Underground Captive (30 page)

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Nicollette wiped away her tears and composed herself.  She walked through the door, closed it, then hurried through the hall and out the huge, double entrance doors, her brief visit in the portrait room giving her the courage she needed to face Jared.

*  *  *

At his house by the ramparts, Jared raised his glass in a toast.  "I'd like to commend ye all for a job well done this year at the Fleming Carriage Company," he said to his six city employees, there for a Christmas supper.

    
             
"Herr Fleming, we are proud that you chose to honor us like this," Otto Kolb said.   "We are only doing our jobs.  A job we are happy to do."

    
             
"'Tis just Christmas supper, Otto.  Of course, if ye feel unworthy I'll just tell Mary Douglas ye refuse to eat the supper she slaved over all day.  'Twill hurt her tender feelings, but she'll recover."

    
             
"Nein, nein, nein, Herr Fleming!  I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Do not offend Frau Douglas.  We have looked forward to this."

    
             
Jared roared with laughter at Otto's confusion and slapped Otto on the back.  "I know ye didn't mean it the way it sounded, Otto.  I was merely jesting with ye."

The man across from Jared laughed good-naturedly.  "'Twas a good joke, sir," he spoke with a thick, Irish brogue.

"Aye, Paddy," Jared agreed.  "'Twas."

"Excuse me, Master Jared."

Jared looked in Angus’s direction.  "What is it, my friend?"

"Mum'zelle Duplantier is 'ere tae see ye."

"Nicollette?"

"Aye, master."

Jared stood.  "Excuse me," he said to his guests and started for the door.

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"Jared?"  Nicollette stepped around Angus.  She was taken aback, but undaunted that he wasn't alone.  "
Pardonnez moi, s`il vous plait.  Bon jour, messieurs
."

    
             
Jared glowered at her.  What was the little vixen up to now?  "'Twill be all, Angus.  I'll see to the lady."  His hand snaked around her tiny waist.   He ushered her out of the parlor and down the hall to his study.   "What the deuce are ye doing here?" he growled angrily.  Angry at himself; angry at the feelings she stirred in him everytime he saw her; and angry at the way his flesh seared at the slightest brush of her person.  He grabbed her by the shoulders and held her eyes with his cold, hypnotic ones.

"I-I-I didn't mean to intrude, Jared.  I didn't know you had guests."  The

feelings that emerged from his touch caused her to tremble.

    
             
Her tremors went all the way to the tips of his fingers and he released her instantly.  "Why are ye here?" he croaked, bringing his anger in check.

    
             
"I'm here to apologize for my behavior a fortnight ago.  It was a reckless thing to do.  It could've proved dangerous.  Calling you the Black Rider is like calling Ricard Captain Blossom.  Neither has merit.

"I must also apologize for barging in here unannounced.  It could've been

awkward if Patricia had been here with you."

A brief look of profound pain flashed across Jared's face.

"Patricia?"

    
             
"
Oui
.  You called out for her in your illness."  She tried to keep the misery out of her voice, but failed.

Jared looked incredulously at her as awareness dawned on him.  So that

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was her problem.  Nicki was jealous!  In his delirium, he'd uttered Patricia's name and Nicki overheard him.  He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this new discovery.  She’d never admit her jealousy to him.  He cleared his throat.  "Patricia is my late wife, Nicki."  His moderate tone surprised him.

Nicki's eyes widened in surprise.  "You...you were married?"

"Aye, I was," he gritted, noticing the look of relief on her face upon hearing that Patricia was his
late
wife.

    
             
"Oh," she said quietly and wondered why he sounded so menacing. 
Bon Dieu
! There was so much she didn't know about him.

    
             
Jared looked at her again and she met his gaze, a gaze no longer angry but full of want and desire.

God's blood, but she was beautiful.

"I-I-I'm sorry about your wife," she stammered.

Little liar!  Bloody little Duplantier liar
. 

He pulled her up against his hard chest.  "Are ye?" he muttered.

"
Oui
," she whispered.

Jared dropped his head and placed a feather kiss on her lips.  She sighed, her sweet breath caressing his throat.  He nibbled at her ear and her whole body tingled in response.

    
             
"I accept yer apology, sweet Nicki."  He traced kisses along the slender column of her neck.

    
             
She shivered with excitement.  "
Non
, Jared," she whispered, pushing against his chest with her opened palms.

He continued to rain kisses over her eyes and cheeks, his mouth finally

slanting over hers, exploring the soft sweetness of her.  Deepening the kiss, the heat, slow and penetrating, reached his loins.

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The evidence of his arousal came in contact with Nicki's thigh.  Her eyes

flew opened and she realized her skirts were raised.  "
Non
, Jared.  You...must...remember...you...have guests," she said, her breath coming in slow gasps.

What in bloody hell was he doing?  Jared released her and righted her

skirts.  He started to respond when a knock sounded on the door.

"Master Jared, suppa is served," Mary Douglas's voice came through the

door.

    
             
"Thank ye, Mary," Jared rasped, looking at Nicollette.  Her face was flushed.  How glorious she looked.  A slow smile moved across his face when he noticed the light pink turn almost crimson after Mary called to him.

    
             
Nicollette glared at him.  "You viper," she hissed.  "Never, ever touch me again!"  She went to the door and flounced into the foyer.

    
             
Jared followed, his laughter floating upwards.   "I promise, Nicki.  And
mademoiselle
, I'd be honored if ye stayed and sup with me and my guests.  They're men in my employ and they're here for a Christmas repast.  It grows late.  I'll escort ye back to Crescent Wood afterwards."

    
             
Nicollette looked at him in a new light.  What planter would have his employees dine in his very own home?  This man was just full of surprises.

    
             
"
Merci
,
Monsieur
," she said, her tone light and teasing.  "I'd consider it an honor to sup with you and your guests."

    
             
Just then, Otto and his crew walked up to them.  "Herr Fleming, we do not wish to intrude, but it's fitting that you be alone to sup with the lovely fraulein.  We will take our leave."

"Nay, Otto, stay as we planned," Jared began.

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"Please,
Monsieur
.  I am the intruder here and I would be offended if you

didn't stay."

Otto looked at Jared for approval.

"Don't argue with the lady, Otto.  She has a will of steel," Jared stated.

    
             
Nicollette chuckled.  "Ladies choice.  I'm honored to dine in your company."

    
             
Jared smiled down at her and offered his arm.  "Ye little minx.  Ye come in here and take over my household and guests as though 'twas yer right." He shook his head, his humor fully restored.

    
             
"I hope you don't mind, Jared," she whispered for his ears alone.  "But we were in your study alone an indecently long time.  I wouldn't have them think I came here for anything other than to sup the Christmas repass."

    
             
Jared smiled and swallowed a laugh that gurgled in his throat.  "Did ye?" he teased.

Nicki jabbed him in the side.

    
             
He grunted in mock pain.  "Aye, my sweet.  I agree with ye. We shouldn't be alone.  I don't wish to face Charles on the dueling field because I was responsible for his daughter's fall from grace."

    
             
Nicollette narrowed her eyes at him.  "Never fear,
Monsieur
, that'll never happen.  I don't plan to have any more weak moments in your presence."

    
             
"Good," Jared said as he pulled her chair out from the dining table.

    
             
She sat down and his hands lingered on her bare shoulders, lightly rubbing them.  Her flesh quivered under his touch.  "See that ye make good that promise, my sweet Nicki," he murmured.

Her face flushed and she sent him a blazing glare.

    
             
After everyone was seated, Mary Douglas and Angus began serving the plates.

    
             
When supper ended, Jared presented everyone with a very generous Christmas bonus and they took their leave.  The men knew he had more than a two hour ride ahead of him to escort his enchanting guest back to her manor in Destrehan.

*  *  *   

Though Nicki still wanted Ricard home, the fact that Jared was there, and had been for four days, had her deliriously happy.  Each morning they raced, she on Nur, he on Georgie.  As long as they avoided the slavery issue and that of the states' rights, they didn't argue.

             
Now, three days before Christmas, her resentment towards her father was the only thing dampening the celebration.

Her Pa Pa strolled into the parlor where she and Jared sat conversing, and smiled charmingly.  "Nicki, your Tante Blanche has just arrived.  I'm sure you'd like to see her and congratulate her on her marriage to
Monsieur
Foucher."

    
             
Not responding, she glared at her father.

    
             
Jared stood from one of the chairs in front of the fireplace.  "If ye'll excuse me, Nicki, Charles."  'Twas clear Charles's heart was breaking over Nicki's refusal to give over and talk to him.  Or, at the least, look at him without anger.

    
             
Nicki stood also and raised her chin defiantly.  "If you leave, Jared, so will I."

    
             
"There's no need, Nicollette," Charles sighed, turning to leave.  As if a thought suddenly occurred to him, he turned back and stared at her.  "I did you a great injustice,
cherie
, in not informing you of my plans to wed Antoinette.  I don't blame you for being angry.  I was warned that you would be...."  His voice trailed off when she turned her back to him.

    
             
He gave Jared a bereaved look.  "Nicki, supper will be served in the small, dining parlor."  When she didn't answer, Charles bowed his head, turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

At the sound of the closing door, Nicki turned and faced Jared, who studied her intently as if her tried to look into the deepest recesses of her soul.

    
             
"Nicki," he began after a moment.  "I know ye're hurt but ye're hurting yer father terribly with yer treatment."

    
             
"He didn't have the decency to tell me.  He came home December tenth with Antoinette and her trunks in tow, and announced to everyone that Crescent Wood had a new mistress."  She stopped, her anger turning to hurt.  "It was unkind and humiliating."

    
             
Jared drew her into his arms.  "Nicki, what are ye objecting to?  If yer father had told ye beforehand, would ye still treat him so?"

    
             
Quietly, she considered what he said.  Would she?  She never imagined any woman except herself or her tante running Crescent Wood after her Maman died.  She leaned her head against Jared's chest.  He stroked her hair gently.

    
             
"Yer father would never do anything to hurt ye.  Ye know that.  Consider what he must be going through knowing that ye won't forgive him."

    
             
Disengaging herself from Jared's embrace and walking back to her seat, she sat down.

    
             
Seeing how pensive Nicki's mood had become, he walked to the fireplace and stared into the flames.

    
             
"Why, Jared?" she asked sadly.   "Why is life so complicated? Why does my world have to be so complicated?"

    
             
"My sweet, little Nicki, 'tis not the world that's so complicated, 'tis the inhabitants that complicate the world."  Jared turned to face her.  "Just as yer father complicated yer life by keeping ye uninformed, ye're complicating his by hating him."

Her head snapped up.  "I don't hate him, Jared."

             
"Then ye should tell him.  Don't ye think ye've made him suffer long enough?"

"
Oui
, I guess I have," she said in a barely audible voice.

    
             
He took her by the hand, pulling her from her seat.  "Why don't ye straighten this out before supper so the rest of yer father's holiday will truly be happy?"

    
             
"
Merci
, Jared."  Nicki stood on tiptoe to plant a quick kiss on his lips.  "I'll see you at supper."

    
             
"Aye, my Nicki, ye will," he called after her as she left the room, the single kiss she gave him sending fire through his veins.

    
             
Nicollette walked toward the library.  Her father spent a lot of time in there lately.  Today was no exception.

    
             
Charles looked up at the sound of the door opening.  When he saw his daughter walk in, he put down the snifter of brandy that he held in his hand.

    
             
Nicki walked to her father's desk, which he sat behind.  "Pa Pa," she whispered.

He looked at her without responding.

    
             
"I-I know I haven't..."  She stopped, not knowing what to say.  Never had she felt so awkward or at such a loss for words.  "I am trying to understand your reasoning," she began slowly.

    
             
"At the time, Nicki, I thought my reasons were justified.  Your tante and Antoinette told me how wrong I was.  Your anger and hurt tell me how right they were."

"Pa Pa, I don't hate you.  I  could  never  hate  you.  For your sake, I

will welcome Madam Vermie...I...I...I mean--"

    
             
"Antoinette," Charles cut in, his voice full of understanding.

    
             
"Antoinette," Nicki repeated in a small voice.  "I will welcome Antoinette into the family."

    
             
She looked at her father then went around the desk and kissed him on the cheek.  "I love you, Pa Pa."  Before he could respond, she had started for the door.

"I love you also,
ma petit
," Charles said.  "Nicki?"

    
             
Stopping at the door, she turned to look at him.  "
Oui
, Pa Pa?"

"What made you seek me out?"

"Jared," she said without hesitation, a tender smile breaking at her mouth.

    *  *  *

             
Later that evening, the fire in the black marble fireplace gave the sitting room a cozy warmth.  Claude came in with eggnog for Nicki and scotch for Jared.  She took a sip and tasted a faint trace of brandy or maybe it was scotch, she couldn't be sure.

The two of them sat quietly awaiting Charles, Antoinette, Blanche, and her new husband Michel Foucher.

             
As Jared drank his scotch, he took in every fine detail of Nicki and her stunning, evening dress.  It was the color of her eyes.  Amethyst.  Deep, shining amethyst.  The gown emphasized her glowing complexion and high breasts.  As usual she wore her hair unbound.

    
             
Looking at Nicki, two words came to mind for Jared.  Exquisitely captivating.

    
             
"You're awfully quiet tonight, Jared," Nicki broke into his thoughts.

    
             
"Am I?  There is no need to speak when my eyes behold such loveliness."

    
             
"
Merci
," she said graciously, her eyes filling with enjoyment.  "At times you sound like a poet."

    
             
"Nay, Nicki," Jared said, chuckling.  "I only speak the truth."

    
             
"Whatever you say,
Monsieur
.  Jared, why do you have that crest on your carriages?  It looks like a royal family crest or coat-of-arms."

    
             
"'Tis the crest from Lismore Castle in Scotland," he answered casually, wondering could anything get past Nicki.

"How did you come to use it?"

    
             
"'Twas actually in honor of my father," Jared said, his tone becoming less than cordial.  He didn't feel like digging up the past that he'd managed to bury so deeply while in the presence of Nicollette.

"You honored your father by using a royal crest?  How so?"

    
             
He didn't have to answer these questions but he heard himself saying, "'Twas a symbol he admired throughout his life.  Through the years he talked of it often.  He spoke of what it meant to the occupants of the castle and their ancestors.  'Twas something I never forgot.  I'm so far away from Scotland, no one will ever know that I've used the crest."

    
             
"Do you think they would mind if they ever found out?  I mean the residents of Lismore."

    
             
"Nay, Nicki, believe me 'tis the least of my worries."

    
             
"Why? You're infringing on their privacy.  Put yourself in their place.  If you were the lord of Lismore you wouldn't want anyone to use your crest," Nicki muttered, showing no signs of relenting from her ceaseless questioning.

    
             
"What?  Are ye going to find the lord of Lismore and inform him that I'm using his crest?" Jared asked, more sarcasm in his tone than was necessary.

    
             
Nicki laughed after she pondered the idea for a moment and sipped on her eggnog, which had grown cooler than she liked it.  "
Non
,
Monsieur
."

    
             
He smiled and deflated the building tension.    

Nicki drank the rest of her eggnog in one gulp.  "I wish Ricard were here.  You two would get along great."

    
             
How could he have forgotten whose home he sat in?  He sat in Ricard Duplantier's home as though he belonged there.  Nicki made him feel that way.  Aye, Nicki made him feel that where she was, was where he, Jared, belonged.