Moontide Embrace (Historical Romance) (35 page)

She moved away from him and absently picked up his
cloak, draping it about her shoulders for warmth. "I do not believe that is your true reason, Judah."

"What do you believe my motives are?" he asked,
thinking how adorable she looked with his black cloak
dragging the floor.

"I believe you are doing this to get back at Bandera and
Sebastian for hurting you."

"Do you think I would go that far to revenge myself on
your sister?"

"I . . . it doesn't make sense, does it?"

"No, not really."

"Then give me a reason, Judah."

He dropped down on the sofa and patted the cushion
beside him. "Come sit with me, and I will tell you some of my reasons."

Reluctantly, she complied. Sitting stiffly on the edge of
the sofa, she waited for him to continue. "Liberty, in truth, I find you to be exactly the kind of wife I would
like to have. You are young and lovely. You are intelli
gent, and you wont bore me on those long winter nights
when we are forced to endure each other's company." In a move that took her by surprise, he pulled her to him and
softly brushed her mouth with his. "And you already know the most obvious reason, Liberty."

Her face burned, and she turned away from him. But
he would not be put off. Forcing her to look at him, he
continued. "Liberty, I am going to join Andrew Jackson's forces tomorrow." He hated playing on her sympathy, but
he saw no other way. "I may not come out of this alive,
so-"

"Judah," she cried out, placing her hand over his mouth. "Do not say that. Never say that!"

"It's true, Liberty. If I don't come back, I would like to
know that my mother and grandfather are taken care of. They both love you, Liberty." He looked at her through lowered lashes. "You would take care of them for me,
wouldn't you?"

"Of course, but you don't have to marry me for that. I will always care what happens to them."

"Yes, but as my wife, you would be safe also."

"But, Judah."

"No more arguments, Liberty. Suppose you run up
stairs and get your own cloak. I have brought a horse for
you to ride. If you hurry, we can be at Bend of the River
within the hour."

"I did not say I would — "

He stood up and pushed her toward the door. "Hurry, I
do not have much time before I must join Andrew Jackson."

He watched different emotions play across her face.
First indecision, then fear and uncertainty. "I shouldn't,
Judah. You haven't given me one good reason to — "

He pushed her toward the door. "I will be waiting for you out front—don't disappoint me."

Hesitantly, she moved across the room. Her heart was
pounding in her ears. Wasn't this what she had wanted
from the first night she had met Judah? What difference
did it make that he was marrying her for all the wrong
reasons? What mattered was that he wanted her for his wife.

When she reached the stairs, her feet flew. She was afraid Judah would change his mind. She paused at
Bandera's door, wondering whether to tell her sister, but decided against it. She would leave a note for Bandera to
find in the morning.

Happiness crept into her heart. God was in his heaven tonight, because before the sun rose in the morning, she
would be Judah's wife.

Judah stood beside the horses and stared into the night.
He waited, counting the minutes, fearing that when Liberty had had time to think, she would refuse his offer. In
truth, he did not make sure that she would be cared for,
should anything happen to him. He knew, if the worst
happened, his grandfather would see to Liberty if she was
his wife.

A chilled wind blew off the Mississippi, and Judah
huddled beneath his cloak. In the far distance he thought
he heard the sound of gunfire. It increased his urgent need to marry Liberty and make sure she was safely at Bend of the River.

The front door opened, and Judah waited for Liberty to reach his side. With a smile, he helped her mount. "I am glad you accepted my offer. I feared you would not."

"I do not know why I did, Judah," she said in a small
voice. "You are a very persuasive man."

He chuckled and made her a formal bow. "Behold your wedding night, Mademoiselle Liberty. The time to flee is
now —if you stay, you will belong to me and I will keep
you forever."

The thought of belonging to Judah made her feel warm
and safe. "I have nowhere to run, Judah. It is you who
has made the bad bargain. I hope you will remember that
you insisted I marry you. Do you forget that I am called
the 'ice princess' ?"

His laughter was deep as he swung into the saddle. "Do
you forget? Twice I held the ice maiden in my arms, and
she thawed so completely that she burned her brand on me."

16

Judah led Liberty into the huge salon where the wedding
was to take place. She stared at the canopy of fresh flowers that filled the room with their gentle scent, suspecting that
Gabrielle was responsible for them.

Gabrielle, looking lovely in a pale peach gown, rushed
forward to embrace her. "When Judah told me his plans
this afternoon, I so hoped he would be able to persuade
you to become a part of our family, my dear. You are very
precious to us all."

Before Liberty could answer, Gustave bellowed out in a loud voice. "Bring her to me." He waved his cane in the air. "Let me inform her of what she is getting into by marrying
this grandson of mine." The soft light in his eyes belied
his gruff words. One only had to look at the rare smile that
creased his face to know he was pleased about the upcom
ing nuptials.

Judah laughed at his grandfather. "Would you scare
Liberty away before I have her safely tied to me?"

"No, I would not, you young pup, and do you know
why?" Liberty stood before Gustave, and he reached out
and took her hand in his. "Because she is the best thing
that ever happened to you. She might just be your salva
tion."

Liberty was accustomed to Gustave's teasing manner, but
this time she blushed prettily. She was surprised to be
welcomed with such obvious approval.

"Well get on with it," Gustave said, pointing a finger at
the priest who hovered near the warm fire. "I want to see
my grandson married so I can go to bed and get my rest. It
is much too late for an old man like me to be socializing."

When Judah removed Liberty's cloak and handed it to the downstairs maid, she looked down at her unadorned
blue gown, wishing she had taken the time to change into
something more suitable. She had often fantasized about
becoming Judah's wife, but in those fantasies, she had always worn white satin.

As though Judah had read her mind, he smiled at
Liberty encouragingly. "You would look lovely no matter
what you wore. Come," he said, holding out his hand and
leading her beneath the canopy of flowers. Gabrielle
handed Liberty a bouquet of flowers, while Gustave looked
on, his eyes shining expectantly.

Liberty caught the warm glow in Judah's eye when he smiled at her, and when his hand encased hers, she felt a
thrill go through her body. As the priest spoke the words
that would tie them together, Judah stared at Liberty, his
heart gladdened because the woman he loved was about to
become his.

The priest blessed them both, and in a deep, clear voice recited the beautiful, timeless words—cherish . . . love . . .
honor. All too soon it was over, and Judah slipped a ring
on Liberty's finger—she was his wife!

After they had received the final blessing from the priest,
Judah gathered Liberty in a warm embrace and she was
momentarily lost to everything but his nearness. His breath
stirred against her ear as he spoke. "You have me tied to
you now, Madame Slaughter."

"Oui,"
she whispered, so only he could hear. "But what
am I going to do with you?"

Judah laughed, and she felt warmth wash over her. A
half-wicked light burned in his eyes. "I am sure we could
think of something. I have several good ideas."

Judah bent his head and briefly brushed his mouth
against Liberty's. When he released her, she suddenly
remembered there were others in the room. Turning to her new mother-in-law, she was wrapped in a hug, while Judah
received the congratulations of his grandfather and the
priest.

"This is a happy day for me, Liberty. I have my son back, and you are everything I could hope for in a
daughter." Gabrielle's eyes were shining with tears. "I wish
your father could have been here tonight. I believe he would have given you his blessing."

"I believe he would have liked Judah,
Madame."

"No, no, you must call me,
M'mere."
Gabrielle's eyes
took on a faraway look, as if she were remembering something. "I believe that would also please Louis."

"I want to talk to my new granddaughter!" Gustave demanded, pounding his cane against the floor. "Liberty,
bring me a glass of wine, and sit beside me for a moment."

Gabrielle laughed. "You had better do as he says. We in
this house are all subservient to his wishes."

Several servants were hurriedly laying a table with crystal
and silver, placing cake and wine in the center. Gabrielle
handed Liberty two glasses of wine, then nodded in the
direction of her father. "He is very fond of you, my dear.
You have always been one of his favorite people. Talk with
him for a moment."

As Liberty went over to the fireplace, she noticed that
Judah was talking with the priest. She seated herself beside
Monsieur Gustave and handed him a glass of wine.

"Tonight is a proud night for me," Gustave declared,
drinking the wine in one gulp and holding his glass out for his daughter to refill. "If there were not a war going on, I
would throw wide the doors of Bend of the River and we would celebrate for a week. It isn't every day one's only
grandson takes a wife."

"The doctor said you could only have one glass of wine
a day, Papa," Gabrielle reminded him. "This is your second
glass," she said, filling it only half-full.

Gustave waved his daughter aside and turned his atten
tion back to Liberty. "I suppose with two women living in
the house, you will both make my life unbearable. I hope
you will not want to put ruffles and slipcovers on the
furniture."

Liberty looked troubled for a moment as her eyes sought Judah's. "I will not be living here,
Monsieur,
I cannot leave
Briar Oaks at this time. There is too much work to be done."

"What's this?" the old man said, looking at his grand
son. "Surely you will not allow your wife to live under the
same roof as Sebastian."

Judah raised an eyebrow at his grandfather. "I appreciate
your concern, Grandfather, but where my wife lives is my
concern, not yours." He lifted his wineglass and smiled.
"To Madame Liberty Slaughter, my wife!"

"Very well, enough has been said for now," Gustave
agreed grudgingly, knowing he should not press the issue at
this time. After all, he had already won a decisive battle tonight; Liberty had become Judah's wife. "Call Moses,"
Gustave told his daughter. "It is four hours past my bedtime."

Gabrielle laughed at Liberty. "I had better do as he says.
When he has had a full night's rest, he is hard enough to
live with; heaven only knows what kind of bear he will be
tomorrow."

Soon the room had been cleared of family and servants,
and only Judah and Liberty remained. She was sitting
stiffly before the roaring fireplace, while Judah moved to sit beside her. "It seems we are alone, Liberty," he said,
taking a sip of wine.

"I . . . yes. Judah, everything has happened so fast, I
suppose I wasn't thinking clearly. I brought nothing to . . .
sleep in. I don't even know where I am supposed to sleep."

He smiled, thinking that she appeared to be a lost little
girl at the moment. "I believe it is customary for a bride to
sleep with her husband." His eyes met hers and he wanted
to wipe the uncertainty from them. "It is expected that we
will occupy the same bed, you know."

Liberty stood up and rubbed the palms of her hands
together nervously. "I didn't even tell Bandera I was coming
here. I left her a note, but she might be worried when she
reads it in the morning."

Judah leaned back and allowed his coat to fall open. He
reached up and untied his cravat, while he watched her
through lowered lashes. "Liberty, come here. Sit beside me
for a moment so we can talk."

Reluctantly, she dropped down onto the sofa, an arm's
length away from Judah, and waited for him to speak.

"Would you feel better if we went to Briar Oaks and spent the night?"

"I . . . no." She licked her dry lips. "That is
...
I could
go home alone tonight and then . . . tomorrow — "

His voice held a hint of a smile. "No, Liberty. This is our wedding night. Is it too much to expect to spend it with my wife?"

She drew in an apprehensive breath. "I suppose it will be
all right, but as I said, I did not come prepared."

He reached for her hand, stood up, and drew her along
with him. "I believe there is no problem that cannot be
overcome." His arm slipped around her shoulder, and he
led her across the room, then down the long hall toward the stairs.

Liberty was almost giddy with excitement. The love she
felt for Judah was like a pain in her heart. She stopped on
the landing and glanced up at him. "Judah, I am unpre
pared to be a wife. I know nothing about the duties of a
married woman. My mother never talked to me about the
relationship between a man and a woman."

Amusement danced in his eyes. "What a good happenstance. I shall just train you myself." Then he sobered. "I
remember a sassy little girl who thought man-woman
relationships were amusing. Have you changed your mind?"

She raised her chin and met his eyes. "Judah, I thought I knew all the answers then. Now, I do not even know the
questions, and I am . . . frightened."

His heart melted at her strangled admission, and he took
her cold hand in his, slowly leading her toward his bed
room, which had been hurriedly prepared while the wed
ding was taking place. "Do you trust me, Liberty?"

"Oui,"
she said without hesitation.

"I am glad, because I hope never to do anything to cause you to change your mind." They had reached his bedroom, and he raised her hand to his lips while looking deeply into
her eyes. "Nothing will happen tonight that you do not want to happen. Do you understand me, Liberty? I want
to be so much more to you than just your husband. I want
to be your best friend. I believe we were friends from the
first night we met, don't you?"

She nodded.

His laughter was soft. "I feel like I am having a brilliant
conversation with myself."

By now they were in his room, and he closed the door behind them. A single candle was burning on the bedside
table, and a quick glance told Liberty that the bedcovers
on the massive bed had been turned down. She vaguely assessed the furnishings, and found it to be a man's room,
decorated in creams and browns.

"Well, it would seem my mother thought of everything,"
Judah said, picking up the pink satin gown and robe that
were draped over the foot of the bed. A smile played on his
lips as he looked at the provocative gown and then turned
back to Liberty. "Do you think this will suffice?"

Liberty was nervously moving about the room, rearrang
ing a vase of flowers, tilting an already straight painting
that hung on the wall. She stopped when she came to the
heavy cream-colored curtains, and ran her fingers over the
material.
"Oui,
that will do nicely," she whispered through
stiff lips.

Judah moved leisurely toward the door. "I believe it is a custom for the bridegroom to allow the bride time to make
herself . . . comfortable. Suppose I give you ten minutes?"

Liberty turned her back and gazed out the window. In
the far distance she could vaguely see the Mississippi. How
much a part of her life that muddy river had been. She had
played on its banks, boated on its waters, and eaten fish she had caught there. Tonight, for some reason, she felt like a stranger to the familiar river.

Tonight she was a stranger to herself. She had agreed to marry Judah, knowing he didn't love her. She was leaving
herself open for hurt and disappointment. Whatever hap
pened in the future, she had no one to blame but herself.