Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) (31 page)

Tears rolled down Liberty's cheeks. She now stood before him, naked and utterly defenseless. The only
things between her and complete humiliation were a red
silk mask and an equally red wig. Glancing into his eyes,
her eyes begged for pity, but of course he could not see
them. He reached for a wineglass and filled it with sparkling liquid.

"Here," he said, advancing toward her and holding out
the glass. "Fortify yourself for what lies ahead, because I
intend to use all the strength you have."

For the first time Judah allowed himself to look at her
and his breath caught in his throat. She was even lovelier
than he had thought. Her firm young breasts, with their
dusky tips, were just made for a man's hand to caress.
Her skin was like white velvet, her waist tiny, her hips
rounded. A deep ache started in his groin as his eyes
traveled across her flat stomach to the mat of golden hair
nestled between her legs.

In the back of his mind a warning bell sounded. Something was not right here. Was it that she was not acting the part of a wanton? She was almost shy with
him. Pouring himself a glass of wine, he raised it to her.
'To a night of . . .desire, if not . . . love."

Judah was jolted when he saw a tear escape from
beneath her mask. But he set his glass aside, determined
not to weaken. He had Bandera just where he wanted her.
"I know what your problem is," he stated in a shaky
voice. "I have too many clothes on. He quickly removed
his shirt and tossed it aside. Unfastening his britches, he
smiled when she turned her head away. "You play your part to the hilt, Bandera. Go ahead, play the coy maiden if it pleases you."

"Judah, do not do this, I implore you." Her hand went
out to him, but he ignored it and bent to remove his boots.

"I will not force myself on you, if that is what you fear,
Bandera. No, I will not have to resort to that."

"Judah—" Liberty's eyes moved to his body, and she
was stunned by his masculine beauty. Blond hair curled
around the nape of his neck, and it sprung forth from his
sun-bronzed chest. His waist was narrow, his hips and legs
were well muscled. Hungrily, her eyes devoured his body.
She was grateful that he could not see her eyes.

"No more talk," he said, bending to blow out the candle.

For a moment, until Liberty's eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she could see nothing. Then a hand came out of the darkness, and she was pulled against a hard,
muscular body.

"Now, isn't this better," he breathed against her cheek.
"Let me rid you of your wig and mask, Bandera. I want you to be completely undressed."

Liberty felt that a knife was plunged into her heart
every time he called her Bandera. Would he use her body
again, pretending she was her sister? His hot lips brushed
against her mouth, and she stiffened. With gentle pressure, he probed her lips apart, and his tongue darted
inside. Wild sensations beat like drums in her ears. Then his hands circled her waist, and he brought her body to
mesh with his.

His breathing was heavy, and he muttered in her ear.
"You were made for a man's pleasure. I have never seen a body as desirable as yours. Please give yourself to me. Let
me enter paradise just once more."

Liberty sensed that his whole attitude had changed again. He was so filled with love and hate for her sister
that he didn't know which part to play. He was no longer
the arrogant suitor. He was pleading with her. Was this
another of his tricks? If it was, it was working. She pressed her hips more tightly against him, and a gasp escaped her as his swollen spear throbbed against her.

Judah kissed her slowly, pleasurably igniting a fire
within the two of them that could only be extinguished by
the joining of their bodies.

"I like the way your body answers mine," he whispered,
picking her up in his arms and placing her on the bed. Even though it was dark in the room, he could imagine her golden hair spread across the pillow ... No! he thought, his mind in a turmoil. Not golden hair—Ban
dera's hair is black. Why did his mind always play tricks
on him?

The bed sagged as he joined her. He was hesitant, until
she touched his face. Judah closed his eyes, reveling in the
softness of her hand. Like a man who had found an
island after being lost at sea, he gravitated toward her
warmth. Rolling her beneath him, he knew he had com
pletely lost control of the situation. He hungered for her
like he had never hungered after a woman before. He
cursed himself for drinking the wine, thinking he should
have known he would need a clear head.

Suddenly Liberty panicked. Judah would take all she had to give, while thinking she was another woman. He
would leave her with nothing, not even her self-respect.
With a strangled cry, she tried to move from under him.

"Easy, little one," he said, in a gentle voice. "I would
never hurt you."

Liberty stopped her thrashing. Did Judah realize he
had called her little one—the name only he and Zippora
had used for her. Liberty would have cried out, but he smothered her cry with his mouth. Lost . . . she was lost.
Every time he touched her, she melted more into the mattress. Each time his lips took hers, she moaned
passionately. His mouth moved down the satiny smooth
ness of her throat, until he found the valley between her
breasts. He planted tiny kisses on each dusky tip, making
her body tremble with want and need.

The curly hair on his chest tickled and tantalized her
breasts when he clasped her to him. Hot flesh fused to hot flesh. Judah felt a pounding in his head, and he
realized it was the beating of his heart. Her nearness was
driving him to the brink of madness. He was wild to bury
himself deeply inside her once more.

Judah was not gentle as he drove his aching, throbbing shaft into the softness of her body and shuddered with
glorious pulsating feelings. This was what he had ached
for. This was what his body craved.

The hot invasion into her inner core came unexpectedly,
and Liberty bit her lips to keep from crying out. At first
Judah did not move, but was content to merely hold her
in place. The only sounds were a boat whistle from the
Mississippi and the heavy breathing of the two people in
the room.

Liberty could feel him imbedded inside her; it was as if
she had taken him into herself and he had become a part
of her body. Her fingers tightened against his arm as he
moved ever so slightly, bringing a moan from him.

"This time it is no dream. It is so right, between us,
little one." His shuddering breath teased her ear. "You are
right for me. I want no one but you."

Liberty felt delight rush through her body.
Oui,
she thought in a haze of pleasure, it
was
so right between them. Judah was not even aware of it, but he had called out to her, not Bandera.

"I have dreamed of you so often," he whispered, his forward thrusts still slow and easy. "In fact there was not
a night I didn't dream of you."

His words penetrated her consciousness. "Why?" she
needed to know.

"Damned if I know. I believe, that night in old Zippora's cabin, you put a spell on me. Since then I have wanted no one but you."

"I do not understand," she said, stilling his motion by
placing her hand on his hip.

A burning ache seared his body, and he wanted to
plunge even deeper into her. "I do not understand myself.
How could you betray me at one moment, and give me
such pleasure in the next? I have given up trying to reason
it out."

Liberty was too confused to try to untangle the web of
lies that bound her and Judah together. The only thing
that mattered at the moment, was that he wanted her. Her
hand slid up his back, and she moved her hips just a
fraction. He laughed in her ear, and thrust forward until
deeply buried in her body. They made love with wild
abandonment, conscious only of each other.

Liberty heard Judah call out in a passionate voice. "Little one, little one, you take my breath away." She wasn't at all sure he knew whose body he plundered. Surely he had never called anyone but her by that name.

Amid burning, passionate lovemaking, Liberty and Ju
dah found the paradise that they had once created for
themselves, in a small cabin in the swamps. Again and again, he took her body throughout the night—neither
wanted to sleep—until at last they lay exhausted in each other's arms.

"I will never forget this night," he said, pulling her head
to rest against his chest. She could hear the thundering of
his heart, and she curled up contentedly. "Do you love me?" she asked drowsily.

"Love?" he smiled against her cheek. "I do not know what that word means, but I desire you, and that is a far
longer-lasting emotion than love."

All emotion had been drained out of him, and he yawned. "So sleepy," he murmured. "I have been tormented for so long . . . now I can sleep."

Liberty felt his grip loosen on her hand, and she knew
he had fallen asleep. After waiting a few moments, she
carefully eased off the bed. As she dressed, she feared
Judah would awaken. She quickly replaced her mask and
put on the wig; then she picked up Judah's cape and
pulled it about her shoulders. Silently she crossed to the
door.

Once out of Judah's room, she breathed a sigh of relief. When she reached the public room, she took
money out of her drawstring bag and pressed it into the
landlord's hand, asking him to find her a conveyance to take her to the waterfront.

Liberty thought the passenger boat would never arrive at Briar Oaks. It was almost sunup when she stepped ashore. As soon as the passenger boat was out of sight,
she climbed into her own small boat and paddled toward
the swamps.

In the half-darkness, hopelessness weighed heavily on
Liberty's small shoulders. She had to see Zippora. Per
haps her friend would help her understand why she had
given herself to Judah again tonight.

14

Judah awoke with the lingering scent of some haunting
fragrance filling his senses and invoking bittersweet mem
ories. Reaching out his hand in search of the soft warm body that had brought him so much delight, he found he
was in bed alone. A quick glance about the room told him that she had gone.

Throwing the covers aside, Judah felt a great sense of
loss. Had last night been just another dream? His eyes caught sight of something in the fold of the covers, and
he picked up the red ribbon that had been torn from her
gown. No, last night had not been a dream. Today
Judah's body felt revived, and his spirits soared. Some
where in the back of his mind he experienced a certain distaste in knowing that someone like Bandera should be
the one woman who made him feel so alive, yet he now
realized he could never use her to hurt Sebastian. He would have to find another way to get at his cousin.

Judah tried to push the preceding night to the back of his mind because he had important matters to attend to.
He would ask Etienne to take him to the headquarters of
Andrew Jackson in the afternoon. His country was at
war, and he had decided to aid her defense. His vendetta with Sebastian would have to wait. There was a great
possibility that he might be recognized and arrested, but
that was a chance he would have to take.

Etienne instructed the driver of the carriage to take them to 106 Royal Street. It was a crisp, cold morning, and Judah could feel the tension in the air. This was not the New Orleans he remembered. Absent was the sound
of children's laughter, and no servants plodded the streets, shopping for their masters' tables. Even the birds seemed silent. Judah fastened the brass button on his green velvet
cutaway, as he smiled at his friend.

"What news of the war, Etienne?"

Etienne, looking every bit the dashing young naval
officer, glanced speculatively toward the east. "The situa
tion looks very grave, Judah. General Jackson received
word today that the British fleet are in a position that suggests they will soon be landing."

"How near are they?"

"Within nine miles of striking distance."

The buggy came to a halt, so the two men stepped down. Etienne hastily shook Judah's hand and then climbed back into the buggy. "I will not be coming in with you. General Jackson has asked to see you alone."

After Etienne disappeared, Judah turned to the door,
where a sentry stood at attention. The man obviously had been told to expect Judah, because he opened the
door and stepped aside, allowing him admittance to the
house.

The only occupant of the room Judah entered was one
of Jackson's Tennessee Regulars. He was dressed in rough
buckskin, his hat pulled down over his eyes, and the man
appeared to be asleep, but Judah had the feeling that he
was alert to everything that was going on around him and
would come to full attention if the situation called for it

Suddenly the door opened, and a man entered who
could be none other than Andrew Jackson himself. His
rough-hewn face was accented by a thick crop of white hair. His legs were long and gangly, his body lean and
wiry. Bushy eyebrows sagged over his blue eyes in which
there was a troubled look. For a moment he silently
studied Judah with an intense stare. Then a slight smile
curved his generous mouth. "I once met your father. I was
trying to see if you resemble him . . . and you do."

"So my mother used to tell me, sir. I never knew my
father."

Jackson waved Judah into a chair and then seated
himself behind the desk. "Yes, that is a tragedy. I under
stand your father was set upon by the Barbary pirates, and still managed to save his ship before he died."

"Yes, sir."

"That is a matter I wish to talk to you about at a later date. For now, I am told you might be willing to help your country in her hour of need."

"I would gladly do anything I can, sir. But I believe you
are already aware that I am considered a fugitive from justice here in New Orleans."

"Etienne filled me in on your problem." Jackson laced
his long fingers together, his eyes looking deep into Judah's. "Etienne believes in your innocence, and I trust
his judgment, so I am willing to offer you a deal. Are you
interested?"

Judah could see the dark circles under Jackson's eyes,
and he knew this man now had the weight of the war on his shoulders. "Will your proposition also include my men, sir?"

"Yes, that's understood. Do you want to hear my proposal?"

"I would be very interested, sir."

"I will make you the same offer I made to Jean Lafitte.
If you and your men will help me defend this city, I will
see that you get a full pardon for any past misdeeds."

Judah was thoughtful for a moment. "That is a very
tempting offer, sir. Are you sure I should be pardoned?"

"Yes, I believe so. I will never be convinced that the son of Daniel Slaughter could have committed a very serious infraction."

Judah looked into humorous blue eyes. "I fear I com
mitted the serious infraction of being a fool. I allowed a
woman to become too important to me. I should have been on guard, but her beauty blinded me."

Jackson chuckled. "Ah, yes the fair sex. I notice you do
not proclaim your innocence."

"Would you believe me if I told you I had been falsely
accused?"

Again Jackson looked into his eyes. "Yes, I believe I would. But as I told you, Etienne believes you innocent,
and that is good enough for me."

Judah noticed that the man who had been dozing in
the corner stood up and quietly ambled out of the room.
Jackson nodded in the man's direction. "Since arriving in
this city, I have been amazed at the men who have
volunteered to fight. I have French blue bloods, Spanish
noblemen, free blacks, and even Indians. I am proud to
have them all, but give me two hundred Tennesseans like
that one, and I'll whip the tail off the British."

"Sir, I stand ready to help you in any way I can. I put
my ship, my men, and my life at your disposal. You have
only to tell me what to do."

The commander smiled. "I'll take your men and your
ship, but I want you to keep your life. Report to Etienne,
and he will tell you what to do."

Judah was tall, but when he stood up, he came eye to
eye with Andrew Jackson. For a moment Jackson's face
whitened and he clutched at his heart.

"Sir, are you ill? Can I help," Judah asked with concern.

Jackson waved him aside. "It is nothing. Few people
know this, but I have three bullets in me that could not be
removed. Sometimes they cause me pain. For the most part I try to ignore them. Sometimes I cannot."

Judah helped Jackson into a chair and poured him a
glass of water from the pitcher on the desk. "Why cannot
the bullets be removed, sir?"

Jackson took a sip of water, and some of the color returned to his cheeks. "One of them is too near my
heart. But you did not come here today to talk about my
health. I have been forced to place New Orleans under
martial law. That gives me the authority to free you of all charges lodged against you. Of course, you will want to
clear your name later on. I assume you can do that?" "Yes, sir, I believe so."

"Fine." He reached for paper and quill and began to
write. When he had finished, he pushed the document at
Judah. "Your paper to freedom! No one will question
this. For the time being you will consider yourself an unofficial officer in the United States Navy, Captain
Slaughter.

"Thank you, sir. I am proud to serve you."

"Good, good. But you do not serve me, son. Like your
father before you, you serve your country." Already the general's attention was turning to the maps that were laid
out on his desk. Judah realized that he was in the
presence of a great man, and he had very little doubt that
this man could easily defeat America's enemies.

Liberty stood on the banks of the river, caught up in the beauty of the night. The moon cast a silvery path
across the Mississippi, disguising its usual mud color.
Beneath the clear sky, the temperature had dropped, and
there was a bone-chilling iciness in the air. She was just
returning from the slave quarters, where she had tended a
child with the croup, and she could not resist the beauty of her river. She had been trying to keep busy so she wouldn't think too much about the night she had spent with Judah Slaughter. She wasn't very proud of the fact that Judah had so easily lured her into his bed.

She sighed, wondering where Judah was at that mo
ment. She had told no one but Zippora that Judah had
returned, and she wondered what Sebastian and Bandera
would do if they learned he was back.

Liberty gazed toward the house. Lights streamed out of
the drawing-room windows, and she knew the family
would be gathered about the huge fireplace, waiting for dinner to be served. She was not in the mood to listen to Sebastian's mother complain about being forced to live on
the charity of others, nor to Bandera bemoaning the fact
that there was no money for a new gown, while Sebastian
sipped brandy and made suggestive innuendoes and inane
remarks. Liberty decided that if she went to the back of
the house, she could slip upstairs and not have to face any
of them tonight.

She shouldered her heavy medicine bag, but her foot
steps lagged. She was weary because everything was fall
ing on her shoulders, and she had no help from
Sebastian. His favorite remark was that a gentleman did
not dirty his hands with menial labor.

Since it was winter, the fields lay waiting for spring
planting. Still, there was plenty of work to keep her busy.
There were hogs to be slaughtered, meat to be cured, food to be preserved and dried. She was nurse, confessor, and
peacemaker for everyone on Briar Oaks. She had to see
that all were properly clothed and had plenty to eat. There had been a time when her mother had filled the role of mistress at Briar Oaks. Now that, too, fell to Liberty.

When Liberty entered the bright, cheery kitchen, Ora
lee met her with a stern look on her face. "Have I not warned you not to stay out in the damp night air,
ma
petite?
You will become ill, and then where would the rest
of us be?"

Liberty smiled at Oralee, her only friend in an otherwise hostile environment. She knew this servant was the only one who really cared about what happened to her. Handing Oralee her medicine bag, Liberty removed her damp cape and hung it on a peg.

"It looks like Matty's daughter has a bad case of the croup, Oralee. After I put her head over steaming water and gave her honey and vinegar, she seemed to calm down."

"I have a tub of hot water waiting for you in your bedroom ... or it was hot, probably cold by now," Oralee stated, taking Liberty by the shoulders and pointing her toward the back stairs. "You have time for a quick bath before dinner is served."

Obediently Liberty climbed the stairs, wishing she did not have to come back down to dine with the family.

Liberty was preoccupied at dinner and hardly noticed the usual bickering that took place around the table, until Bandera spoke directly to her.

"Liberty did you hear me?"

"I . . . no, my mind was wandering, Bandera. What did you say?"

"I was telling you how demeaning it was today when the Dulongs called at tea time and I had only that old china tea set. You are stripping this house to the bone, selling off all that is valuable. Our neighbors are very aware that we are paupers. I will never be able to hold my head up if you do not stop selling off everything."

"I am not so worried about you holding your head up as I am about feeding you, Bandera. You would be hard pressed to hold your head up if you were starving. I am forced to sell everything but the bare necessities so that will not be the case."

"I think it is a disgrace," Alicia expressed her view, and
in a rare moment agreed with her daughter-in-law. "I have
never before been forced to redo one of my old gowns so
I could have something suitable to wear. Poor Sebastian's
shirts are frayed, and he hasn't had a new coat in months."