Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) (9 page)

"He is you when you were a young man,
M'sieu."

"Did you hear him when he told me what I could do with Bend of the River?" Gustave's laughter filled the room. "He cannot be bought, Moses. I will have to earn
his respect. Damn me if my daughter did not do well —
what a grandson I have in Judah Slaughter!"

The room was stiflingly hot, and the air was heavy with
the overpoweringly sweet scent of
eau de toilette.
The
woman who reclined on the satin-draped bed held no hint
of her former beauty. Her plump figure was evidence of over-indulgence in rich food, and her face was painted and rouged in an attempt to disguise the wrinkles that fanned out around her eyes and mouth. Her lusterless
eyes looked as if they would bulge out of their sockets as
her lips twisted in anger.

"That old man has gone too far this time!" Alicia
Montesquieu pounded her fists into a pillow. I will not be
put out by this… this upstart, Judah Slaughter. We
have lived under your uncle's tyranny for years —indulging
his every whim, bowing to his slightest wishes. He led us
to believe that Bend of the River would one day belong to
you. Now he plays with our emotions. I will not have it!"

Sebastian's eyes darkened slyly. "Judah Slaughter will
never be master of Bend of the River—it is mine and mine
alone."

"What shall we do?" his mother asked, plopping a chocolate bonbon into her mouth.

"We will wait and bide our time until it is the right moment to strike. Meanwhile, I believe it would be wise to try to get on the good side of Gabrielle and her son. We do not want my uncle to become suspicious."

Alicia's eyes twitched with delight. "You mean lull
them into passiveness, make them and the old man think
we are genuinely happy to see them?"

"Exactly."

She clapped her hands together like a child who has
just been promised a treat. "We will outfox them all, will
we not, Sebastian? They are no match for the two of us."

With their heads together like a couple of conspirators,
Sebastian and his mother began to formulate their plans.

"I knew the moment I saw Judah Slaughter that he was
everything my uncle expected me to be, though he never
did give me a chance to live up to his expectations. I would have done anything to please him."

"I warned you that your gambling would get you into
trouble. I tried to tell your father the same thing, but he
would not listen either. You should never have promised
Ben Carson fifty acres of the bottomland to pay off a
gambling debt. You should never have done that. Did you
not know your uncle would find out. He has ears and eyes everywhere."

Sebastian's eyes became cold. "I will not lose Bend of
the River!"

"Do not worry, my son. We will find a way to discredit
Judah Slaughter in your uncle's eyes."

5

Judah Slaughter glanced around the grand ballroom
with bored indifference. It was his first experience with a
masquerade ball. He remembered his mother telling him
that this was the ball everyone looked forward to all year,
and he noted that everyone was in a joyous mood,
seeming to approach life with frivolous abandon. Sebas
tian wore brown velvet and had come dressed as a cava
lier. Judah, looking handsome dressed all in black but for
his white shirt, had refused to wear a costume.

This party was unlike any of the functions Judah had
attended in Boston, and he could not think why he had
allowed Sebastian to talk him into putting in an appear
ance. Perhaps it was because he wanted to get away from
Bend of the River and the ominous cloud that seem to cling about it. Judah had not seen his grandfather since their first meeting, although his mother visited the old
man each day. According to her, his grandfather was still
too ill for them to think of leaving.

Judah glanced back at the people who danced by. One
was dressed as a court jester, others as eighteenth-century
royalty. Roman soldiers danced with peasant maids. As the music slowed, Judah took stock of the young ladies
that danced by amid swishes of silk, trailing enticing fragrances. Stepping back into the shadows, he hoped to
go unobserved while he watched the gaiety around him.

Above the din of music and murmuring voices, Judah heard his name mentioned. Turning, he saw two white-
headed matrons discussing him. He decided one or both of them must be hard of hearing because they were
talking loudly enough for their voices to carry. It was
apparent they did not know he stood just behind them.

The older of the two, a woman with a prominent nose and an eager gleam in her eyes had said, "My dear, how
can Gustave Montesquieu, who is from our finest family,
have a grandson like the Slaughter youth? And further
more, from what nationality is the name Slaughter? It sounds positively primitive to me."

"Haven't you heard?" her companion asked with gleam
ing eyes, glad she could enlighten her friend. "Gustave's
daughter married an American some years back!"

With a twist of his upper lip Judah noticed his nation
ality had just been pronounced in the same tone one would have used if announcing he had the pox.

"No! How can that be? An American!"

The woman lowered her voice. "Indeed,
oui.
I remem
ber the disgrace as if it happened only yesterday. Gabrielle
Montesquieu met the American the year Gustave sent her
to visit relatives in France. I believe the man was a
common seaman. Gabrielle and this Slaughter fell in love
and were married right there in Paris, without so much as
consulting her father."

"How dreadful. Was the marriage the reason why Gus
tave Montesquieu disowned his daughter?"

"Indeed it was. You know what a proud man he is. The
disgrace must have been a bitter pill for him to swallow. I
have heard that poor Gabrielle has been a widow for years, cut off from her family and friends, living in the wilds of America."

"In my opinion, she brought it all on herself. When one
marries beneath oneself, one must suffer the consequences." This pronouncement was delivered smugly by the second woman.

"You are right of course. Dear Sebastian told me that
Gustave issued the invitation for his daughter to come home. It is hard to believe Judah Slaughter and dear
Sebastian are related. I hope Monsieur Montesquieu will
not leave any part of his fortune to this Slaughter. Everything should, by rights, go to Sebastian —he has been so devoted."

"Surely Gustave Montesquieu will never consider leav
ing anything to this American. Everyone knows how steadfast and loyal Sebastian is. He is such a dear boy, while I doubt this American will ever be accepted."

"Make no mistake about it, if he is the one chosen to
inherit the Montesquieu fortune, he will be accepted," the
other lady wisely observed. "There will be a rush of
mamas who seek to acquire him as a husband for their
daughters."

Judah's finely molded lips eased into an amused smile
as he listened to the two ladies discuss him in such
unflattering terms. If only they knew how little he cared
about his grandfather's fortune, they would be shocked.

Judah looked about the room, searching for Sebastian.
His cousin had not made a very favorable first impression, but he now seemed eager to make Judah feel
welcome. Judah did not trust his motives, however. All
those he had met at Bend of the River seemed to be
hiding their true feelings. None was as he appeared, and
there were hidden meanings behind everything said. Ju
dah decided not to let his guard down around any of them.

Tonight Sebastian had convinced him to attend this ball
at a neighboring plantation. It seemed Sebastian was
smitten with the elder daughter of the host, and had every intention of marrying her. Judah waited with little interest for his cousin's ladylove to enter. He doubted that anyone
could be as beautiful as Sebastian claimed his goddess to
be.

Judah felt movement behind him and turned in amaze
ment to see a young urchin standing beside him. It took
him a moment to realize the child was female. She was
covered with mud from the tip of her head to the toes of
her scuffed brown boots. Her skirt was tucked into her
waistband, allowing her skinny knees to show, and her strange blue eyes were made more prominent because of
her smudged face. Her pert little nose was wrinkled with
mirth. As she smiled at Judah, her eyes danced merrily.
Lifting her finger to her lips, she cautioned him to be silent.

"In case you don't know it,
Monsieur,
you have been
crucified by the
creme de la creme,"
she whispered. That
is Madame Dancy and that, Madame Pessac. Their joy in
life is to gossip."

His laughter was soft. "So it would seem. It does not
concern me overmuch what they think of me. But, if you
are a servant, shouldn't you slip out quickly? I would not
want to see you get into trouble."

She smothered a giggle. "Would that I were only a
servant—then my penalty would be far less severe. You see before you,
Monsieur,
a daughter of the house. There
is no way for me to reach the privacy of my room but across that dance floor. Someone locked the back door."

"Did you go swimming in the river?" he wanted to know.

"Not by choice. My boat capsized." She gave him a woeful smile. "I will be in disgrace after tonight."

His smile was warm. "You have my sympathy."

The music had stopped, and Judah's face showed amazement when the young girl squared her shoulders
and strolled leisurely away, heading in the direction of the massive, polished cypress staircase. Everyone's attention
seemed to be drawn to her, but she pretended not to notice. Liberty knew she would face her mother's anger
later on that night, but the damage was done so she was
determined to make the best of it.

Sharp gasps could be heard from the two matrons who
had been discussing Judah in such unflattering terms.
"Well I never," one of them declared in horror. "What will
Liberty be thinking of next? She is a disgrace to her family. A total disgrace!"

"Oui"
agreed her friend. "I fear they will never make a silk purse out of that sow's ear. How unlike her sister she
is."

Judah watched the young girl dash up the stairs two at a time. He smiled as she turned back to him and then
tossed a woebegone glance at the ceiling. Inspired by her
courage, he straightened his snowy-white cravat, stepped
out of the shadows, and bowed before the two
grandes
dames.
"If either of you ladies has a marriageable daughter, I may consider her"—he paused for effect—"but only
if my grandfather leaves me his holdings. Otherwise, I
would not dare aspire so high for a wife."

Hearing a giggle, Judah's attention was drawn to the stairs in time for him to see the girl called Liberty burst
into laughter. With a wink in her direction, he walked out the double doors into the garden, leaving the two matrons
gaping.

As he gazed up at the crescent moon, he wondered how
the young girl had come to be named Liberty. Poor little
homely creature, her name was the most promising thing
about her. He laughed at the memory of the humor he
had seen in her dancing blue eyes. She might never grow
into a beauty, but she was certainly an adorable little minx.

The music had started again. Violins sweetly filled the
air with a haunting melody. Judah glanced back at the house. He was certain that he did not fit in with his mother's people. He was an American, and proud of it! His father's family, the Slaughters, had come from a
distinguished, old family. He would never apologize to
anyone for who he was.

Suddenly the balcony doors were pushed open, and he
recognized his cousin's voice. "I thought you would never
come down. Are you happy now that you made the grand
entrance?"

Judah assumed the woman beside his cousin was the
femme fatale
Sebastian had described. He allowed his
eyes to rove to her, and he was disappointed that she wore
a mask. There was no mistaking her costume; it was meant to represent Queen Elizabeth of England. Her
gown was all red, but for the white ruff at her throat, and
her hair was covered with a red wig. When she laughingly removed the mask and the red wig and tossed them aside,
ebony locks spilled down her back. Her face was like an
angel's, and her voice was musical when she spoke.

"When I have an expensive new gown, I like to show it
off," Bandera stated. Opening her fan, she tapped Sebas
tian on the shoulder. "You cannot deny that I fooled everyone here tonight. At least they pretended not to know me."

"No disguise can hide your beauty, Bandera." Sebastian
stared down at her. "I am the envy of every man here because you are with me," he said with feeling. Pulling
her into his arms, he tried to kiss her, but she ducked her
head and laughed at his attempt.

"Surely you do not expect the Queen of England to be
of easy virtue, Sebastian."

Judah was so caught up in the woman's spell that he did not realize he was not alone until he heard Liberty
speak. "That's my sister, Bandera. Men always think she's
beautiful. I just think she's tiresome." Liberty bit into a
carrot and continued talking with her mouth full. "All she
ever thinks about is clothes and her gentlemen friends.
She never has fun because she is too busy trying to look
beautiful."

Judah noticed that the young girl's face had been scrubbed clean and her light-colored hair was now tied back with a ribbon. The shapeless smock she wore was
also clean. "And what do you do for fun, Mademoiselle
Liberty?"

She tossed aside her uneaten carrot. "Mostly I like to be
in the swamps, but I also like to ride horses and to help
out in the stable. But I have to sneak off to do that. I like
horses more than most people I know."

Judah smiled. "So do I, Liberty. So do I. Why are you
not dressed in costume?"

"I am too young to attend the ball this year. My mother says I have to wait two more years before I can participate
in the masquerade ball."

His eyes went back to the balcony where that lovely
vision, Bandera, had been joined by three other gentle
men. Her laughter was enchanting—everything about her
was enchanting.

"Monsieur,
what does it feel like to be an American?"
Liberty wanted to know.

Through lowered lashes, he looked down at her. "Comfortable. I suspect you will find out before long. It is my
guess that Orleans Territory will soon become a state."

"Do you think so?"