Underground Captive (35 page)

    
             
He had been terribly rough on Judith last night.  What he could remember of it, that is.  'Twas the first time he had ever used her that way.  Groaning, he got up and reached for his breeches.

             
Judith stirred on the bed.  She stretched and turned over.  She was always there for him.  Since meeting Judith, he only went to the bordello for her services.  True, she was a woman of the evening, but
he
didn't think of her as one.  That's why he always took a room in the Saint Louis Hotel and treated her with respect.

             
Last night had been the exception.

   
             
He had practically dragged her from her chamber at the bordello and took her straight to his quarters in the hotel, stopping long enough to secure a bottle of expensive scotch.  He barely had the door closed before he began pulling at the fasteners on her gown.  He'd meant to have her immediately.

    
             
His savage lust had been unfamiliar to them both.  The more Judith protested, the more excited he became.  And when he took her, it was without mercy.  He pounded her, nay, ravished her, merci
lessly, until he was sated.

    
             
Then, without a word, he'd opened the bottle of scotch and half filled the two glasses, passing one over to Judith.  Wide-eyed and bewildered, she accepted it.  She took small sips as she watched him down one, then two glasses before filling a third.  He held that one and looked at her.  She hurriedly drank hers.

    
             
"W-what's wrong with you, honey?  I've never seen you this way before."

    
             
Jared poured more scotch in her glass, filling it.  “Don't tell me ye haven't had it that rough before? What profession did ye say ye're in?"

    
             
At his words, Judith slid back on the bed.  He stood over her, naked from the waist down, his maleness hard and throbbing.  Methodically, he unbuttoned his shirt and threw it aside.  "Come over here," he commanded harshly, kneeling on the bed.

    
             
Judith slid under him.  He grabbed both her long, lovely legs and raised them above her head, exposing the very core of her womanhood.  Despite her consternation, Judith arched her hips to meet him as he sunk his shaft deep inside her.  He thrusted into her with savage fury, whipping his lust to a quick, frenzied peak, going wild with his climactic release.  His breath coming in short pants, he rolled off her, and took her in his arms, pulling her close to him.  "Sleep, Judith."

             
He had awakened twice more during the night to satisfy his lustful desires.

    
             
Now, in the early morning, remorse filled him.  Even with the most professional ladies of the evening, he was always gentle.  But, last night, he had nearly slammed poor Judith's insides out.

             
Damn Nicollette!  Damn Nicki to hell!

    
             
There should be a legal limit as to just how beautiful a woman should be.  And if she went beyond the legal limit, as Nicki had, she should be guarded night and day by eunuchs, until her beauty faded with time.  But knowing Nicki, time would only serve to enhance her beauty--just for spite!

    
             
Last night, Jared had realized he couldn't stay at Highland Acres.  Not after seeing the exquisite form in all its naked glory of the woman he knew he could never have.  The woman he more than lusted after.  Nay, he didn't simply lust after Nicki.  He had a burning desire to hold her and never let her go.  A desire to kiss her and never stop.  A desire to make love to her and fill her with his sons.

    
             
He hated her. 'Twas because of her that he'd treated Judith so badly.  'Twas really Nicki that he was hammering last night.  Hammering with a vengeance.

  
             
Getting up, he poured some water from the pitcher into the basin that sat next to it on the rosewood washstand.  Splashing some water on his face, he dried it with one of the guest linens.  He put on his white shirt, moving as quietly as possible, so as not to disturb Judith's peaceful sleep.

    
             
He finished dressing quickly and took a generous amount of bills from his pocket and laid them on the pillow next to Judith's head.  Bending down, he kissed her forehead.

    
             
"I'm sorry if I hurt ye," he whispered, lightly stroking her hair.  Going quietly to the door and opening it, he glanced back at Judith one last time.

    
             
Walking toward the exit, he knew either Malcolm or Angus would be at the house by the ramparts.  Malcolm was one of his servants from Highland Acres, who came sometimes to the ramparts for one reason or another, when the rest of his servants were at his horse farm.

    
             
Jared felt rotten; rotten for using Judith the way he did and rotten for not feeling any better because of it.  'Twas the purpose of bringing Judith to the hotel--to bang the hell out of his frustrations on her.  All he’d succeeded in doing was confusing poor Judith.  Despite her profession, she was a kind-hearted soul.  He vowed to himself to make it up to her somehow.

    
             
He retrieved King George from the stable and prayed he wouldn't encounter anyone he knew.  Luck was with him.  With the exception of a few early ped
dlers, Jared got to the ramparts unnoticed.  As he directed King George onto the grounds, the horse whinnied softly and the front door of Jared's house swung open.  Angus walked across the gallery with a pleasant greeting.

    
             
"Master, I willa see tae Georgie.  Malcolm has ye bath waitin'."

    
             
"Thank ye, Angus," Jared said wearily, giving the reins over to his servant.  Inside, he went directly to his bedchamber, where the straight-backed brass tub stayed.

             
"I willa put more 'ot water in the tub, Master Jared," Malcolm said.  "It willa soothe yer taut nerves."

    
             
Jared nodded and started stripping off his clothes as Malcolm went hurriedly to get the bucket of hot water.

    
             
Standing naked, Jared silently gazed at the tub, waiting for Malcolm to return.  The remembered fragrance of Nicki's bath seemed to waft through his nostrils.  Like a mind of its own, his shaft began to grow, his desire for Nicki almost beyond his control.  He would never again smell that fragrance without wanting to possess her completely.

    
             
"'Ere we are, Master Jared," Malcolm said, walking into the room.  "This water is verra 'ot.  It should..." His voice trailed off.

    
             
Jared frowned at Malcolm.  "What the bloody deuce are ye looking at, Malcolm?" he asked with ir
ritation.

    
             
"Why I be lookin' at ye, Master Jared," Malcolm calmly replied, pouring the water into the tub.  "I'm thinkin' tha' ye be all tha' Mary Douglas think ye be.  I am proud tae be yer ser
vant, sir.  But yer blessed endowment does nothin' fer me stem.  It's jus' made fer piddling.  I canna satisfy the lassies wi' it."

    
             
Jared looked at his servant and shook his head.  Mary and Malcolm.  What would he ever do without them to continually amuse him? As if he cared what Malcolm did with his piddler.  He knew what he wanted to do with his own.

    
             
Stepping into the tub, Jared found the water pleasantly warm.  He sunk down as far as he could, which wasn't very far because the tub wasn't large enough to accommodate his six foot three inch frame comfortably.  But he needed the soothing warmth of the water to ease his antagonism.

    
             
"Master is tense," Malcolm said, picking up the washcloth and raining water over Jared's back with it.

    
             
Jared sighed with pleasure.  The water did seem to relieve his tension.  Even the perturbation between his thighs calmed into relaxed softness.

    
             
He couldn't avoid Nicki indefinitely.  'Twas bad enough being attracted to the sister of his wife's killer from afar but to always have her near was going to be unbearable.  He'd just have to keep reminding himself of his mission to find Ricard and make him pay for what he did.  If Nicki wasn't so damned desirable 'twould be easy.

    
             
He thought about Patricia and how much he had loved her.  It startled him a little when he realized he was actually think
ing of his love for Patricia in the past tense.  Of course he
still
loved her.  He would always love her.  Her memory.  Because that's all he had left of her now.  She would always have a special place in his heart.

    
             
Jared finished his bath and got dressed.  He told Angus and Malcolm to close the house on the ramparts once again and return to Highland Acres.  He had to check on the foreman of his carriage plant before joining them.

     *  *  *

             
Jared went to the bank on Royal Street in the Vieux Carre and deposited a small sum of money.  Having no faith in the South's fragile economy, he kept just enough money in the New Orleans bank to meet his expenses.  Anything beyond what he used monthly, he sent to the Bank of Philadelphia, where he kept the bulk of his money. 

    
             
Thinking about Mespero's for a quick bite to eat, he noticed Charles's carriage just pulling up in front of the place.

    
             
Doesn't Charles ever eat at home
?  Jared felt guilty about seeing Charles right then.  If Charles mentioned Nicki's departure for
Parc Les Deux
, he didn't know if he could act in a manner Charles would expect.

    
             
Avoiding Charles, he decided he needed more time away from his formidable little hellcat of a houseguest.  He went to the Saint Louis Hotel where he engaged in the game of
Vingt-et-un
with some acquaintances.  Realizing the lateness of the hour afterwards, he decided to use his old room and spend another night in the city.

    
             
The next morning, without ceremony, he mounted Georgie and gently coaxed the palomino in the direction of Canal Street.  Soon, Jared was on Tchoupitoulas Road. There, he trotted King George to River Road toward the City of Carrollton, where just on the outskirts Highland Acres--and Nicki Duplantier—awaited him.

26

   
             
"Up an' at 'em, lassie," Mary Douglas said cheerfully, open
ing the heavy curtains in the room Nicki occupied.

             
Nicki stirred under the heavy blanket, blinking her eyes at the light that shone suddenly in the room.  "
Bon matin
, Mary.  What time is it?" she asked, pulling the covers up to her neck.

    
             
"'Tis almost nine o'clock, lassie.  Master Jared is wantin' ye tae be joinin' 'im downstairs fer breakfast."

    
             
Nicki sat up in bed and narrowed her eyes.  "Oh he is, is he?" she sneered with sarcasm.  "I haven't seen
Monsieur
Fleming in two days but suddenly he'd like the pleasure of my presence?  He really must have been busy.  He's been gone long enough to have freed all the slaves in Louisiana.  I wonder if my father has any slaves left! You tell
Monsieur
Fleming I will be right down.  I have a thing or two to tell him!"

    
             
"Oh dinna be angry, missy.  Master Jared dinna go oot free
ing slaves from the likes of yer father, two nights gone," Mary Douglas volunteered, walking over to the bed where Nicki sat.   "Mal
colm said the master was in the company o' Miss Judith Potter.  She's master's special 'arlot.  I dinna ken why Master Jared chose 'er over the others.  I can tell ye, Miss Judith 'as a 'eart as big as Scotland."

    
             
Nicki's heart slammed against her chest.  Jealousy, unchecked and piercing, spread through her.  "He what?" she hissed incredulously, the hairs standing at the nape of her neck.  "How dare he? He bedded a...a...a woman of the town? And then he had the nerve to come back here?"  Jerking the covers to the side of her, she sat on the edge of the bed.

    
             
"Aye, lassie.  That 'e did.  But Master Jared came 'ere be
cause 'tis where 'e lives," Mary Douglas reminded her.