Underground Captive (62 page)

             
Jared decided this would be Nicollette's trousseau, but if she wanted more, he would see to it that she got more.  She deserved it.  She was carrying his son, the eighth earl of Lismore.

             
He drifted to sleep, realizing she might very well be carrying his daughter.

*  *  *

             
The next day, Morgan and Jared sat in the dining salon of the Saint Charles Hotel, where Morgan resided.  Jared had explained his decision concerning Nicollette to his friend and now absently picked at his food.

             
Morgan drew in an agitated sigh.  "Marrying the lady under such circumstances, Jared, what kind of life would you have together?  It's fairly obvious, from what you've said, she doesn't hold you in the highest regards."

             
Laying his fork aside, Jared briefly rested his gaze on his friend.  "Highest regards?  She bloody hates me, Morgan.  However she's carrying my child.  Besides,
I
love
her
to distraction, though sometimes my actions may suggest otherwise."

             
"How do you intend to accomplish the marriage, my friend?  You can't bring her back to New Orleans for that purpose.  She would be recognized immediately, besides she, herself, devising all sorts of plans to escape."

             
Jared sighed.  "I know.  Bob Cyrus is in New Orleans.  I thought about asking him to perform the ceremony, but he's a Protestant minister."

             
"And being Catholic, Nicki would never accept her marriage performed by a Protestant minister."

             
Jared laughed softly.  "Ye know my intended almost as well as I do."

             
"You have a dilemma, Jared."

             
"Aye.  Nicki would scream bloody murder, then have the marriage annulled as soon as she could escape."

             
Morgan chuckled.

             
Jared quirked an eyebrow at him.

             
"I can see this predicament with the lovely Nicollette has you forgetting everything else.  Guess who's still in the city?" Morgan asked, still chuckling and ignoring Jared's glower and narrowed eyes.

             
"Obviously someone who's made
ye
very happy," Jared gritted out.  "'Tis obvious that ye've made light of my predicament."

             
"Keep a rein on that temper, Jared.  Peter will also make you very happy."

             
"Peter?"

             
"Father Peter McClafferty.  You do remember my mentioning him some months ago?'

             
Hope surged through Jared.  "Pete is still here?"

             
"Well, not in the hotel.  He's having a visit with the archbishop right now."

             
"Morgan, ye bloody bastard.  Why didn't ye say so in the first place?"

             
"Ye didn't ask," Morgan said, mocking Jared's speech.

             
"Do ye think he'll do it?"

             
"And keep quiet about it?"

             
"Aye.  He's yer boyhood friend.  Ye know him better than I do."

             
"Yes, Jared.  He doesn't know of Nicollette.  We'll just explain the urgency of the marriage.  Peter will probably severely reprimand you and give you five Hail Marys and ten Our Fathers to say, but he'll commend you for doing the right thing."

             
"The right thing," Jared snorted.  "The wedding's seven days from now.  Do ye think he can perform it then?"

             
Morgan shook his head.  "Do you contrive to give yourself bad luck?  Peter is leaving for St. Louis on the Mississippi Belle that day, Jared."

             
Jared laughed.  "'Twill be no problem.  Captain Arnold of the Mississippi Belle has to drop off my supplies before he heads North.  Instead of doing it the day before, I'll persuade him to do it on his way there.  Peter will be already aboard and he can come ashore and marry me and Nicki then."

             
"In that case, allow me to take care of all that, Jared."

             
"Aye.  I know Nicki will remember the way we'll be married, Morgan, because of the reasons.  But I want the best that can be done on such short notice."

             
"Jared, if you're willing to pay, the only passengers on the Mississippi Belle will be Peter, myself, and the musicians.  After all, we can't have a traveler recognizing the bride."

             
"Ye're a good friend, Morgan.  Nicki likes flowers, so I want as many fresh flowers that are available.  And, Morgan, I want ye to stand as my best man."

             
Morgan surveyed Jared a long moment.  "It's my extreme honor and distinct pleasure.  Thank you for asking me."  He stood.  "Jared, if I am to accomplish what's needed, I'd better get started.  I'll see you at your wedding."

             
"Aye, until then, my friend. "  Jared watched his retreating back.  He paid the tab, before he, too, got up and departed to check on Mignon's progress.

             
At the couturier, Mignon told him that though she and her assistants had been working around the clock for the past two and a half days, she had not one quarter com
pleted yet. 

             
"I need to get back home by the end of the week, Mignon."

             
Mignon gasped.  "But,
Monsieur
Fleming, that's impossible." 

             
Jared held up a hand to silence her.  "If ye have the wedding gown, its veil, and at least one of everything else I ordered finished by then, I'll double the money for the entire wardrobe."

             
That was all the incentive Mignon needed.

*  *  *

    
             
After being in her bedchamber for more than a week, Nicki ad
justed herself to the familiarity of her room.  Though she also adjusted herself to her constant companions, she had absolutely no privacy.  Either Elizabeth or Mary Douglas was with her at all times.  They even slept in the same room with her.  Someone also guarded the area below at all times.  She was never alone.  And she was beyond furious.  She was enraged with Jared.  He left her no dignity.  Elizabeth or Mary Douglas was even present when she attended her private needs.

    
             
Nicki was miserable.  She couldn't ride Urak mostly because she was not trusted to do so.  Adding to that was the weather, which was cold, bleak, and drizzly.  It just was not riding weather anymore.

    
             
She felt wretched.  Positive she should have been over her illness by now, she instead found herself always sick to her stomach.  Sometimes, the nausea kept her abed all day.  Her monthly hadn't returned, and her breasts were sore and slightly larger.  Whatever was wrong with her, she was sure it had something to do with the pneumonia she'd had, which added to the stress of her captivity.

    
             
With everything else, her general attitude wasn't helping her condition.  She had not seen Jared for nearly ten days and she concluded that he was either with Judith or out freeing slaves without the consent of their masters, or both.  Either way, whatever he was doing made him all the more despicable in her eyes.

    
             
She lounged in the parlor with the door open, reading a novel from Jared's vast collection of books, when she heard the sound of his voice and commotion in the foyer.  Jared ordered a trunk brought to his bedchamber then he asked about her.  Hearing his approaching footsteps, she went back to her book.

    
             
Moments later, Jared stepped just inside the doorway, resting one hand on the door handle.  "'Tis good to see ye're up and better, Nicollette," he said crisply.

             
"Thank you," Nicollette replied coolly, without looking up from her book.

             
"I would like a word with ye in my bedchamber."

             
"You put it in the form of a request but you're really commanding me, milord, so I don't see that I have a choice," Nicollette said with biting sarcasm.  Glowering at him, she threw the book down and shot to her feet.

    
             
"Nay," Jared said icily.  "Ye don't have a choice."  He stepped aside from the door entrance.  "After ye,
mademoiselle
," he sneered.

   
             
Angrily, she rushed past him.

             
He followed her up the staircase, watching the movements of her soft

curves with every determined step she took.

    
             
She stormed into his bedchamber, turned around, and faced him.  "All right,
my lord
, why have I been summoned here?"

    
             
Jared laughed mockingly.  "Try to contain yer anger, sweet Nicki, at least until ye hear what I've got to say."  He pointed to the chair next to the window.  "Please, sit down."

    
             
"I prefer standing, thank you."  Nicollette folded her arms, tapping her small foot defiantly.  "Please get on with what you have to say."

    
             
"Very well,
mademoiselle
, suit yerself."  He stalked over to the trunk that he'd had brought to his bedchamber and opened it.  On the top was the wedding gown.  Yards of satin and lace spilled out as he lifted it up.  He laid the dress on the bed.  "Yer wedding gown, Nicollette."

    
             
For once, she was speechless.  She stared at him in total disbelief.

    
             
"Imagine
ye
at a loss for words," he taunted.  "Well, I'll talk for both of us.  I've decided that we should marry, Nicol
lette.  Ye...ye know after what has passed between us ye have no choice or chance of marriage to anyone but me.  Father McClafferty will perform the ceremony."

    
             
Nicollette flinched.  "You're beneath contempt," she hissed, "and touched in the head if you think I'll accept your...your charitable proposal--"

             
"'Twas not a proposal, sweet Nicki," Jared interrupted, "but a decision

and a necessity."

             
"I don't care what it was," Nicollette flared.  "I will
not
marry you,

Monsieur
Fleming."

    
             
With studied calmness, he walked around the bed, sat on the chair, and prop
ped his long legs on the bed.  "Is yer esteemed father prepared to fight a duel a day to protect yer honor?"

    
             
Nicki stared at him.  How would anyone know that she was sullied unless she, herself, told them?  And she never, ever would.  She decided then and there that she would never marry.  Therefore, she'd have no husband to prove her innocence.  Jared would certainly not come forward and confess to so dastardly a deed as deflowering her in addition to all his other crimes.  She faced him and stood her ground.  "I'll
never
marry you, you obnoxious swine."

    
             
"Be careful what ye call me, sweet Nicki," Jared growled.  "Ye don't want to brand yerself.  Remember ye've lain with me in this very bed.  Swine are known to mate with sows!"

    
             
"You bastard!  Bring on your Father McClafferty.  We'll see whether he'll perform a marriage or summon the authorities after I tell him about you.  I can't wait to watch you hang!" Nicki said in a blaze of renewed anger.

    
             
Jared's lip curled into a sneer.  "'Twill be interesting to see who'll have yer attention more.  Me or yer erstwhile brother.  Believe me, Nicollette, he'll be swinging right along with me.  Perhaps even from the same tree!"

             
"R-Ricard?  Hang?  What do you m-m-mean?"

    
             
"I mean, Nicki, that yer brother is in the same business as I.  Freeing the slaves.  Why, ye're a witness to one of his forays yerself.  In case ye didn't make the connection that night, Ricard was the captain of the Ghost Ship.  Do ye think the slave owners will quibble about the manner in which their slaves were spirited away from them?  Indeed a ship is more effective than the land based escape.  I think ye'll marry me,
mademoiselle
.  Yer love for yer worthless brother is stronger than yer hatred for me."  Jared got up and walked to the door.  "Ye'll sleep in here tonight and every night hereafter.  I'll have yer things put back in here.  Father McClafferty will be per
forming our wedding ceremony tomorrow evening at six.  I suggest ye familiarize yerself with yer wedding gown.  I'm going down to get something to eat.  Ye may join me if ye like, Nicki."  He stared at her a minute, his expression unreadable as he watched her standing stock still, trying to grasp the meaning of her defeat at his hands.  She would surely marry him to save Ricard's life.