Read Colorblind (Moonlight) for Free Online Page B

bullwhip at her back had been because of him. Old Ma had been called to the plantation house. She’d been alone, on a day very like this one, watching the pot. The moment she’d seen his blond head making its way toward the slave quarters, she’d known he was coming to her.
    He’d stopped directly before her, sneering down at her as she watched him with the curiosity of a child.
    “Up, girl,” she remembered him saying in a voice that had yet to mature. He must have been sixteen or younger, already with much hatred in his heart. She’d obeyed, and against instinct, had followed him as he entered the empty slave quarters. He’d tried to rape her, thinking that her smaller build and status as a slave would make her submissive. She’d fought him, her sharp nails digging deep grooves into his side before managing to run away. She’d run all the way to the plantation house, waiting at the side door for Hyacinth to emerge. Once she had, Penny had collapsed into tears, and told her everything. That evening, Pleasant had come to her quarters with Adam, dragged her out, and beat her until the skin separated from her back. He hadn’t said why, and no one had dared ask, but she’d known.
    As the memories assaulted her, she closed her eyes, feeling rage wash over her body. It had hurt, but her tolerance for pain was higher than most of the slaves, and she’d taken it in silence, tears streaming down her face as she bit into her lip. When he finished, Old Ma had tended Penny herself, placing a thick salve over the wounds and watching as it healed before her eyes.
    “Leon Arnaud seems kind,” Hyacinth said, pulling her away from the burning rage she still held for Adam. For all of his sins, Adam’s death had been too quick, too kind.
    “He is.” Penny hadn’t told anyone of his true reason for being at the plantation. Not even Hyacinth.
    Hyacinth gave her a long look before she said, “Be careful, my girl. There are dozens of eyes watching you. Many are enemies, not friends.”
    Penny nodded. “Yes, Old Ma.”
    “Good,” Hyacinth said, reclining back in the chair. “Check the pot for me. I think it’s finished.”
    ***
    “So, local gossip tells me that you’re from quite a prominent family in France, Monsieur Arnaud?”
    Catherine Ryder was what could be termed a traditional Southern lady. He’d come to recognize them in his weeks in Louisiana. They were the daughters and wives of plantation owners, always properly put together and perfectly demure. Some were beautiful, like Catherine, with her blond curls and blue eyes, while others simply commanded attention because they believed it was deserved.
    “I guess we are what some would call prominent,” Leon responded with a cool smile. Supper was over, and he was now in the salon with Patrick Ryder and his daughter.
    “You guess?” Catherine said with a soft, tinkling laugh. “My sources tell me your family is related to your current president.”
    “Catherine,” Patrick Ryder chastised with an affectionate shake of his white-haired head.
    It was obvious Ryder was the doting father where his daughter was concerned. During dinner, Leon learned that her mother had passed when she was younger so she had been raised by her father and an aunt, who no longer lived with them. Catherine was also his only child—his only legitimate one—and stood to inherit this plantation and another he owned in Georgia.
    “I’m but curious, Father,” Catherine replied with a smile. She lifted her glass of sherry to her lips and blinked coquettishly. “So, Monsieur Arnaud, are you going to answer my question?”
    “Connections, perhaps, but we are of no relation, Miss Catherine,” Leon replied. It was true. His father was involved in politics so there were naturally connections to Napoleon Bonaparte, but as Bonaparte was quite human despite his own belief, and they were not, the connection ended there.
    “Oh, we are neighbors. You may call me Catherine if I may do the same