Underground Captive (52 page)

             
Only Nicki could give him that.

*  *  *

             
At the house by the ramparts later that evening, he told An
gus to go back to Highland Acres alone.

    
             
"Expect me sometime late tomorrow," he said distantly, and walked to his bedchamber, quietly closing the door behind him.

    
             
A little while later, Jared came out of his chamber and walked through the house.  Its emptiness was suffocating.  He looked around.  There was nothing here for him.  Every
thing he needed and wanted was at Highland Acres.  But Jared didn't want to see Nicollette tonight.  He couldn't face her.   So he went to the bordello, got Judith and brought her to his quarters in the Saint Louis Hotel.

    
             
In the bedchamber, he sat forlornly in a chair next to the bed.  Judith knelt down in front of him and he smiled sadly.

    
             
"I only want yer company, Judith, nothing else," he told her in a hoarse whisper, getting up and walking to the bed, sitting on its edge before moving to rest his back against the headboard.

    
             
Judith raised herself up and sat in the chair he'd just va
cated.  She didn't understand his actions, but she talked to him for a while, trying to get him out of his strange mood.  She only got an occasional response from him--only a nod or a monosyllabic answer.  He was thoroughly distracted by his thoughts and she was thoroughly frustrated at not being able to break through the wall he'd erected around himself.  She rose from her seat and walked over to the bed.

             
"Jared?"

             
There was no response so she tried again, this time a little louder.

             
"Jared?" 

    
             
Judith's throaty voice broke into Jared's thoughts and he turned to look at her.  Her cornflower blue eyes flickered with anxiety and uncertainty.  Her autumn-red hair framed her face and her wide, sen
suous mouth curved downward in a confused frown.  She was very pretty.  But she wasn't Nicollette.

             
Seeing that she had his attention, Judith smiled tentatively.  "If I don't know what's bothering you, Jared, how can I help you?" she whispered, taking his hand and kissing it gently.  She opened the bodice of her gown.  Freeing her breasts, she placed the hand she held on one of them, keeping her hand over his.

             
He smiled, raw anguish glittering in his eyes.  "Ye're helping me by being

here."  Sighing, he removed his hand, stood and walked away from her.

             
Hours later, he passed out from drunkenness.

    
             
When Jared awakened the next morning, his head felt as big as a melon.  How much had he drank?  A quart?  A fifth?  He didn't want to know.  Judith helped him clean up and they went downstairs and had breakfast.  He felt better but he still wanted her company.  They left the hotel and walked together through the shopping district on Rue Royal.  Seeing a string of pearls with match
ing earrings in a little jewelry shop along the way, Jared went in and purchased them for Judith.  There was something poignant about her gratitude; the resig
nation in her voice when she said thank you touched him.

    
             
Towards late afternoon, Jared was still not ready to part company with her.  He decided he wanted her to see a play with him at the French Opera House.  For that, he took her to a little dress boutique on Rue Decatur and bought her a very tasteful, elegantly beautiful gown.

        
             
Afterwards, Jared saw to it that Judith got safely back to the bordello.  He took his leave of her, not once looking back, but knowing that he would miss Miss Judith Potter.  He sighed, not wishing to go back to Highland Acres at such a late hour.  Instead, he went to the house by the ramparts to spend the night.

    
             
Dear God, how he missed Nicki.  His sweet, precious Nicki.  How had fate gotten him to this point in his life?   He was dying inside.  His heart had broken into a thousand pieces.  He had made up his mind.  He had to relinquish Nicki.

    
             
But, in doing so, he felt that would be worse than anything he'd ever experienced--including Patricia's death.  He knew Patricia was dead.  She would never be there for him to touch and to laugh with.  But Nicollette would.  Even with thousands of miles between them once he returned to Scotland, he would know that Nicki was still alive.  Maybe in another's bed.

    
             
He reproached himself most of the night for having taken Nicki's virginity.  What had he done? What horrible mistake had he made?  After visiting with Charles, even with his unrealistic hope that she would still be his wife, he knew there could never be anything between him and Nicollette.

             
Since befriending Charles and falling in love with Nicki, he'd tried

desperately to forgive Ricard.  He tried, God knows he tried, to find forgiveness in his heart for Ricard Duplantier.  But his hatred for Ricard only grew stronger.  His heart only grew colder.

    
             
Torment, confusion, and frustration filled him.  Be
cause of an idealistic, unrealistic goal, he'd destroyed the lives of two women.  The only two women he'd ever been in love with, he thought bitterly.  Another woman came to mind.  His mother.  His dear, sweet, gentle, spirited mother.  Edwina would have approved of Patricia.  His father had.  But Nicollette, they would have adored.  Nicki was as untamed and free as their beloved Scotland. 

    
             
Upon Patricia's death, he’d become a tortured man, but tonight his demons pursued him without mercy.

    
             
Who was he to try to save a people from their bonds?  He was not God.  His was a foolish dream.  He looked at his goal with blinders on, as blind to the reality of the way things were as he'd accused Nicollette of being.

             
Nicki...Nicki...Everything he thought always went back to Nicollette.

    
             
For a few precious hours, his heart had melted and his hatred had dissolved.  But he knew without a doubt that his pursuit and hatred was an unrelenting and unforgiving sickness with him.  Not even the soft embrace and the scalding kisses of his beautiful, young Creole could erase or ease it.

             
He would kill Ricard Duplantier even if he had to hang for it.

    
             
Jared had tasted paradise with Nicollette in his arms.  But he'd made a terrible, terrible mistake, though he had tried so hard to avoid it.

    
             
Another thought came to him.  Suppose his thoughtless, self
ish act had resulted in his seed finding its target, and he'd filled Nicki with his bairn?  He did not want to think about it.

             
He would continue as the Black Rider.  Rags depended on him.  Zeke

depended on him.  'Twas the one good thing he could continue to do.  As he saw the lazy fingers of dawn claw away the darkness, his overwhelming obsession threatened to destroy him.

             
His questions and thoughts still haunted him as he started out for

Highland Acres late in the day, after leaving Fleming Carriage Company.

             
He was needed there for the foals that were due.  He was needed there for

a lot of things.  But he didn't relish going there and facing Nicki.

             
He had to tell
her
that their
night of passion was a mistake!

35

    
             
Angus relayed Jared's message to Mary Douglas and Elizabeth, telling them not to expect the master before noon the next day.

    
             
Dread filled Nicki and doubt gnawed at her, but she didn't say anything.  Missing Jared terribly, she ate alone in the dining room that night.  She dared to hope that he'd miss her just as much and come home that night.  She went to bed refusing to believe his absence was because of a liaison with Judith.

    
             
Awakening the next morning, her heart once again swelled with the anticipation of seeing Jared.   At the noontime meal, she ate in hurt silence.  Afterwards, she sat on the gallery, awaiting any sign of Jared, a murderous anger starting to slowly simmer in her.  She was vaguely aware of someone always near her as the minutes leisurely ate away the day.  The fiery hues of sunset turned into long, gray shadows of dusk.

    
             
She finally rose and went into the house, wondering what dreadful mistake she had made in letting Jared make love to her.

    
             
Nicollette's heartstrings tightened.  She had been waiting with great anticipation to see Jared again.  And now...

    
             
How could he?  How dare he?  How, after what happened between them, could he go to the arms of another woman?

    
             
Filled with wrenching anguish and burning fury, she couldn't wait to get her claws into him when he returned.  She could easily kill him herself and save the authorities that task.  She could do it and feel no remorse whatsoever!

    
             
She took her supper in her bedchamber.  Too angry to eat or to cry, she vowed he would pay dearly for this betrayal.  Tossing and turning the entire night,  she fumed all the more because she knew Jared, whether he slept or was otherwise engaged, en
joyed a pleasant, relaxing evening.

    
             
Dawn crept upon Nicki, finding her still awake and her mood not much improved.  At breakfast she ate in silence, scowling and glaring at everyone, and taking umbrage at anything said to her.  Completing her meal, she went out onto the gallery to sit and read.  It irritated her even more than she already was to see Mary Douglas come out and sit with her.

    
             
"I don't need company, Mary Douglas," she said with ire, not looking up from her book.

    
             
"I willa noot bother ye, lassie," Mary Douglas promised.  "I willa be quiet as a wee mouse."

    
             
"Why are you out here, Mary Douglas?" Nicollette asked tes
tily, glaring at her.

    
             
"I canna leave ye alone," Mary Douglas confessed.  "The master wouldna like it if ye ran away again."

    
             
"Who cares what the master likes?" Nicollette snapped, her pulse ticking furiously in her throat.

    
             
"We be caring, lassie," came the simple reply.  "Master Jared 'as a fierce temper, 'e 'as.  'E dinna mean some o' the things he be saying, but ye never ken if 'e carra 'is threats oot one day."

    
             
Nicki put the book down.  Being watched from a distance was bad enough.  But being forced to abide Mary Douglas at her side all day was more than she could take.  She wanted her out of her sight.  "Mary Douglas, do you think the master would object if I used some of his best scotch whisky for a special drink?" she asked sweetly.

             
"Seein' 'tis ye, nay, I dinna think 'e willa care."

    
             
"Good.  I would like to share my secret drink with you, Mary Douglas.  Lemon tea with a sprig of mint and an ounce of scotch.  It's a very delicious drink.  Very delicious," Nicki stressed.  Seeing as how she'd just thought of the con
coction she had absolutely no idea how lemon tea with scotch
whisky would taste.  It bored her that Mary Douglas was so gullible.  She knew she could easily convince Mary that it was a most delicious beverage and all the rage in New York. 

    
             
Mary Douglas liked the young lassie, who she suspected had crept her way into her lord's heart.  Though she refused to leave Nicki alone for fear of Jared's wrath, she was eager to try Nicollette's new drink.  She had Elizabeth prepare the tea and bring it and the whisky to the gallery.  "'Tis noot bad, lassie," she said at first taste.  Sipping slowly and ladylike, she savored every sip she took.  "'Tis verra, verra good, wee Nicki," Mary Douglas said after swallowing the last drop of the first six ounce cup of "tea".

    
             
Nicollette's eyes widened. 
This concoction works quickly.  Mary Douglas is already drunk!  "Wee" Nicki?  She never calls me anything but lassie.
  She chuckled with delight and didn't try to stop Mary from fixing herself another drink.  Leaving out the scotch, she poured tea for herself.  "I'm so glad you like it as much as I do, Mary Douglas."