Colorblind (Moonlight) (21 page)

“And you want this?”

Julia closed her eyes and nodded. “Yes, Massa.”

“For your sister?”

She answered in the affirmative once more, praying he didn’t try to kiss her. He could use her body, do whatever he wanted, but if he tried to kiss her, she prayed her control was enough to take it.

His weight was suddenly gone and she opened her eyes, peering about in the dark for the shadow that would show her where he was. He stood by one of the windows, his naked silhouette outlined by the soft but slight moonlight spilling into his room.

“Put your clothes on, Julia.”

Shocked, she remained still. White men usually found her attractive. Irresistible, some had called her, yet he didn’t want her?

“Now, Julia.” His voice wasn’t harsh, but it was commanding.

Quickly, quietly, she slipped from the bed and found her gown, slipping it over her head. She felt around for the shawl and draped it across her shoulders. He was rejecting her, and she was embarrassed.

“I sorry, Massa,” she managed, and then she practically ran for the door. Before she made it, he was at her back.

“I don’t want you to give yourself to me out of fear for your sister.” His breath caressed her neck and although she shuddered in revulsion, something else was there. “When you give yourself to me, you’ll do so because you want me, because you can’t help yourself.”

His hand slipped around her to open the door, brushing her waist in the process. Julia stepped forward, but stopped as he spoke once more. “As to your sister, I can’t promise much but I will try to have her brought here before we leave for the North.”

Julia felt tears prick the backs of her eyes. The burn intensified and she sniffed before turning to face him. She could see nothing of his expression in the dark. Before she could think it through, she hugged him quickly, pulling away immediately.

“Thank you, Massa,” she murmured, and then shocked at her behavior, fled from his room.

***

“No!”

Leon ignored her as he continued penning the letter to his brother. He was offering another slave for sale, for a very reasonable price.

“I’m not leaving,” Penny continued, glaring down at him. “Simply because Ryder wants to purchase me? He’s wanted to do that for years, even before you came here.”

“Patrick Ryder offered to pay eight hundred dollars for you, Penny.” He paused and lifted his head from the ink-blotted paper. She was staring incredulously at him, as expected. He continued writing. “I see you understand what that means.”

“Eight hundred dollars?” She collapsed into one of his chairs.

“Yes.” He stopped to stare at her and add, “He offered seven to start.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “But he must know something.” Lowering the quill, he moved over to her. “I would rather have him know something with you far away, than with you here. Do you understand me?”

“But we’re assuming—”

“Yes, we’re assuming, Penny, but you’re leaving as soon as Armand or Étienne can get here. I won’t have you here if Ryder so much as suspects there is something different about you.”

“What about you?”

“I can handle myself.” Perhaps he should have said it in a different way because Penny’s eyes flared.

“And I can’t?” she practically screeched.

Before he could respond, she jumped up, put space between them, and bared her teeth. “I was looking after myself just fine before you got here, Leon Arnaud!”

“I know—”

“And I’m sure if you weren’t here, I would still be doing the same.”

“Penny, you’re my mate—”

“I know, Leon!” She shook her head. “Patrick Ryder has been after me for a long time. Adam used to threaten me with him as long as I can remember. Ryder’s probably just desperate—”

It didn’t appease him any to learn Patrick Ryder was obsessed with his mate. Without knowing it, Penny was reaffirming his decision to get her away from the other man. “I won’t risk it. You’re leaving—”

“I refuse to go,” she snapped, eyes flashing yellow at him.

Leon was in front of her in a second, pressing her back against the door as he spoke, softly but forcefully, “You
will
leave here when my brother comes for you. Do you understand me?”

“No!” she hissed. “You can’t make me leave yo—”

“Yes, I can.” He hadn’t wanted to go there, but once spoken, the words hung between the two of them, setting them into the two categories he’d avoided from the moment he’d met her. Master and slave; slave and master.

Leon saw hurt in her eyes before she lowered them, and steeled himself against it. She had to leave, and if this was the only way she would, then so be it.

Penny didn’t speak for long moments and then she nodded once. “As you wish, Massa.”

He tried to enter her mind but found himself blocked. Stepping away, he ran a hand across his face and moved back to his desk.

“May I leave, Massa?” Penny asked from where she remained against the door.

“Penny, this has to be done.”

“Of course, Massa.”

“Penny!”

“May I leave, Massa?”

He nodded and before he could say another word, she slipped from the study. Leon remained staring at the door, wondering when or if she was going to forgive him for this.

She had to. He was her mate, and everything he did, he did to protect her. He just hoped she realized it soon.

Chapter Thirteen

Leon eyed the drunken, sprawled-out men around him dispassionately. It was Saturday and he’d accompanied Ryder to Madame Touilleur’s, a gentleman’s establishment on the outskirts of New Orleans. France had its share of whorehouses but most of the women there were protected by the madame and paid well for their labor. Madame Touilleur’s had no rules, and for Patrick Ryder and his peers, that was the allure.

A hand clapped his shoulder, returning him to a scene in which he’d rather not take part.

“That busty one is eyeing you, Arnaud.”

This came from the balding, pudgy man who was one of his neighbors. Leon hadn’t bothered to remember his name. Fat, stubby fingers pointed and Leon looked in the direction. A curvaceous woman, paler in complexion than even Julia but with full, prominent features, winked at him. She wore a blond wig and so much powder she could probably bake a cake.

His companions must have noticed the man pointing because they began calling out suggestions that would never be heard in polite company.

“Paler these niggers is, bolder they are,” the pudgy man confided. “Got to teach them their place.”

“Maybe she’s looking at you,” Leon retorted evenly, turning his attention to where Patrick Ryder sat opposite him. The man had already consumed a hefty amount of alcohol, and his gaze kept trailing the thin, dark-skinned girl who brought them their drinks. Leon doubted she was one of Madame Touilleur’s whores, but Patrick Ryder didn’t seem to care. The sad thing was despite that, if Ryder asked the Madame for her, he was certain to get her.

“Think so?” He returned his attention to the man beside him. “I’ve been wanting one of them like that. Can’t do everything I want with the wife.” He cackled and clapped Leon on the back again. “Don’t get married. Stuck with a cold bitch is all you get from it.” A burp escaped him and he guffawed. “And some land too.”

“I believe she’s beckoning you over.” He gave the man a good shove to get him to his feet and moving to the blonde. Like a pro, she shifted her attention away from Leon as the other man approached, turning her allure his way.

Standing, Leon grabbed his drink and moved over to Ryder. Taking a seat next to him, he followed Ryder’s gaze—still riveted on the girl, who was growing more and more fidgety around him—and said, “Pretty. Too bad she’s not one of the Madame’s girls.”

Ryder only turned to him and leered. “Money can buy anything.” With that, he turned back to the girl and held up his glass. She approached him cautiously, tipping the decanter to fill his glass. Ryder’s hand instantly cupped her bottom, and she jumped away, spilling some of the liquid onto the floor. She passed him a glare, but then apologized and finished pouring his drink.

“You’re interested in the slave?” Leon asked, forcing as much incredulity as he could into his voice. “In the midst of all of these finely dressed women, you want the slave girl?”

A loud laugh greeted his question and Ryder returned his attention to him. His eyes were a bit glazed over. “Most of them are whores, Arnaud. Professionals trained to do whatever I want. I don’t want them. I want someone who’ll fight me, who needs to be broken in. Her.”

Leon didn’t say anything. He was too disgusted so he sipped on his brandy.

“I know you understand.”

“Excuse me?” Ryder had spoken so softly if not for his superior abilities, Leon wouldn’t have heard it.

“What?” Ryder replied with a little smile.

“You said something,” Leon pressed.

Ryder chuckled and nodded. “I said I know you understand the allure.” When Leon stared blankly at him, he shook his head and grinned. “Penny. You’re fucking her.”

Crude words from a crude man were always expected. “I’m not—”

“No need to deny it to me. I get it. Pretty but stubborn. Walks around like she’s
better
than a white man. Did you break her yet?” He drew in a deep, ragged breath as if imaging how it would feel. “Did she fight you? She always seemed like a fighter—”

Leon saw red, but luckily for Ryder, one of the girls moving around the room took that moment to throw herself in his lap. A few seductive words and caresses later and she was gone. And so was Leon’s need to rip the bastard’s throat out. At least, for now.

“What about the shifters, Mr. Ryder? Have you learned anything else of them?”

Ryder’s smile fell before he looked around and moved closer to Leon. “I’m closer to proving it. Its voodoo, I say. Niggers shifting to animals and back, probably trying to kill us with their magic.”

“Closer?” Leon questioned softly, sipping his drink and trying to look both interested and yet skeptical. He tried to enter the man’s mind once more, but once more, found himself blocked.

Nodding, Ryder continued, “Closer. Shifters right under my nose and I didn’t even know it.”

“Really? Who?”

Suddenly, the man stood and looked down at him. “You think I’m a crazy old man, Arnaud, but I’m not. Soon, you and everyone will see.” He grinned and looked around, pinpointing the servant girl. Moving in that direction, he cornered her. Shaking his head in disgust, Leon looked away.

What did Ryder mean by “shifters right under his nose?” Was he talking about Penny? Was that why he’d offered so much money for her? Had someone told Ryder off on his mate? Penny had said the slaves in her quarters knew about her. Perhaps one of them?

He felt a chill snake up his spine. He’d sent out his missive two days ago. It would get there in about three more days, and if his brothers were still at the plantation in Virginia, which he prayed they were, it would take another week for Étienne to return. Almost two weeks. That seemed too long, especially with Ryder’s recent comment. He wanted Penny away from here as soon as possible. Even if he had to take her himself.

***

Penny was restless. It had been four days since her conversation with Leon, four days since she’d spoken to him beyond the “yes, Massa; no Massa” responses, four days since she’d been in his bed, taken him into her body, felt him caress her mind. Four days since frowns had become his way of greeting with her. She didn’t care. He’d hurt her.

From the moment she’d met Leon Arnaud, he’d treated her as his equal. Even if society didn’t think it, the fact that Leon saw past her skin color was enough for her. Four days ago, when he’d thrown around his superiority,
his status
, to get his way, she’d felt as if he’d yanked something precious from her. In a way, he had. He’d reminded her that in spite of his views, beliefs, and his
were
nature, he was still her master, and she his slave. He could do whatever he wanted with her—send her away on a whim, kill her even—and he would be right in the eyes of the law. She’d forgotten that. Briefly.

Only slightly did it appease her that Leon was doing this for her. He feared for her safety, feared Patrick’s Ryder’s very enthusiastic interest in her. She groaned as she rolled over on her uncomfortable cot. It was just after midnight and the slaves were all asleep. By now, and before the incident with Leon, she would be wrapped in his arms, fast asleep or getting there.

She missed him. She missed his conversation, his infectious smile, the way he looked at her like she was the only woman in his world…and that irritated her. He hadn’t apologized for using his status to get his way, and yet she missed him. Craved him in a way that bordered on the painful.

With a frustrated sigh, she sat up. She was contemplating slipping from the window, defying Leon and going for a quick run when she heard them. Voices. Far away. Penny caught words and fragments before she closed her eyes and focused.

I don’t see nothin’.

There was a slight rustling sound—like fallen leaves.

You see anythin’ boy?

No, sir. I don’ see nothin’, sir.

Dammit, boy. Talk lower. We watchin’ for wild animals. Don’t want none of ’em sneakin’ up on us ’cause of you.

Penny’s brows furrowed even as a chill snaked down her spine. These men were on Leon’s property, possibly hidden in the woods that preceded the bayou. One had said they were watching for wild animals.

It was possible they were hunters poaching on Leon’s territory but intuition told Penny that wasn’t the case. In the years she’d lived here and roamed these grounds, she’d never encountered a poacher.

Stop fidgetin’, boy.

I’s sorry, sir, but I gotta pee.

The other man released a stream of curses.
Hurry it up, boy. You ain’t gonna be seein’ nothin’ facin’ some tree
.

There was a slightly rustling and Penny heard the sound of water falling against leaves. She tried to pinpoint other sounds that would tell her if there were more people, but heard nothing.