Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) (10 page)

"I do."

"Is it true that you are Sebastian's cousin?"

"Guilty."

"I suppose that will make us relatives of a sort. It seems
almost a certainty that Bandera will marry Sebastian. He
is considered a prize catch, you know"—Liberty smiled impishly—" unless, of course, you walk off with the Montesquieu holdings as Madame Tulorose suggested.
Should that happen, Bandera will probably try for you."

Judah glanced back to Bandera and watched her disap
pear inside the ballroom. "You aren't being very kind to your sister. You make her sound as if she were only after
Sebastian for his prospects."

"Not at all. I believe it is a game most women play. My
mother says when one is pretty, one needs nothing else. As you have seen, Bandera is beautiful."

He smiled. "How would you classify yourself?"

"I am reasonably intelligent."

The self-appraisal was spoken earnestly. Liberty leaned
close to Judah. "Bandera says ladies are not supposed to
be intelligent. She says men don't want them to be. Can
that be true?"

Judah laughed at the little charmer. "I have very little
doubt that you will grow up and outsmart all the compe
tition."

Liberty seated herself on a marble bench and spread her smock out about her. "Is that just a polite way of saying you do not think me pretty?"

His laughter rang out. "You are about the most preco
cious little girl it has ever been my pleasure to meet."

"I am not a little girl," she insisted. "Just last week I
turned — "

"No, don't tell me—allow me to guess. You have just
celebrated your twelfth birthday. You see, I am somewhat
of an authority on a young lady's age."

"I am not twelve," Liberty said indignantly. "I am much
older than that."

"I see." He tried not to smile. "How much older?"

She gave him a supercilious glance. "I
...
am fifteen."

"Ah," he said, making a gracious bow before her.
"Mademoiselle Liberty, you will forgive my ignorance.
How can I have been so mistaken? I see now that you are
much older than I first suspected. Is there some way I can
make amends for my miscalculation?" The smile that played around his lips was quickly hidden as he bent to kiss her fingers.

When he glanced up, Liberty saw his turquoise blue
eyes twinkle with humor. As she stared into his handsome
face, she felt a quickening in her heart —a strange feeling
she had never before experienced, one which left her shaken.

For the first time, she noticed that Judah Slaughter was taller than the average man. He had not come in costume,
and her eyes were drawn to the breadth of his shoulders
and to how snugly they fit into his black velvet jacket.
Her eyes moved down his long muscular pantaloon-clad
legs, to his shiny black boots. He was all male, and she
had the feeling there was unleased strength and power behind this man. Before now, Liberty had never dwelled
on the differences between a man and a woman. But this
man had made her all too aware that he was out of the
ordinary. He would stand out anywhere because there was
something different about him. It was more than the fact
that he spoke French with an American accent; it went past the humor that now curved his lips.

"How may I make amends?" he asked once more, while
clicking his heels and giving her an exaggerated bow.

The mischievous smile that hit Liberty's face, made her
eyes sparkle. "You could dance with me, Monsieur. I know the quadrille quite well."

He presented his arm, and she placed her hand on it. "As, my lady wishes," he said, the mirth still dancing in his eyes.

While the music filtered through the air and thousands
of stars twinkled in the ebony sky, Judah danced Liberty
around the garden. While he seemed to find the whole
incident humorous, Liberty was having an entirely differ
ent reaction. She could feel the corded muscles, the
whipcord sinews, as her hand rested on his arm. His gaze
was fixed on her face, and suddenly Liberty was finding it
hard to breathe. When his hard thigh accidentally brushed against her during a quick whirl, she felt her body come awake with a painful jolt.

Staring through thick lashes, Judah caught her eye.

"You are indeed a fine dancer, Mademoiselle. Rarely have
I danced with a partner to equal you." As a lock of her
hair brushed against his cheek, Judah became aware of a
lingering scent. It was not one of the exotic or powerful
scents that most women preferred, but a sweet, soft,
haunting scent. One that he was sure he would remember for the rest of his life. And she was soft in his arms—as if she belonged there. With restraint, Judah kept reminding
himself of her young age.

Liberty tried to speak, but her voice caught in her
throat. She was aware of her limitations when it came to holding this man's attention. She realized how young she
must appear, dressed in her childish smock. She wished with all her young heart that she had paid more attention to her toilette on this night. She could at least have worn
her violet-colored silk gown with the green embroidery
around the skirt. She remembered with horror what his first impression of her must have been. He had seen her at her worst in that mud-covered state.

"I like a lady who doesn't talk," he said, sweeping her
around a hedge to circle the small fountain.

"I speak three languages," she blurted out, wondering
what had ever possessed her to make such a mundane
statement. He would not be interested in her trivial
accomplishments. Why had she not said something clever to impress him? Bandera would have known just how to
keep his attention.

"Do you?"

She lowered her head. "It is unimportant."

Without breaking his stride, he placed a finger under
her chin and raised her face to his. "I believe any accom
plishment is important. Which languages to you speak?"

"I . . . the obvious, French . . . Spanish and English."

He smiled indulgently, as though sensing her discom
fort.
Merveilleuse, brava,
and hurrah!"

Liberty lifted her lashes, meeting his gaze. A shiver ran
through her body, and she spoke quickly, hoping he had
not noticed. "My mother says a woman should never point out her accomplishments to a gentleman. She says
if she acts with the proper decorum, her attributes will be
apparent.

Judah threw back his head and laughed deeply. This little charmer would all too soon have the gentlemen aware of her accomplishments. Even though she was a mere child, he found her fascinating. "What else does your mother say, little Liberty?"

"Her mother says children should be seen and not heard." A musical voice spoke up just behind Judah.
Liberty felt her heart thud as she saw her sister standing under the moon's glow, looking like a beautiful princess.
"Her mother says that she should not pester the adults."

Judah turned, not at all pleased with the way this
woman had embarrassed and humiliated Liberty. He was
about to voice his displeasure when his eyes fell on Bandera, and all else was pushed from his mind. Her
dark hair seemed to shimmer in the moonlight, as did her bright red gown, and her creamy skin was like alabaster.
His heart hammered in his temples as she smiled at him.

"Has my sister been annoying you?"

"To the contrary; I find her enchanting."

Liberty knew she might have been on the moon for all
Bandera and Judah cared. Liberty saw the way her sister's
eyes assessed their guest, and she knew Bandera was on
the trail of another conquest. She quickly glanced up at Judah, hoping he could see through her sister's practiced
ploys. But like a man caught in a dream, Judah released
Liberty's hand and gravitated toward Bandera.

"Liberty, where are your manners?" Bandera scolded.
"You have not yet introduced me to your friend."

Liberty bit back her disappointment. Now was not the
time to act like a spoiled child. "This is Sebastian's cousin, Judah Slaughter. Monsieur Slaughter, meet my
sister, Bandera."

"Ah, yes, the sister." Clicking his heels together, Judah
bowed from the waist, not in mockery as he had earlier
with Liberty, but with politeness and gallantry. "I believe I
am in the presence of Good Queen Bess."

Bandera's eyes sparkled with renewed fascination as she
stared at the handsome stranger. She could feel her pulse
racing as his eyes moved over her face with evident attentiveness. "So," she breathed, "you are Sebastian's
cousin."

"I am."

She circled slowly around him, her eyes taking in the
cut of his coat, the breath of his shoulders. Magnetism
seemed to ooze from every pore of his body. Bandera's movements were graceful, practiced to draw a man's eyes,
and she definitely had drawn Judah's attention. When at
last she stopped in front of him, knowing he was attracted to her, she smiled. "You do not look like a Montesquieu."

"I am not. I am a Slaughter."

Bandera licked her lips, making them moist and soft,
then tapped her black satin fan against her open palm. Both gestures caught Judah's attention. "Sebastian is
worried lest you came to steal away his inheritance. Need
he be?" Her voice was low and musical. He did not see
the urgency in her eyes as she waited for an answer to her
question.

"Sebastian need have no fear of me. I will not be staying long enough to take anything away from him."

Bandera's thick lashes fluttered, and she met Judah's
brilliant turquoise gaze. "Has Sebastian nothing that would interest you?"

His eyes swept across her face to light on her parted lips. "Perhaps, but it has nothing to do with money."

Low laughter trilled from Bandera's throat. "You will
have this country girl's heart  all atwitter,  Monsieur Slaughter." His smile took her breath away.

"Indeed, that might well be my intention."

Her eyes coyly dropped, and she held out a delicate hand. "You danced with my sister, Monsieur. Will you not also dance with me?"

"Indeed Mademoiselle, it would be my pleasure."

Bandera gave her sister a tight smile as she placed her
hand on Judah's arm. With a feeling of helplessness,
Liberty watched the two of them walk toward the house.
She had just met this man who set her heart on fire, and Bandera was stealing him away. How could she ever hope
to compete with her beautiful sister? Why did Judah not
see that Bandera was playing a game with him? She had hoped he would be different from all the other gentlemen
that trailed after Bandera—but apparently he was not.

By now Judah and Bandera had reached the polished dance floor, and he swung her into the stream of dancers.
He could not drag his eyes away from her face. Her
beauty was flawless, her body enticing, her smile flirta
tions.

"I wonder if I could steal you away from my cousin?" he murmured, as if in a trance.

"That depends," she said with a slow smile.

"On what?"

"Whether I want to be stolen away."

Bandera felt her skin tingle. She had never experienced
such strong emotions with a man before. This man was
different from all others; he was the forbidden fruit, the
outsider. Her mother had trained her well, but she had never told her what to do if a man set her heart to throbbing like the hooves of a runway horse. Bandera
thought of Sebastian. He had never stirred any emotion
within her, only boredom and complacency. But he was the favorite, and destined to inherit the Montesquieu fortune. Money and power were the most important things in Bandera's life. Emotions would not buy lovely
gowns, and love would not provide her with a home like
Bend of the River.

"Why have you come among us?" she asked, raising her
eyes to meet his turquoise gaze. If there was the slightest
chance that this man would inherit instead of Sebastian,
Bandera would gladly throw in her lot with him.