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expression and the damp gown clinging to her slender body, that her mother's heart softened. "Do not distress yourself. I do not have the time to go into this with you at the moment. Sebastian Montesquieu will be dining with us tonight, and I want you to make a passable impression on him. I will set your punishment at a later time."
    Liberty was flooded with relief, for her mother would be so caught up in helping Bandera impress Sebastian that she would soon forget her displeasure. This was the way it always ended, her mother showing disapproval and then letting the matter drop until Liberty disgraced herself again.
    Sometimes Liberty wished her mother would punish her, that at least would mean she was aware that Liberty was alive. She would have liked to have told her mother all that had happened today, but she feared her mother would never again allow her to go into the swamps.
    She watched her mother advance toward her. Ursula Boudreaux owed her black hair and striking good looks to her Spanish blood. Her soft classic features set her apart from most other women. She had been married to an impoverished young Spaniard in her youth, but he had died of the flux shortly before Bandera was born, leaving his young wife destitute. When Bandera was six years old, Ursula had met and married Louis Boudreaux, and Lib erty was the issue from their union.
    "Get out of those wet clothes before you catch your death," her mother scolded, brushing Liberty aside and stepping out the door. "I'll send Oralee up with hot water for your bath," she called over her shoulder, before disappearing down the hallway.
    Liberty wished she could tell someone about her excit ing afternoon, about meeting Zippora. She glanced down at the ring that sparkled on her finger. She would tell Bandera about her adventure!
    She bolted out of her room, and paused before her sister's bedroom. Hearing her mother's voice, she realized Ursula must have gone directly to Bandera's room. When Liberty heard her name spoken, she knew her mother and sister were discussing her. She closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to hear what was being said, and yet, she was unable to shut out their voices.
    "I simply do not know what you are going to do about Liberty, Maman. She is becoming a constant embarrass ment to us all. Why do you not send her away to a school for young ladies and see if they can smooth off the rough edges? Something has got to be done . . . and soon. She goes abroad heedless of her toilette. Even if she is a homely little mouse, she would be more presentable if she would take more time with her appearance."
    Liberty backed away, but not before she heard her mother's reply. "You should not speak unkindly of your sister. Besides, Louis has forbidden me to punish her. He says she is a lively child and I am not to crush her spirit."
    "Papa indulges her too much in this folly. He does not realize that Liberty is growing up. I wish he would treat me more like he does Liberty. She is his little darling. He would keep her in baby silk and pamper her shamelessly, while he hardly knows I am alive."
    "Do not say that. Your stepfather has been kind to you. Has he not been like a real father to you, Bandera?"
    "I never receive imported silks, bonnets, and shoes like all my friends. Sometimes I am embarrassed to appear in public in my pathetic rags."
    "Nonsense, you have lovely gowns. Louis is more than generous with you. Goodness knows he never denies you when you ask for something."
    Liberty could hear her sister's voice rise in volume. "We are in dire straits. There is never enough money for me to do the things my friends do."
    "There, there, ma chere. You must not cry or your eyes will be red. Your stepfather does the best he can. He cannot help it if the last five crops have failed. I have hopes that, in time, Briar Oaks will shine again."
    "I do not have time to wait for that to happen —if it ever does. I am twenty-three. Most of my friends are already married, and have