you all together, that will
save me the trouble of repeating myself."

"I suppose you haven't heard. Alicia was drowned in the river three days ago. It was the strangest thing. She
never went near the river, because she was deathly afraid
of it. Yet, Sebastian found her floating face down under the pier. He swears it was that old witch, Zippora, who was responsible."

"If Alicia is dead, it is not Zippora's fault. If anyone was a witch, it was Sebastian's mother."

Bandera shook her head. "You have become hard,
Liberty. There was a time when you had charity in your
heart for everyone, hut that no longer seems to be the case."

"I had to become strong to survive, Bandera. Your husband has tried to rid the world of me, but he has failed. Now that I am home, I will expect you and Sebastian to vacate the house."

"I don't blame you. Neither Sebastian nor I deserve any
charity from you. I am sorry to tell you that he has
stripped the house of everything but the barest necessities.
He has even sold all the slaves. Nothing remains but Oralee and a half-empty house."

"No, he could not have sold all the slaves," Liberty said
with a catch in her voice. "I made a promise to Delton
that he and his family would never be sold or separated.
Surely Sebastian would not take it upon himself to sell what belongs to me."

"It was awful," Bandera said, placing a shaky hand to
her brow. "Delton was crying and begging Sebastian not
to break up his family, saying you promised never to separate them."

Liberty had never known such fury. "I'll tell you what
you can do, Bandera, if you are really as penitent as you claim. Find out who purchased Delton and his family and
then tell Sebastian he has until tomorrow morning to get
them back or I will have the authorities throw him in jail.
I will, Bandera, I swear it."

Sebastian chose that moment to come out of the house.
"Well said, Liberty. It gladdens my heart to see that you
are still with us."

It was all Liberty could do to stand there and look at
Sebastian. Her hatred for him was so strong that it almost
choked her. "Did you tell my sister that you had me sold
to a pirate who was going to resell me to the highest bidder in Tripoli?"

Bandera swung around to face her husband. "No, he
did not tell me that. He said that you and Judah had been
lost at sea."

"Tell my sister the truth, Sebastian. Tell her how you
schemed and plotted to get your hands on Briar Oaks,"
Liberty demanded.

Sebastian's smile was malignant, and his eyes took on a
smoky haze. "I keep trying to be rid of you and my
cousin, but you keep turning up." He reached down and
removed a dagger from the tip of his boot. "Perhaps I made the mistake of leaving others to do the work for me. This time I will do it myself, so there will be no mistake."

Oralee, seeing what Sebastian was going to do, made a
dive at him, but he sidestepped her and struck her hard
across the face. She crumpled at his feet.

"How dare you," Liberty said, more concerned for the injured servant than for her own safety. She ran to Oralee
and dropped down beside her, lifting her head. Oralee's
breath was warm on Liberty's hand so Liberty knew she
was merely unconscious.

She raised her eyes to Sebastian, and they were dancing
with blazing anger. "You have a lot to answer for, Sebas
tian. I am going to have the authorities lock you away so
you cannot hurt anyone else!"

Laughter spilled from Sebastian's lips. "You will not be
alive long enough to do anything, Liberty. This time I will
see that you are dead."

Liberty watched with horror as he aimed the dagger at
her. "I am very good with the dagger, Liberty. I can split a
leaf from a tree at fifty paces."

Bandera looked from her husband to her sister. "No, do
not hurt Liberty!" she cried, running forward, just as Sebastian threw the dagger.