Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) Read online

  His smile was warm as he reached out to catch a golden wisp of hair and tuck it behind her ear. "I believe you are already in possession of the traits your father expects of you, little Liberty. I am very proud that I have come to know you."

  Her eyes brightened, and she caught her breath as his finger trailed across her chin. "Are you ready, Judah?" They had both unconsciously slipped into a first-name basis.

  "Indeed I am."

  Suddenly she wanted to know everything about him— his likes and dislikes, his favorite pastime, his plans for the future. "What did you do before you came to your grandfather's house?"

  He chuckled. "You see before you a sea captain, Liberty. I hope you are properly impressed."

  Her eyes rounded in surprise. "A sea captain! I never suspected, but oui, it fits." Now she could better understand why his skin was so beautifully tanned. "How did you come to be a captain?"

  "I suppose it's in my blood. My father was a sea captain."

  "But you are so young. One always thinks of a sea captain as an elderly, more mature gentleman."

  He laughed again. "If you are wondering if I am qualified to captain a ship, the answer is yes."

  "What is the name of your ship?"

  "The Winged Victory."

  "I like that. What kind of ship is she?"

  "She is a frigate. Do you know anything about ships?"

  "No, but I would very much like to. Where is she now? Did you sail her here?"

  He took another bite of apple and chewed it before answering. "My first mate, Philippe Cease, took the Winged Victory to the Spanish Territory. On his return I will leave for Boston."

  Suddenly her heart felt heavy, and she shook her head. "Does that mean you will be leaving as soon as he arrives?"

  "Perhaps." He traced the stem of the apple with a long finger, then pulled it out and tossed it away. "That will depend on my mother. But I need to get back to sea, Liberty. That is the way I make my living."

  "Your grandfather is a very wealthy man."

  "I agree."

  "You could-"

  "Let me explain something to you, my new little friend. What my grandfather has, or does not have, does not affect me in any case. I make my own way."

  She caught the bite to his words, and felt an even deeper admiration for Judah. "I know your grandfather quite well. It is strange that he never told me about you. He is really very nice, once you realize he talks gruffly to cover a kind heart."

  Judah looked at her doubtfully. "Perhaps you have seen this side of him. I doubt I ever shall." He shifted his weight. "It is much too nice a day to talk about my grandfather."

  Liberty could read the anger in the depths of Judah's eyes, and she realized it was time to change the subject. "I have never sailed on a big ship. The only times I have been on a boat are on occasional trips down the Mississippi to New Orleans, or of course when peddling my skiff down the bayous —but that doesn't qualify."

  "Do you go into the swamps alone?" His voice was filled with wonder.

  "Of course. My father says I know the swamps better than anyone. Besides, I have a friend that I visit there."

  "Who would live in the swamps besides alligators?"

  Liberty smiled slightly. "A woman named Zippora. Some people believe her to be a witch, but she's not. She lives in a cabin where she weaves her spells and mixes her potions." Her eyes danced merrily. "Are you impressed?"

  "Indeed. I have heard it said that voodoo is still secretly practiced among many of the slaves."

  "As I said, Zippora is not really a witch, and she claims she does not practice voodoo. But she has strange powers. She is my best friend. I find her company preferable to that of most people I know."

  "Let me see if I have this right. "You prefer the company of horses and witches, to that of people of your own kind —is that correct?"

  "Oui, I do."

  After a long moment of silence, Liberty asked. "What do you think of Sebastian?"

  "He is everything I expected him to be."

  "Which is no answer at all."

  He arched an eyebrow. "You catch on quickly. I like a woman with a fast mind."

  Liberty took a bite of her apple while studying him closely. "You don't think much of us do you?"

  His smile was genuine. "I like you."

  "You like Bandera, too, don't you?"

  "Tell me about her," he said with sudden attentiveness. "What is she really like?"

  "No need for me to tell you she is lovely; you already know that. Bandera is everything a young lady of quality should be. She will one day adorn some gentleman's home and make him the perfect wife." She could have added that Bandera was cold and calculating, but she did not. In spite of her sister's shortcomings, Liberty loved her. And it was not in Liberty's nature to be unkind.

  "I find it strange that your sister has dark hair and yours is so fair," Judah observed aloud.

  "In truth, Bandera is only my half sister. My mother was married and widowed before she met my father."

  "That would explain the difference in coloring."

  "Oui. Bandera is Spanish, while I am only half-Spanish.

  At that moment, the fishing pole began to wiggle, and Judah and Liberty both made a dive for it. Laughing and tugging at the line, she handed the pole to him. With a strong jerk, he pulled the fish in, and it landed with a plop on the riverbank.

  Liberty picked up the two-pound catfish, steadied it with one hand, then deftly removed the hook from its mouth. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

  "No, as a matter of fact I haven't."

  "How would you like to have a freshly cooked catfish?"

  "I would like nothing better. How will you arrange it?"

  "Come with me," she said, shouldering her fishing pole. "You are in for a real feast." Liberty made her way down the sun-baked brick path, which was moss covered and almost hidden from view. Judah gathered up the reins of his horse and followed, while Liberty's horse grazed beside the river. Rounding a bend, Judah stopped short when he saw the huge barn that fallen into disrepair.

  Judah followed Liberty inside, and tied his horse to a broken stall post. He watched her gather wood and place it inside a white brick oven. Then Liberty reached into her pocket, withdrew a flint, and ignited a fire.

  "Do you come here often?" Judah asked, his eyes following the pigeons that were nesting in the loft.

  "Oui. Usually my father and I come here to clean and cook our catch. We laugh and he speaks to me of the past, when Briar Oaks was the grandest plantation around." Her eyes softened with sadness. "I am sure it has not escaped your notice that my home has fallen on hard times."

  He watched her expertly clean the fish and place it on a red-hot stone to bake. The delicious aroma quickly filled the air. "I know how you must feel, although I never knew my father. After he died, my mother and I knew hard times."

  Liberty plopped herself down on a wooden barrel and gave him a sympathetic smile. "I am sorry. It must be sad to lose one's father."

  He smiled. "How did we get on such a serious subject? Tell me, though," he said with interest, "how is it that a plantation like Briar Oaks can fall on hard times?"

  "My father says that the indigo crop is on its way out, and he should have realized it long before now. He wants to concentrate on cotton and perhaps even tobacco. He believes sugarcane is the way of the future. He hopes one day to restore Briar Oaks to its former beauty."

  Judah was impressed and amused that one so young would be so wise. He refrained from commenting on her intelligence, knowing her well enough by now to realize that she would think he was being condescending. "I would not have thought tobacco would do well this far west, but cotton, perhaps."

  "You will find this land very fertile. One has but to drop a seed in the soil and, most probably, it will take root."

  Nature chose that moment to press her authority. A sudden flash of lightning split the air while thunder rolled across the river. Rain fell in torrents, and Liberty and Judah we
re forced to take shelter under the protected side of the barn, where the cypress shingles were still intact.

  A feeling of comradeship joined them together as they ate the delicious-tasting baked catfish and stood beneath the shelter of the barn, watching the rain swell the muddy river.

  Liberty looked up at Judah and smiled. "I love it when it rains. It washes the earth clean, and the smell of damp earth is so invigorating. I love to sleep with the rain pounding on the roof and thunder echoing down the valley."

  "I have heard my mother tell stories of the Mississippi River on a rampage. I am sure that is an aspect of the rain that you don't enjoy."

  "Oui, when it floods, it is not pleasant. But as I told you, we love our River; when one loves, one must take the bitter with the sweet."

  Judah couldn't keep from laughing. Her little face was drawn up with such concern, and she appeared much older at that moment. With a sudden impulse, he reached out and hugged her to him. "Well, little one, you are my first friend in New Orleans. Perhaps you and your sister will be my only friends."

  She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his broad shoulder, listening to the steady beat of his heart. She did not want to be just his friend. Oh, no, she wanted to be so much more. Tb her, his arms encased her in a dream world; she could almost imagine what it would feel like to be kissed by him.

  Liberty raised her face, and met the soft look in his eyes. With a daring that came from her newfound love, she raised up on tiptoes and pressed her lips against his.

  For the briefest moment, Judah's hands came up to cup her head, and he deepened the kiss. Liberty felt her breathing stop as his lips pressed more tightly against hers. Then suddenly, he jerked his head up and roughly pushed her aside.

  Judah drew in several steadying breaths, before he spoke in a shaky voice. "Don't ever do that again, Liberty." Anger flashed in his eyes. "Do you know what can happen to you if you go around kissing strange men? If I were of a mind to, I could have easily taken advantage of your innocence."

  Embarrassed by his stinging words, she backed away from him, then turned and dashed out of the barn, to race down the brick walk toward her horse. In the distance she could hear him calling out to her, but she didn't turn around. Gathering up a handful of Goliath's mane, she bounded onto his back and galloped toward the house.

  Tears and raindrops washed down her face. She loved Judah Slaughter, and he thought she was just a troublesome child. Why had she acted so boldly with him? They were having such a wonderful time before she had spoiled it.

  Liberty rode Goliath up to the docks. Bounding to the ground, she jumped into her skiff, knowing her horse would find his way back to the stable.

  The heavy rain did not deter her from her course—she needed to see Zippora. Her only friend would explain what was happening to her mind and body since she had met Judah Slaughter. Perhaps Zippora had a potion that would wipe him from her heart. No, she wanted to keep the image of him in her heart forever.

  Zippora held Liberty in her arms and spoke soothingly to her as she cried out her heartache. When it was over, she handed the girl an ivory comb and stood her before a mirror.

  "From this day forward, you will not go about the countryside looking like a drowned river rat. You will learn to dress and move with pride. You are no longer a child. If you have the heart of a woman, you must act like a woman."

  Through the mirror, Liberty stared into Zippora's strange yellow eyes. "Do you think I will ever be pretty?"

  "How can I say? I am not a fortuneteller. You will never look other than you do today, unless you take pride in who you are. It is time you stopped running from life and faced some truths, Liberty Boudreaux. Most of us only have one chance at happiness, and it does not usually land in our laps. Anything worthwhile must be earned, or it has no value. Regardless of what you believe, your appearance does matter."

  Liberty was finding that Zippora often spoke in riddles, and she did not always understand her meaning. "I suppose on several occasions I have been an embarrassment to my family. My mother is justified in her criticism."

  "I am glad you see this for yourself."

  Liberty smiled. "I will do as you say. Will you teach me how to become a lady?"

  "This I will do."

  Liberty hugged Zippora before turning away. "I am going to be pretty, just you wait and see. Judah will one day look at me and think I am beautiful."

  Zippora watched as the young girl ran down the path to her boat. "Oui, little one," she said aloud, "you will one day be a beauty, but it will be more of a curse to you than a blessing. I will watch over you if I can."

  It was almost sundown by the time Liberty reached home. The clouds had cleared, and a sky of dark purple dominated the western horizon. Her heart was lighter as she picked a wild rose and slipped it behind her ear. The talk with Zippora had given her a new direction in life. If it were possible, she would win Judah Slaughter. She hoped he would not sail away before she could put her new plan into effect. There was not much money for new clothing. Perhaps she could take some of Bandera's old gowns, those that would be flattering to her skin and hair coloring, and have them restyled for herself.

  Liberty's head was so filled with plans that she had no warning there were guests in the house until it was too late. Before entering, she wiped her muddy boots on the mat. As she made her way toward the stairs, she hummed a happy little tune. Her mind was not on her appearance, and for that moment she had forgotten that she wore damp trousers.

  Oralee was coming down the stairs when she encountered Liberty. The maid's eyes roved over Liberty's wet garments and she shook her head.

  "Mon dieu, will you never learn to be a lady? You know your mother will not like you to come dragging in looking like a barnyard cat. Your sister has guests. M'sieu Sebastian is here with another gentleman. You must get upstairs quickly before you are discovered." Hearing voices and laughter coming from the salon, Liberty hastened to the stairs. If Judah was with Sebastian, she certainly did not want him to see her until she had changed into a gown. Every time they met, she looked less than favorable. She wanted tonight to be different.

  In her haste, Liberty caught her foot on the edge of the tattered rug, and she lost her balance. She clutched at the banister as she felt her body tumble backward. Rolling down three steps, she landed with a thud against the ornate pedestal. Liberty felt pain shoot through her side as she helplessly watched the bust of Louis XVI teeter on the edge of the pedestal.

  "No!" she cried, reaching out her hand to her father's most valued treasure. The statue had been presented to her father by the king himself, when, as a young man, Louis Boudreaux had visited France on his grand tour. The pain in her side did not matter. It was not important that her mother and sister came rushing out of the salon to see what the commotion was. She did not care that Sebastian Montesquieu was staring at her with disbelief written on his face. The only thing that was important was to save her father's treasure.

  Lunging forward, she watched in horror as the bust tipped over the edge and fell crashing to the floor. For what seemed like an eternity, a hush fell over the house. Liberty crawled over to the broken treasure, tenderly touching the shattered fragments. She raised tear-bright eyes to her mother, whose face was rigid with anger; then she spoke, a sob in her voice.

  "I am sorry, Maman. I did not intend—"

  "That's right, Liberty, you never intend to cause trouble, but you always do. Go to your room at once. I will attend to you later."

  Liberty felt utter humiliation when she saw the slight smile on Sebastian's face. He made her aware that her tangled hair had spilled across her face, that her clothing was rumpled and muddy. Liberty's heart skipped a beat when she saw Judah Slaughter looking down at her with sympathy in his eyes. Now her humiliation was complete. The worst that could happen had happened.

  Without ceremony Judah reached out his hand, and she placed hers in his warm clasp. With a short tug, he helped her to her feet. "This, too, shall pass," he
whispered near her ear, as if he knew what she was feeling.

  Shame kept Liberty from meeting Judah's eyes, as she murmured a hasty, thank you. Worse than her embarrassment was the fact that she had destroyed her father's treasure. Without a backward glance, she hurried up the stairs, wishing she were dead. After today, how would she ever face Judah? On entering her room, Liberty threw herself down on the bed and stared, dry-eyed, out the window.

  This evening her reckless ways had brought shame on her mother and a loss to her father. She made a silent vow that this was the last day she would act without considering the consequences. Zippora was right, it was time she behaved like a woman.

  Hours passed and the house became quiet. Oralee had brought Liberty a tray of food, but it sat on the small table, uneaten. Liberty paced the floor, knowing the hardest thing she would ever have to do in her whole life would be to face her father and explain to him that she had broken his bust of Louis XVI. She knew he must be home by now. As difficult as it was, she would have to tell him how sorry she was.

  Squaring her shoulders and setting her chin, she slowly descended the stairs. Even though the rest of the house slept, she knew her father would still be working on his ledgers. Rapping on the door, she entered at his invitation.

  Louis, seeing his daughter's stricken face, motioned her closer. She stood stiffly at the edge of his big mahogany desk, trying to gather the courage to tell him of her sin.

  "Come here, Liberty. Nothing can be so dreadful as to make you this sad."

  She took his hand. "This is worse than dreadful, Papa. I have done the unforgivable." Tears trailed down her cheeks, and she tried to turn away; but her father would not allow it. "What is your infraction, ma chere?" he asked kindly.

  "I . . . broke your bust of Louis XVI!" she cried out. "It was an accident, but none the less unforgivable."

  He raised her face and wiped her tears away with his thumb. "That old thing. It is just as well that it is broken. We are about to become a new nation. It is time to throw off the monarchy and embrace a president."