Underground Captive (27 page)

"Patricia," he whispered.  "I need you, Patricia."

Nicollette's smile vanished.  She looked pensively at him as he thrashed about.

"I miss you.  For...forgive me, Pa-Pa-tri-cia."  He fell silent and still once

more.

    
             
Nicollette swallowed hard, lest the lump in her throat surely come up.  Hearing Jared call another woman's name sent pain slicing through her heart.  She watched the rise and fall of his chest as he drew slow, even breaths.  Odessa's words were true.  Jared would be fine.

   
             
Now, she worried about herself.  She didn't know what to do or how to feel at learning Jared belonged to another.  From the desperation in his voice, he had to have a special relationship with Patricia.

    
             
Patricia should be here, not me
.  Bitter tears burned the back of her eyes.  Angry with herself for caring at all about Jared Fleming, she drew forth her strength from that anger.

She allowed the anger to replace the pain and she immediately channeled

that anger to him, rising from the chair.  Her back stiff with pride, she departed the room with her head held high.

    
             
"Angus!" she yelled. 
"Angus
!"  She was not about to go from door to door searching for the man.  She'd rouse the entire house if she had to.  Indeed her angry calls were enough to rouse the dead.

    
             
"Mum'zelle?"  Angus rushed from his chamber, sleep in his voice.  "Ye col'?"

    
             
"I'd advise you to keep watch on your master,
Monsieur
.  I don't have time to waste my sleep on a rogue such as he!  Please get him well as soon as possible so he can vacate my home!"  She walked down the hallway to her door without a single word more.

    
             
After wasting her emotions and exhausting herself physically to save him, he had another? Wondering where his precious Patricia was, she fumed as she lay in her bed once she'd changed into a cotton nightrail. 
Who is Patricia, anyway?  Why should it matter to me?  But it does!  He'd sounded so tortured.  What in God's name happened between them to wound him so
?

    
             
Jealousy, raw and unequaled to anything she'd ever felt, raced through her.  When she had seen him in the canebrake, her feelings of uncertainty had dissolved like mist on a sunny day.  Likewise, when she returned with his servants she hadn't expected her reaction at seeing his almost lifeless body.  Feelings of dread came over her and she feared for his life.  She suddenly felt protective toward him, like a mother protecting a wayward son who had nowhere else to turn.  Furthermore, she betrayed her father, practically stealing Odessa, her father's
property
, to come to Jared's aid!

    
             
But her father would have been proud of how she took charge to save Jared's life, she reasoned.  The only thing he would have been displeased about was her leaving Crescent Wood instead of allowing the slaves to do all the running around.

    
             
Well, he wouldn't find out what an active role she or Odessa played.  However, if it became necessary, she'd tell her Pa Pa she had sent Zeke to the city to summon Doctor Caron and Jared's four servants to Crescent Wood.

    
             
Tears of anger and humiliation stung her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.

She cursed Jared for making her cry over him.  She cursed him for the

kiss he gave her seemingly ages ago, but which in actuality had only been the day before yesterday.  But, most of all, she cursed him for not calling out for
her
with such emotion, as he had called out for Patricia.

    
             
At that moment, she crossed herself and spoke into the night.  "
Merci le bon Dieu
that
Monsieur
Fleming didn't die.  If he had, he'd never know the intensity of my feelings.  Please don't let him die! He must live to know how I despise him!"

*  *  *

    
             
Jared moaned and opened his eyes.  For a few seconds he was disoriented, until he saw Angus.

    
             
"Master Jared!"  Angus looked down at him with fatherly concern.  "'Ow do ye feel, sir?"

    
             
"Milord, ye're noot dead.  When I saw ye so still I kenned we be starin' at a corpse!" Mary Douglas said with tears in her eyes.

    
             
"I-I'm glad to disappoint ye, Mary."  Jared smiled weakly and surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings.  "Where am I?"

"Master, ye're at Crescent Wood," Hugh answered.

    
             
"Aye, master.  'Tis Tuesday afternoon," Robert volunteered.  "Ye've been unconscious nigh unto two and a half days, now."

             
"Crescent Wood?"  Jared attempted to sit up.  Angus and Mary Douglas assisted and propped him up on several pillows.  "The Duplantier plantation?"    
             
His shoulder hurt like hell, he was hungry and weak from lack of activity and loss of blood.

    
             
"Aye, master," Angus replied.  "One and the same."

"Mary?"

    
             
The door burst opened.  Nicollette stood in the doorway wearing a pale pink day dress trimmed in white lace.

 
             
Her eyes were puffy from her lack of rest.  Nicki had stayed up the entire night in tortured bemusement.  She was curious about Patricia but her pride would never allow her to question Jared.  She was worried about him and wanted assurance that he was well.  Confusion over her conflicting emotions had her severely aggravated and her jealousy had her irrational.

    
             
Catching sight of him propped up in bed and wearing one of her Pa Pa’s nightshirts, she narrowed her gaze.  "I see
Monsieur
Fleming has awakened.  Please, rest this evening,
Monsieur
, because tomorrow I shall have you and your servants driven back to your home.”  She pointed a finger in the direction of Jared's servants.  "You people may return to your rooms.  He doesn't need all of this attention!" Without one look back she turned and swept out of the room.

    
             
"Nicollette is right," Jared said once he got over his surprise at her outburst.  "Ye all need yer rest for our journey tomorrow.  Later, ye can fill me in on the details of how I came to be here."

19    

Nicollette watched Sophie carry Jared's supper tray from his guestchamber and her face creased in concern.  He had barely touched the contents, even though he professed hunger.  Stealing quietly into the chamber, she found Jared sleeping as peacefully as a babe.  She stood over him and placed her hand on his forehead, a gesture that, for her, had become routine over the past two days.

His forehead was cool.  His fever had broken.

    
             
Drawing her hand away, she turned to leave, but a tight hold fastened around her wrist.  Turning to the bed again, she looked down into Jared's clear eyes.  Molten liquid coursed throughout her body.  She should have been immune to him, but she wasn't.

    
             
"I see
Monsieur
is better," she said coolly, wishing her feelings resembled her tone.

He nodded, refusing to give up his hold on her.

    
             
"I am glad," she said sincerely.  At the moment she couldn't summon her anger.  His touch sent shivers along her spine.

    
             
Drawing her onto the bed, he released her wrist.  "I'd like to thank ye for everything ye've done for me,
Mademoiselle
Duplantier.   If ye ever want anything from me, whatever it may be, do not hesitate to ask."

    
             
Dieu de ciel
!  How weak he still looked.  Her hurt and anger should have shielded her from pitying him, but, in spite of herself, her heart constricted at the sight.  No one could be more confused with their feelings than she was over Jared, she thought with uncommon self-pity.