Underground Captive (28 page)

Underground Captive
             
             
             
             
             
             
             
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lassie."

    
             
"What did Nicollette do that should concern me?" Jared asked with dread, still not comprehending.

    
             
"I dinna thin' she wants ye tae ken she is the reason ye live today," Angus said.

"One of ye better bloody well tell me what's going on," Jared growled,

exasperated.  "How did Nicollette save my life?"

"I willa tell ye, master," Mary Douglas volunteered.  "Ye were verra close

tae death when the fair lassie returned from the city wi' us.  The lassie made us take off all yer clothes and as ye lay naked she put ice all around ye body."

    
             
"She what?" Jared exclaimed.  "Nicollette...Nicollette had me stripped naked?  And ye let her?"  He mulled it over, then grinned to himself.  The beautiful, little witch really
was
daring.

    
             
"Dinna be shame, master.  She dinna see yer private parts while we were 'ere," Mary Douglas assured him.  "But I did, master.  I'm thanking ye for the privilege, sir.  And now I ken why ye're deserving tae be called master!"  She genuflected and stepped back.

    
             
Jared stifled a laugh at Mary Douglas's remarks.

    
             
"Now, now, Master Jared," Robert began.  "Dinna be angry.  Yer special parts were covered.  Mary Douglas covered ye wi' 'er verra own 'ands.  Noot tae say she used 'er 'ands, sir.  She used 'er 'ands tae cover ye wi' a sheet.  But pay no mind tae Mary Douglas, master.  She's daft as a bird."

    
             
"That she is, master," Hugh agreed.  "Crazy as a loon."

" 'Er brain is addled, master," Robert confirmed.  "But she did 'elp the

poor slave, Odessa I think 'er name was, feed ye a terrible smelling liquid and put some thick, pasty stuff on yer purple shoulder."

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"There was a slave in here?" Jared asked in a low growl.

    
             
"I should say so, master," Mary Douglas informed him matter-of-factly.   "'Tis a plantation in case ye've forgotten."

    
             
"Thank ye, Mary Douglas, for the summary of the master's surroundings," Robert snapped.  "I think 'e ken where 'e is.  I think 'e be wondering what we be doing 'ere while the poor slave was 'elping 'im, ye addled brained bat!"

"Angus, ye stay!  I want to talk to ye!  Everyone else leave us!"

    
             
After a little prodding, Jared learned from Angus that he'd been found by some field hands.  He'd regained consciousness long enough to ask for his servants.

    
             
"The lass came tae the ramparts, master," Angus explained, "forced 'er way inside and demanded we accompany 'er back 'ere.  She took the slave Odessa back wi' us wi'oot 'er father's knowledge or permission.  The lass did what Doctor Caron didn't seem capable o' doing."

"Doctor Caron?"

    
             
"Aye, master.  The doctor left ye tae yer own devices.  Or rather tae the lass's.  'Twas she and Odessa who broke yer fever and stopped the festering.  Saving ye, I'm thinkin', from gangrene.  She brought Odessa back tae New Orleans.  When she returned from the city, the lass demanded that she be alone wi' ye, master."

    
             
"Did she?"  Jared wondered why her combative attitude toward him today had changed so from the compassion she'd displayed.

    
             
"That's the problem.  We're concerned that the lass's Da might somehow learn of 'er indiscretion at being alone wi' ye as ye lay nude on the bed and challenge ye tae another duel."

    
             
"I can see the implication, Angus.   Little Miss Headstrong has, of her own doing, compromised her virtue." 

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"The bonny lass deserves better."

             
"Aye, she does.  I won't betray her, Angus.  I'm in her debt."

    
             
Later, Jared lay awake in his bed trying to sort out the confusion in his mind.  Though he'd accepted Charles's invitation to stay at the plantation, he felt well enough to travel home.  Jared hadn't realized then why he'd accepted, but after talking to Angus he knew his sole reason--Nicollette.

    
             
Nicki defied customs and her father for his sake.  Had it been her feelings that made her help him?  He needed to find out.  She was a source of bewilderment to him.  She touched his heart and stirred his senses.  The weight of bad memories and his never ending sorrow for the horrible way Patricia died often crushed the desirous way he thought of Nicki.

    
             
However, tonight his anticipation at seeing Nicki in the morning replaced those memories.  So, too, were Patricia's visions replaced by visions of Nicki and the remembered feel of her lips against his own.

20

    
             
"It's unimaginable!"  Jacques shouted.  "Unthinkable!"

"We need to put more men on patrol," Henri suggested.  "We need to lay a trap for this Black Rider bastard.  Are you still convinced that he's a Negro, Phillipe?"

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Phillipe ignored Henri's taunt.  "This abolitionist sentiment is getting out of hand.  If we don't stop it now, it will spread like wildfire.  I say we join the patrols and bring along some strong, stout rope, and mete out justice on the spot!"

      
             
Charles cleared his throat.  "
Messieurs
!
Messieurs
, let us be reasonable.  What

you are advocating is nothing more than vigilantism.  My friend, indeed a friend to every man here, Jared" --he acknowledged Jared with a wave of his hand-- "was nearly killed.  As you all know he was found in my very own cane fields grievously wounded.  Left there, I'm thinking, by the Black Rider, who killed the patroller and the tracking dogs."

"All the more reason for us to be concerned," Phillipe countered.

    
             
"Concerned,
oui
, Phillipe, but not lawless," Henri interjected.  "Charles is right.  We'd be no better than the abolitionist dog who committed those foul deeds."

"And don't forget that poor black who was knocked unconscious then bound and gagged," Pierre said.  "Dieu! What kind of monster would do that?"

"An abolitionist monster, that's what kind.  And they say
we're
cruel to

our blacks," Phillipe snorted.  "Between all of us here we lost twenty slaves that night.  Something has to be done.  If things are allowed to continue as they are, I will have nothing to leave my son, Gerard!"

Jared's ears perked.  Twenty?  Nay, he'd only been responsible for five.

Four, after one of the slaves was killed.  Captain Blossom must be in action again. 

    
             
"That's why,
messieurs
, we must act rationally," Charles said.  "We can't put a trap in plain sight.  We still don't know who we're looking for.  If we patrolled every night with tracking dogs this masked brigand wouldn't take the chance of showing his face."

    
             
"Right," Jacques interrupted.  "But if he thought no one was watching for his next move, he just might become careless and give himself away."

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"Exactly," Charles agreed.  "That means we must rely on our most trusted slaves to keep an eye out for dissension among the other blacks.  When they make their move, we'll make ours."

             
Their semblance of a plan satiated their anger and anxieties.  What they proposed wasn't a whole lot different from what was already being done.  But what they didn't know was that their most trusted slaves were the ones helping Jared stay an active conductor on the Underground Railroad.

    
             
'Twas precisely because of that trust and their ages that these slaves were able to practically come and go as they pleased.  Their desire to see younger black men and women gain their freedom was greater than their desire to be free themselves.  What they did was commendable and most dangerous because slaves like the man Hugh had knocked unconscious thought nothing of betraying even their own brother to gain the master's favor. 'Twas these slaves that the plantation masters counted on.

    
             
"So we're all in agreement than that we won't do anything to jeopardize our chances of capturing this bastard?" Phillipe continued.

    
             
"
Oui
," Charles responded.  "But we'll go on as before.  Having no patrols is as bad as having too many.  Either way, he'll know something is afoot."

    
             
"What about the four men who were bound and gagged and left in the thicket?" Pierre asked.   "Couldn't they recognize those two white fellows if they saw them again?"

    
             
"Perhaps.  They were with those fellows the better part of an hour.  But it was cloudy, rainy and dark," Jacques reminded them.

             
"After what happened to that black and to Hollis Franklin they may not want to identify those two fellows," Henri declared.   "Especially not knowing who hides behind that black mask."

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"Well, if that rascal is as smart as he wants us to believe, he knows we won't allow that kind of thing to happen again," Phillipe said, his voice wavering with emotion.   "Not ever! A man is dead.  A good man, I might add.  Three valuable dogs gone and a poor Black hurt. 
Non
messieurs
, we must never let this happen again!"

    
             
"
Non
, Phillipe, never!  Let's not forget Jared and how he was almost killed."

"Really, Charles, I'm fine now," Jared interrupted, weary of the conversation.

"I'm indebted to yer slaves that found me.  Is there any form of reward ye have in mind for them?  I've heard the reward for saving a white man's life is freedom for the slave."

    
             
Everyone looked at Jared in surprise. 

    
             
"Well, Jared," Charles began with a small smile, "I don't know which of my slaves found you.  Even if I did, they merely found you.  It was the doctor's knowledge that saved you."

    
             
"A mere technicality, Charles.  Had yer slaves not found me the doctor wouldn't have been able to use his skill," Jared countered. 
Yer daughter wouldn't have been
able to use her skill
.

    
             
"Why, Jared, you sound as if you are one of them," Phillipe said.

"Them, Dureau?" Jared asked mildly.

"An abolitionist," Phillipe replied.

             
"Ahh.  Nay, Phillipe. I simply am grateful and wouldn't want the people responsible for saving my life to go unrewarded.  I assure ye I meant ye gentlemen no insult.  I am sympathetic to ye Southerners."  Indeed, he was sympathetic to these Southern men.  If their forefathers had had the good sense to see slavery for what it really was, there wouldn't be such simmering hostilities between the states this very day.