Underground Captive (37 page)

    
             
Her feelings were at war.  Her love was divided.  Her loyalties were split.  For her family.  For her way of life that Jared threatened every time he spirited a slave away.

             
For Jared himself.

    
             
She loved him as much as she hated him.  She wanted to kiss him as much as she wanted to kill him.  She wanted to ease the pain that she saw in him, as much as she wanted to bring pain crashing down upon him.

    
             
Non
, she told herself,
I hate him more than I love him.  He's making me forget my loyalty to Crescent Wood and to my family.
    

             
When he took her in his arms, she forgot everything.  Her anger.  Her family.  Her home.

             
Dammit, she forgot her pride!

             
Seething anew, she fell back on her wounded pride, which gave way to

blinding rage.

    
             
She'd find a way to escape and bring the authorities back here and watch them hang
Monsieur
Fleming from the nearest tree! Yet, as her mind screamed that she wanted him dead, her heart screamed just as fiercely that she would die if anything happened to him.

       
             
She was walking around the room, trying to decide what to do, when Mary Douglas opened the door.

    
             
"Beggin' yer pardon, lassie, I 'ave yer meal prepared, 'ot cakes and 'oney.  Just like ye asked," she said tearfully, taking a handkerchief out of her apron pocket and blowing her nose.

    
             
Nicki walked over to her.  "Why, Mary? Why are you crying?" she asked with concern.

    
             
"'Tis the master, lassie," she sniffed.   "'E dinna like me telling ye aboot 'is special 'arlot.  'E was angry, 'e was.  'E said I was a daffy twit and 'e would ship me back tae Scotland if I made ye un'appy ag'in."

    
             
Nicki looked at Mary Douglas. 
You are a twit
, she thought, wondering why Jared would be concerned with her happiness.  She didn't know whether to be angry with Jared for making Mary cry or to laugh at him for wanting her to be happy under such difficult circumstances.  "Don't cry, Mary.  I'll speak to
Monsieur
Flem
ing.  He had no right to scold you for simply holding a conversation with me."

    
             
"Oh nay, missy," Mary pleaded, dabbing at her eyes.   "Dinna say ennathin' more.  Master Jared would gi' angry all over ag'in."

    
             
"All right, Mary.  I won't say anything.  I promise."  Nicki laid a comforting hand on Mary's back.  Mary was the only one she could get information from concerning Jared's plans or whereabouts.  She didn't want to dry up the one source that could be her possible link to freedom.

    
             
"Thank ye, lassie.  Yer 'ot cakes willa be cold cakes if ye don't 'urry."

    
             
Nicki contemplated a moment whether or not to join Jared in the dining room.  For Mary's sake she decided to change her strategy.  If she could get Mary to trust her, she would put up with Jared for that purpose alone.  "
Merci
, I really am hungry, Mary.  I know I'll enjoy them, hot or cold."

    
             
Going down the hall to the dining parlor, she opened the door.  One end of the long, mahogany table was beautifully set for one.  Jared was nowhere to be seen.  "Where's
Monsieur
Fleming?" she asked Mary, who'd followed her.

             
"Keith came fer the master.  'E  'ad  tae  go  tae  the  stables."

   
             
"I see," Nicki mumbled, lowering her lashes to hide her dejection, disappointed at not finding him there.
             
Sitting down to eat, she felt lonely.  She missed what she'd expected--seeing Jared sit across from her at the table eating the noon meal.

             
She missed him and she didn't want, for all the souls in Heaven, to

understand or recognize why.

27

             
Nicki sat in the rocker on the veranda, noting a decided change in the weather.  The chill was gone and the sun shone in a cloudless sky, resulting in a pleasantly warm day, making it safe to sit outdoors without damaging her delicate skin.

             
She looked out in the distance at the hay, alfalfa and cornfields.  The bounty was just beginning to sprout.  The fields weren't very big, but probably big enough to produce feed for Jared's horses.  She wondered how many he owned.  Highland Acres was quite self-sufficient, Nicki found.  There were barn and farm animals here, which were kept solely to provide food supplement.

             
Mary had told her come harvest time everyone was kept quite busy with canning and storing the garden vegetables once everything had been gathered.  There were potatoes, both sweet and white, turnip greens, spinach, field peas and carrots growing in the garden.  Nicki wondered who worked the fields.  However, she was sure there would be no activity at Highland Acres come next harvest.  By then everyone would have been caught, tried, and hanged for their participation and knowledge of Jared's treasonous activities!

             
For the last seven weeks, she had hardly seen Jared, except when she passed him in the halls.  When that did happened, Jared would inquire after her comfort and continue on his way.  His cool treatment of her angered, frustrated and confused her.  She'd been very cooperative, not causing any trouble, not attempting any escapes.  She thought she was doing what he wanted.

    
             
Even Mary Douglas was distant and cool.  Though she was still polite, the warmth had somehow disappeared.  Elizabeth, who was never very friendly, now barely spoke to Nicki.  No one would speak to her unless she spoke first.  As a result she was left alone a lot.  But she wasn't deluded into thinking she
was
alone.  She knew she was being watched because she felt eyes on her at all times.

    
             
Because of her forced seclusion, she became very lonely, and she hated Jared with a passion she hadn't known she possessed.  He still went out on night rides, stealing and freeing the slaves of her father and his friends.  She'd seen him ride out three nights hence, clad all in black, riding that ebony devil horse that had run over and killed Sam.

    
             
He also still went into New Orleans to bed down that harlot wench.  She knew because on several occasions he left Highland Acres dressed in his finest attire, looking more handsome than any man had a right to look.  That made Nicki angriest of all.  She fantasized asking the authorities to let her be the one to personally hang Jared by using her weight to stretch Jared's neck by pulling on the other end of the rope.

           Closing her eyes, she rocked gently in the rocker, fighting back tears.  "Maman," she whispered dolefully.  "I miss you so."

    
             
Nicki sighed and after a moment, opened her eyes once again, looking out toward the bridle path.  She saw a rider in the distance, mounted on a golden palomino, coming toward the house.  As the rider got closer, she saw that it was Jared astride King George.

    
             
He sat straight and tall in the saddle.  His blond hair gleamed like foxfire in the sunshine.  Nicki's eyes traveled from the plain white cotton shirt covering his chest to the tight tan breeches clinging seductively to his legs.  Her heart started beating wildly in her chest. 
It isn't supposed to do that
, she scolded herself.  She hated him.  He was the enemy and a vile American, who held her captive.  All the things he did proved to her Americans were vile, barbaric brigands and couldn't be trusted.  Yet, those thoughts didn't reach her heart.

             
Jared walked King George up to the front step.  For a minute he stayed

mounted, looking down at Nicki, marveling at how much she moved him with her

unearthly beauty.  He slid off the saddle and wound the reins around the

saddlehorn.  "Stand," he said to King George, walking up the steps, smiling.
             

"
Mademoiselle
Duplantier, what a delectable sight ye are.  Yer beauty graces my

home," he teased, boldly assessing her.  He fought the urge to brush back a tendril

of curl that spilled onto her forehead in the gentle breeze.

    
             
"You're in a good mood,
monsieur
.  Who could be responsible for it? Could it be your favorite tart or did you relieve some poor planter of all his slaves?" Nicki said, looking defiantly at him, not missing one powerful muscle of his magnificent frame.

    
             
Jared's jaw tightened and his eyes darkened, void of all warmth.  "Ye'll do well not to concern yerself with my busi
ness," he replied angrily.  "Yer interference could lose ye yer pretty head!"

    
             
Nicki's eyes widened.  "You....you wouldn't dare!" she spat, almost choking with her fury and fear.

    
             
"I have a mission to accomplish, Nicollette.  When I've ac
complished that mission, I'll set ye free.  But I warn ye, the people who work for me are loyal.  If they think ye can harm me in any way, ye may meet with an unfortunate accident.  And they relish less the thought of themselves facing the hangman's noose.  The less ye know about me or try to find out, the better."  Jared's eyes bored into hers.  But it was his words that sent a sudden chill through the core of her.

    
             
For a moment, raw terror clutched at her heart.  The look she saw in Jared's eyes was new and convincing.  Still, she stood her ground.  "How dare you hold me captive and threaten my life?" she hissed with reckless defiance.  "Be warned yourself,
Monsieur
'Mericain Pig! I
will
escape from here in one piece.  And you'll rue the day you ever brought me here!"

    
             
King George whinnied softly, brushing away insects with his magnificent tail.

    
             
Jared started to respond to Nicki's acridity, but was momen
tarily distracted by the stallion.

    
             
In that fleeting moment, Nicki acted.  She suddenly jumped out of her chair, pushing Jared with all her strength, surprising him and knocking him off balance.

    
             
Cursing vividly, he crashed to the floor.  He was back on his feet almost immediately.  But not fast enough to prevent that bloody little bitch from jumping on King George's back.

    
             
Nicki bolted off the gallery and, raising her skirts to her thighs, with uncanny speed and agility put one foot in the stirrups and swung the other leg across King George's back.  Squeezing her legs against his sides, she unwound the reins and commanded him to go.

    
             
Nothing that light in weight had ever straddled the palomino before.  And the unfamiliar feel of Nicki on his back caused him to run and buck.  King George's unexpected movements caught Nicki by surprise and she was nearly thrown off his back.

    
             
Despite her knowledge of horses, she was unable to control the palomino.  Terrified, she leaned over and held him around his neck, hanging on for dear life.  The horse ran, jumping and buck
ing, trying to throw her and nearly succeeding.

    
             
Jared ran down the steps behind King George, who was now several yards away.  He stopped in his tracks and, raising his thumb and forefinger to his lips, let out a piercing whistle.  Almost immediately, the horse stopped bucking, turned and gal
loped back to where Jared waited.  He reached Jared, but pranced about nervously.

    
             
"Stand, King George!  Stand!" Jared commanded in a firm tone.

    
             
The horse calmed down and stood stock still as Jared patted his head.

    
             
"Good boy!" he said, barely able to contain his rage as he looked at Nicki, clinging with both hands to the horse's neck.
             
"Get down!" he sputtered.