Underground Captive (32 page)

    
             
Cursing all the devils in hell, Jared caught Nicki as she started to fall.  He placed her inside the carriage, then picked up Sam's broken body and put him on the seat opposite her.

    
             
Climbing atop of the carriage, he turned it around, com
manding Satan to follow him.  At least fif
teen-minutes stood between himself and his pursuers.  That's
if
he was still being pursued.  Nevertheless, he had just lost valuable time.

    
             
He couldn't allow Nicki or her carriage to be discovered.  She had seen his face and he must take her with him until he could figure out what to do with her.

             
Bloody damn those Duplantiers!  The devil take them all!

23

             
Jared sat in his drawing room grimly contemplating the events of last night.

    
             
What would he ever do with that wretched little creature?  She was more bold than any woman he knew.  Certainly more bold than a lot of men.  What person, man or woman, would have had courage enough to tear the mask off the face of the Black Rider with the reputation he had?  Especially if that person was all alone.  He slammed his fist on his desk.  How could this have hap
pened? Double damn her!  Bloody damn her to hell!

    
             
He'd make a concentrated effort to find Ricard Duplantier.  He needed to settle that score even more urgently now that he'd unwittingly acquired a Duplantier he didn't know what to do with.

             
A light tap sounded on his door.

             
"Come in," he growled.

 
             
The door opened and Nicki walked in. He’d been waiting half the day to give her a tongue-lashing.  But he wasn’t prepared for the pathetic spectacle she presented.  Wide and luminous, her amethyst eyes brimmed with unshed tears and bewildered hurt. Her green cotton and lace dress was stained and disheveled.  Her hair, tied back with a green ribbon, was tangled and unkempt.  She reminded him of a delicate, wild forest creature, terror and confusion in her featured.  She looked so wounded.  Seeing her without the spirit she usually displayed made his heart ache. .

    
             
Walking over to her, he took her arm, leading her to a chair, sitting opposite her in front of his desk.  He gazed at her.  She looked tragically beautiful.  He drew in a breath.  "I'm sorry ye did what ye did, Nicol
lette.  Ye've complicated matters for both of us.  I can't let ye leave now that ye know who the Black Rider is.  There's no need to be frightened.  No one's going to hurt ye."

             
Bon Dieu
!  Jared was the Black Rider!

    
             
A wretchedness of mind and heart that Nicki had never ex
perienced before filled her.  The shock of her discovery lay buried in her soul, assailing her with a terrible sense of bitterness.  She hadn't wanted to believe that he really was the Black Rider.  To think she thought she loved him.  A suffocating hurt pierced her but the swell of her pain was beyond tears.

 
             
"Nicki?" Jared asked when she remained quiet.

    
             
Nicki floundered slightly at the tender tone of his voice.  Her stomach clenched in tight knots and her chest felt as if it would burst with grief.  Biting her lower lip, she glared at him, fear and anger twisting her insides.  "M-m-my father will come looking for me when he finds out I didn't get to
Parc Les Deux
.  And when they find you, I hope they shoot you then hang your body from the tallest tree and then let you stay there and rot!" she spat, her anger and outrage overcoming her fear and grief.

    
             
Jared shook his head, his vexation evident.  "I should recover so quickly," he said with staid calmness, "from the dan
gerous move ye made last night when ye tore off my mask.  Ye seemed to have regained yer spunk."

    
             
"How could you?"  Her accusing voice sniped through the tense air.  "Pa Pa trusted you!  And you betrayed him.  You betrayed all those planters who trusted you.  You hypocrite! You're noth
ing but a...a--"

    
             
"
Bete noir
?  Ye don't know me.  All I've ever been to ye is a scoundrel and a blackguard."

             
"
Oui
,
oui
.  And worse," Nicki seethed, furious at his cool manner.

    
             
"Ye needn't go on, my dear.  I get the picture."

    
             
"You'll never get the picture," she returned, throwing the words at him like daggers.  "You're no better than the abolitionists, the meddling Northerners and everyone else who despises the South!"

    
             
"Nay, Nicki.  'Tis not the South I despise.  The South is a glorious and beautiful land.  'Tis the aristocracy I cannot abide," he spat with a ring of finality.  "The slaveholders.  They're the ones who need worrying.  And I'm just the one to do it!"

    
             
"So you can say," she hissed.  "You call this land glorious and beautiful, yet you'd seek to take away the very thing that helps to keep it that way.  We need the Negroes to till the land and nurture the soil and--"  Her eyes widened in surprise at his derisive laughter.

    
             
"Don't ye mean to nurture the gentry?  How complicated can planting be?  Must ye be black to know the intricacies of it?"

    
             
Her fury almost choked her.  "Go to hell, Jared Fleming."  She blazed a withering stare in his direction.  "Or Black Rider.  Or whatever you call yourself.  Your opinions be damned.  You still can't justify kidnapping me.  I hope my Pa Pa brings half the gentry, as you so sarcastically put it, when he comes for me.  And I hope each one of them have a rope.  I'll enjoy watching you hang!  Hopefully on the spot!"

    
             
"'Tis nice to know that ye ask so little out of life, sweet Nicki.  That my demise will bring satisfaction to ye warms my heart."  His voice turned hard and he locked his gaze with her icy glare.  "'Tis not likely that yer father will come to your rescue,
mademoiselle
.  I never leave clues.  That's why I've never been caught.  And, until I decide what to do with ye, ye'll abide by my rules.  Ye'll do as I say.  And ye'll not make trouble."  He lifted her chin with one big, callused hand.  "God, ye're beautiful when ye're riled, sweet Nicki."

    
             
Jared's roguish grin riled her all the more.  She slapped his hand away.  "Don't touch me, you lecherous swamp thing.  I despise you and I'm not your sweet Nicki!"

    
             
"Be that as it may, I can't help what ye think.  What's more I don't care.  Ye're going to stay here until I've accomplished what I set out to do.  Even if it takes forever."

    
             
"How arrogant you are,
Monsieur
Fleming, and stupid if you think my father will let another sunrise find me here," Nicki as
serted with bold defiance, folding her arms across her chest, lifting her chin haughtily.

    
             
Jared's expression clouded with anger and his lips twisted with a brittle smile.  "Have it yer way,
Mademoiselle
Duplantier.  Until such time as yer father does make his appearance, I've assigned a room for ye.  As a matter of fact, 'tis directly across the hall from my bedchamber.  There's a bathing room next to it if ye care to make use of its facilities."

    
             
Nicki's eyes flashed fire.  "Why...why you insuf
ferable boar!  You arrogant, insolent bastard.  You...you..." Not being able to think of a vile enough name at the moment, she stood, tilted her face arrogantly and stalked out of the room.

    
             
Even as angry as he still was with her, Jared admitted that Nicki was in perfect form.  She hadn't missed a beat.  She was still as acid tongued as ever.  He didn't have the heart, or maybe the nerve, he thought wryly, to tell her that he'd already sent missives to both
Parc Les Deux
and Crescent Wood.  The Clemenceaus' missive explained that Nicki decided against a visit at this time because she was going upriver to attend the wedding of a friend from Mrs. Bryson's Finishing School.  Maybe, if time permitted, she'd see them in the spring.  Charles' missive simply said Nicki had arrived safely at
Parc Les Deux
.

   
             
At the moment, he wanted Nicki to think that her father was looking for her.  She'd be impossible if she knew other
wise.  He had instructed the servants to keep an eye on her at all times.

    
             
Jared's anger abated somewhat and he had time to marvel at her spunk or stupidity.  It all depended on how it was looked at.

    
             
Far into the evening after he hadn't seen or heard anything of Nicki, he wondered if she’d had something to eat.  He'd been cataloging last year's inventory on the Flem
ing Carriage Company and the sale of his horses and hadn't stopped to eat himself.

             
'Twas almost dusk.

             
God, he was hungry!  He'd have Elizabeth set the table in the small, but elegantly furnished formal dining salon, and invite Nicki to dine with him.  He wondered if she had packed that beautiful, scarlet gown in the trunks they took off her carriage.  What an exquisite creature she was in it.

    
             
A little twinge of disappointment that Nicki didn't see fit to return to the study for some reason or other went through him.  She was as intelligent as she was beautiful and bold.  After all, a reasonable amount of time had gone by for her to see that her father wasn't coming for her.

             
Finding that he couldn't wait to see her again, he thought of how changeable she was, of how quickly she recovered from her shock and fright at discovering that he was the Black Rider.  He chuckled to himself. 
Bete noir
.  'Twas so like Nicki to put a label on him.  Black beast, indeed.

    
             
Stepping out of his drawing room, he walked down the hall towards the kitchen, built entirely of brick for reasons of safety from fires.

             
Reaching the kitchen, Jared found Mary Douglas kneading dough and Elizabeth stood over a pot of stew.

    
             
"Master Jared."  Mary Douglas looked up from her work.  "'Ow's the bonny lassie?  When we told 'er ye were doing yer numbers, she said ye wanted 'er to 'elp ye wi' yer figures.  And ye dinna want to be disturbed."

    
             
"What?"  Jared's voice was a thunderclap.  "Search the house!  Angus! Robert!  Hugh!  Search the grounds!  If ye've let her get away, we're all in trouble!"  He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time then raced down the hall to her room and pushed the door opened.

             
Empty!

             
"Bloody she-cat!" he fumed.

    
             
Back downstairs, he found his servants frantically searching, opening and closing doors after thoroughly searching rooms.  Even cupboards that seemed large enough to hold her small frame were searched.  They ran out of places to look, obvious or otherwise.  She was nowhere to be found.

             
Jared called his apologetic, apprehensive staff together.   "Ye've allowed

her to escape.  I'm not worried about the consequences of abducting her.  I'm worried about her being out there all alone.  Ye've all shaken my trust in ye and ye had bet
ter pray that no harm comes to her before I find her."

    
             
His deadly calm voice deceived no one.  Lord Fleming was beyond rage.  He was ready to kill, and heaven help the bonny lass if he found her.

    
             
Inside the stable, the trouble Jared had keeping King George quiet surprised him.  The agitated palomino pranced around excitedly.  "Easy, Georgie.  Easy boy," he soothed, patting his wet nose and stroking his neck, but King George wouldn't be calmed.

    
             
He whinnied and Jared decided not to saddle the horse.  He started to back him into his stall when King George emptied his bladder on the cobble-stoned floor.