Underground Captive (55 page)
Read Underground Captive Online
Authors: Elisabeth-Cristine Analise
Jared turned to look at her. "Supper will be served at the usual time if ye care to join me," he said before stepping out of the room.
The cruelty in his tone alarmed Nicki. She had never seen that side of him before. But then he had never seen her do what she did. Knowing by his tone that he was serious, she stood trembling, her heart beating wildly, watching his retreating back disappear through the door. The wild clamoring of her heart and the sensational tingling of her flesh was more from desire than anger. And she hated him for making her want him.
She'd be damned to hell if she ever let him come near her again! He was as heartless and barbaric as the Americans. A Scottish lord? He was more like an American swine! From here on, she would only speak when spoken to. That went for everyone at Highland Acres. Although she knew she would be closely watched, she would keep her distance from all of them.
It was futile to try to escape again. She just had to hope that Jared would
soon find his quarry and hopefully his quarry would kill him!
Devastated and furious, she went to her bed to try to sleep.
* * *
Feelings of hunger and want coursed through every fiber of Jared's being. He'd tasted the achingly sweet magic of Nicki's kiss again. He wanted to slip his engorged shaft into the tender warmth and cling of her womanhood.
He crossed the hall to his bedchamber. The heat was oppress
ing. 'Twas only a couple days into August and there wouldn't be any relief in sight until mid-September. He took off his topcoat, then his waistcoat. It did nothing to cool him, so he stripped to his waist.
He was angry--with himself, with Nicollette, with the en
tire world. Going to the table that held the washbasin and the huge pitcher of water next to it, he poured a liberal amount of water into the basin, then soaked a washcloth. Wringing the water out, he pressed it to his now swollen eye.
"Bloody she-cat," he muttered. He knew he was angrier with Angus and Hugh than he had a right to be. Nicollette had shown him how formidable she could be. Angus and Hugh were just protecting life and limb, and probably all of Highland Acres, when they tied her up to restrain her.
Yet it had angered him to see her tied up, helpless and humiliated. And he knew how unhappy she was. He'd held her captive for almost eight months. He felt her contentiousness was justified. But, justified or not, she was still the most will
ful, stubborn, determined, peppery vixen he'd ever known.
He was angry with her partly because of what she did, but mostly because of the way she made him feel. Guilt, love, hate, pity. He hated her for making him love her so desperately. For he knew, 'twas a hopeless love. Guilt overwhelmed him for taking her virginity. Pity and guilt plagued him as he watched her struggle daily, and aye bravely, to deal with her captivity.
Still holding the cloth to his eye, he got up and went to his manchest. He opened the top drawer and took out a rosewood box. Unlatching it, he retrieved the hated contents, the silver snuffbox with the inscription, 'Ricard Duplantier, Crescent Wood' on it, and the pearl handled dagger with 'R.D.' inscribed on the hilt.
He studied the objects for a moment, narrowing his eyes at them, then put them back in their hiding place. Freshening the washcloth, he pressed it back against his eye then sat back down in the chair.
Why hadn't he caught up to Ricard Duplantier as yet? Was he trying hard enough? Why didn't he try to find him the first time Nicollette saw him the night of the opera? Although they were both masked, he'd come face to face with the man twice, once at the Duplantier plantation and recently at Falgout's plantation. In each of those meetings, Jared saw a man with the same dedications and convictions as his own. Was this the same man who had killed his wife and best friend? This man who stole from his very own father's plantation, indeed, his very own inheritance, to feed runaway slaves? What kind of a deceptive game was Ricard playing? What kind of contradiction was this?
Those questions plagued and tormented him. He needed answers and he was determined to get them, even if it took forever. Nicollette had just better dig in for the duration. And he vowed to himself to teach the little pepperpot a lesson the very next time she stepped out of line.
A yearning sensation raced through his loins and his heart constricted. If Patricia had to die that way, why couldn't her murderer be someone other than Ricard Duplantier? He had made a shamble of Jared's life, and indeed, his own family's lives. Jared held Nicollette captive while Charles grieved for her disappearance. Aye, Ricard Duplantier deserved to die. Besides committing two murders, he'd wreaked havoc on too many lives.
Jared got up and put on a crisp cotton shirt. He needed to talk to Angus and the rest of the staff about Nicollette. He felt that she would tow the line now, and such harsh, drastic treatment would not be necessary anymore. Just watch her from a safe distance.
'Twould be good advice for everyone around. She was too tempting to be near. He would not have kissed her so short a while ago if she hadn't bombarded him with everything that wasn't nailed down. He had to pretend to be hurt so she would stop.
He only intended to grab her when she knelt down beside him to check his "injuries", but all his emotions rushed to the surface at her touch. And he kissed her with love and lust, with hate and anger. With love. And want. Hungrily and desperately. And with hopelessness.
She invaded his thoughts and his will. Being near her was dan
gerous. He would avoid her as much as possible. He decided he would eat with the men today in the stables. And who knows? Perhaps every day thereafter.
The day he stopped loving Nicki, thinking of Nicki, and wanting Nicki, would be the day he died. Even after he settled his score with Ricard. After he returned to Scotland and married and settled down with a titled Scotswoman or a titled Englishman's daughter, who bore him heirs to Lismore Castle, Nicollette would still be in his heart, in his blood, in his soul. Not like Patricia, whose gentle love he'd always
cheri
sh, but as only Nicollette could be--vital, alive, beautiful and daring.
Jared drew in a breath as he opened the door. He'd ask Elizabeth to mix a poultice for his eye, then go out to the stables among the men and the horses. Whenever he worked shoulder to shoulder with the men he enjoyed the camaraderie, but he found a kind of solace among the beautiful, spirited animals.
Beautiful and spirited. Like Nicki.
He looked at her closed door before walking toward the stairs to go down, wondering if his mind would ever be free from thoughts of Nicollette Duplantier.
37
Nicki sat under the weeping willow, watching Malcolm and some of the field hands secure the horses, cows, pigs, chickens, geese and ducks in their respective shelters.
She found herself having to apologize to Mary Douglas once again. Mary accepted her apology, conceding it was partly her own fault for being so gluttonous. She liked the tea-laced, scotch whisky and thanked Nicollette for introducing her to a "new beverage". Since then, she’d had more at tea time, but in moderation.
Angus, Hugh, and Malcolm were also very forgiving of Nicki. They understood why her patience grew short and treated her the same as usual. Nicki knew how much they really liked her and for that reason she promised herself to be more cooperative.
They had all forgiven her. All but Jared. A whole monotonous month had gone by and she'd only seen him periodically during that time. Those meetings were accidental. They would pass one another in the hall or when one of them was either coming inside or going outside. She refused to let Jared see how much his deliberate snubs affected her.
He merely acknowledged her presence and went on his way, leaving her pretty much to herself and the knowledge that she was still being watched.
She had seen everything there was to see at Highland Acres a dozen times over and had grown strangely attached to it. Yet, she despised it. Leaning back on the trunk of the tree, a tear slid down her cheek. She grieved for another year passing in her life and no one noticing. Today was September first and she'd been nineteen exactly a month.
Nicki looked up at the ominous clouds in the sky then back in the distance at Jared's staff. Malcolm and his helpers worked more furiously to secure all the animals. The sudden wind whipped the low hanging branches of the willow, and they danced and swayed. Lightning flashed forebodingly across a wide arc in the heavens. The exploding sound of thunder followed. She shook where she sat. A startled, involuntary little cry reached her throat. Huge drops of rain began hesitantly.
Her memory told her this was the beginning of one of the very fierce storms that so frightened her. Still shaking, she stood and was surprised to see Jared, astride Satan, reach
ing down for her.
"Come on, Nicki," he said. "This looks like a bad one. I'll take ye back to the house." With incredible ease, he caught her around the waist and lifted her into the saddle.
"Thank you," she whispered. As frightened as she was, she only acknowledged his gesture of good will. Sitting sidesaddle, she leaned very stiffly away from him. But the rhythm of the horse's movements caused her to bounce against Jared's iron hard chest. She trembled now from the nearness of him. Her heart started its erratic rhythm in her chest and settled somewhere in her middle.
Satan's speed brought them to the house before Nicki's dis
comfort at Jared's nearness became evident.
Easing her down, Jared held her around her middle. Her breast brushed against the strained muscles of his arms. He'd kept his promise to himself and stayed as far away from Nicki as was possible in the past month. Now, her nearness tortured him; the feel of her firm breast brushing against his arm a fire brand on his flesh.
Nicollette stood looking up at him. He met and held her gaze.
"Get inside, Nicki," he said hoarsely. "I've got to get Satan to the stables. I'm a sitting duck up here for lightning bolts. I'll see ye later." He turned Satan and the horse galloped towards the stables.
Fear of the descending storm combined with her raw emotions towards Jared made her heart race frantically. She rushed inside. They were securing the win
dows and doors on the first level against the expected onslaught of the approaching storm.
The rain that had started so hesitantly came to an abrupt halt. However, throughout the afternoon the sky continued to blacken. Since late evening was already black as night, the pas
sage from the usual phases of the day into night went unnoticed.
Nicki did what she could to help. And this time it was Mary Douglas who offered
her
scotch-laced tea as a calming elixir before dinner and one after dinner, which Nicki only found tolerable to the tastebuds. Her nerves were too taut to enjoy anything. It was portentously still outside. The roaring boom of thunder sounded intermittently and lightning splashed against the windows.
Elizabeth and Mary Douglas cleaned the kitchen, washing and putting away the dinner dishes. Then Elizabeth, not easily ruffled, excused herself and went to her sleeping quarters, un
daunted by the approaching storm.
Mary Douglas stayed in the parlor with Nicki and drank one extra cup of tea and whisky. Soon she too, not by choice but necessity because of the last drink of special tea, had to retire to her quarters.