Underground Captive (68 page)

             
Blanche stud
ied Ricard as a mother would.  He'd changed.  Drastically.  Gone was the timid, lanky boy.  He had always been a handsome youth.  Actually he'd been beautiful, almost too beautiful to be a man.  Now there was strength, authority, and a sense of fearlessness about him, even an air of arrogance.  So, too, had that awkward beauty left.  He was still beauti
ful, but there was no mistaking his masculinity or the muscles in his body.  Marie-Claude would have been proud.  Blanche was.

    
             
Ricard handed Blanche a goblet of red wine.  The snifter of brandy he held for himself, he placed on the table and walked to the fireplace to rekindle its dying flames.  It was storming out
side.  Otherwise, he would be out riding Omri.  He had yet to return to his boarding house to retrieve Yvonne's Pride.  Maybe he would just leave the horse there and put that part of his life behind him where it belonged.  But he couldn't do that as long as Jared meant to kill him.

    
             
1860.  What kind of year would this be?  Ricard ran his fingers through his hair then walked back to his seat across from his
tante
, retrieved his brandy from the table, and sat down.

    
             
"I haven't had the chance to talk to you alone since my return or give my personal congratulations on your marriage.  I'm happy for you."  Dismissing his black thoughts for the mo
ment, he gave his
tante
a roguish wink.

    
             
"
Merci
,
cheri
, for your happiness for me.  But I know you've had a lot on your mind.  You searched for Nicki for almost five months."  Blanche stopped and laughed.  "Well, I see your point.  It seems you could have found one day to visit Michel and me on the Teche."

    
             
"
Oui
, I could have."  He didn't return her smile.  Shifting in his seat, he scowled.

    
             
Blanche frowned, setting her glass down.  "What is it, Ricard?"

    
             
"It is so many things.  Nicki, her new husband, Governor Moore, my past, John Brown...."  His voice trailed off and he took a gulp of his brandy.

             
"John Brown?  The abolitionist?"

             
"One and the same."

    
             
"What does he have to do with this, Ricard?  He's dead.  He's no longer a threat to anyone.  And Governor Moore was only just elected.  There's nothing to worry about there.  He's a planter like your father, as you will be one day."

    
             
Ricard mentally groaned at the assumption that he'd inherit Crescent Wood and its slaves, but he chose to ignore it.  "John Brown is as much a threat now as he was when he was alive.  He's a martyred man.  No, he's a martyred prophet," he corrected bitterly.

             
"Prophet!  Ricard, how much have you had to drink?"

             
"Not much.  This is my first glass."

    
             
"Than you are delirious with worry for your sister.  John Brown a prophet!  Bah!"

    
             
"He swore that only bloodshed would see our country atoned for the sin of slavery." Ricard bounded from his seat.  "How are you supposed to forget such an omen?"

    
             
"
Cheri
, the man was insane and so are you to believe that he was a prophet.  His words were not prophetic.  They were rhetoric.  America will never go to war against itself."  Blanche eyed Ricard suspiciously.  "Did you agree with him?" she asked, barely audible.

    
             
"No," he answered honestly.  "At least not with his violence.  But I think his words were an epithet for the South,
Tante
Blanche.  John Brown's execution was enough to make the country more divided.  If another tragedy strikes, it'll be war for sure."

    
             
"If, Ricard.  If is the worst word in any language," Blanche rebuffed, ignoring the implications that her nephew had Northern sentiments.

    
             
"I know that, but it exists.  Just as the sec
tional tension.  I didn't agree with John Brown's tactics and policies but the way everything is going, we're headed straight for war."  Ricard paced up and down in front of the fireplace.  "'If' is a small word with large implications."

    
             
The tension and anxiety in him seeped into every part of his body.  If it came to war, which side would he choose?  He'd risked his life for almost two years as Captain Blossom, but in war, if he sided with the North, he may one day look down the barrel of a gun and see his father on the other side or vice versa.

    
             
No, if it did come to war, it would be over quickly.  After a little bloodshed, it would be over and done with.  Finished.  Then, he'd purchase another boat and continue as Captain Blossom.

    
             
Ricard wondered what had happened to the infamous Black Rider.  The countryside had been relatively quiet since the night the Ghost Ship exploded....

             
A sudden thought struck him.

             
Jared?  Of course.  Jared!  The voice fit!  The height, the bearing--

everything
fit!

    
             
"
Tante
Blanche, how did Nicki come to be with Jared Fleming?" Ricard asked, his back to his
tante
.

    
             
"Jared rescued Nicki from the clutches of the Black Rider after your sister tore off the blackguard's mask and revealed his face.  Jared hid her for safety's sake.  Or so they claim."

    
             
Ricard swung around.  "You don't believe them?"

    
             
Blanche shrugged.  "Yes, I do.  I just regret not being there for Nicki's wedding."

             
"Oh."  Ricard nodded thoughtfully. 
Could it be?

             
"Why do you ask?"

    
             
Ricard waved his hand in dismissal.  "No reason.  Jared should have tanned Nicki's bottom for doing such a stupid thing.  What kind of man or woman would tear off the mask of a bastard with such a ferocious reputation as the Black Rider?" 
And survive?  Unless, the man's true feelings prevented him from harming her.  Jared's feelings.

    
             
Blanche shook her head sadly.  "Only Nicki.  That girl and her fearlessness truly amazes me.  But whatever she did is past."

    
             
Ricard's thoughts left his speculation on Jared and focused on Nicki.  "Yes, it is.  Nicki is everyone's light.  Without her, there's nothing.  I think I'd grieve to death if she died."

    
             
Blanche gazed at Ricard, her eyes filling with tears.  "Oh
cheri
, you would survive.  She is your sister and I know how you love her but you survived your mother's death."

    
             
Ricard bowed his head.  And Yvonne's, he thought.  But Nicki's death would be the final blow.  He wouldn't be able to stand it.

   
             
Blanche regarded her nephew silently. 
Oui
, he would survive Nicki's death but she knew one man who wouldn't.  As grief-stricken as Jared was now, if Nicki died, her nephew-in-law wouldn't be far behind.

48    

             
On the tenth day after her arrival, Odessa and Jared coaxed one of the slave woman's herbal teas into the nearly emaciated Nicollette.  It didn't come up.  Two hours later, she was given a little more than the first time.  That too stayed down.

             
Jared breathed a sigh of relief, smiling for the first time since he'd arrived at Crescent Wood.  "Oh sweet angel, I can't tell ye how happy I am that ye didn't bring it up." 

    
             
Nicollette sat propped against several pillows.  She caressed him with a loving look.  "So am I,
amour
," she said weakly.

    
             
"Mam'zelle, I go make chicken soup, me," Odessa chirped.  "And you eat that too, you.  You have to start feeding the bebe in your belly, else he die, him!"  She gave Nicollette a wide, toothy grin then turned to Jared.  "Do you want me to tell Masta Charles 'bout mam'zelle, Masta Jared?"

             
Jared glanced at Nicollette and she nodded.

    
             
"Aye, Odessa."  He smiled.  "Ye may tell Charles he can see Nicki."

    
             
"Merci, Masta."  Odessa ran out of the room.

    
             
Nicollette laughed softly at the slave's enthusiasm.  "I guess they'll all be here in a minute."

    
             
"Aye," Jared agreed.  "They can see ye for a moment, but I want ye to myself."

    
             
Nicollette smiled, hearing the love in his voice.  Her words proved correct.  It seemed no sooner had Odessa gone down to inform the Duplantier family of Nicki's improvement than Charles was opening the door to the chamber.

    
             
"May I see my daughter, Jared?" Charles ground out.

    
             
"Of course ye may, Charles," Jared answered in an amiable tone, moving from Nicki's side and allowing Charles to take his place.

             
"
Ma cherie
, how are you?  Are you better?"

             
"
Oui
, Pa Pa," Nicki drawled softly.

    
             
Her father looked at her, his eyes traveling to the roundness of her belly.  Once again, he raised accusing blue eyes to Jared, who narrowed his hazel eyes in warning.

    
             
Nicki saw the looks.  "Pa Pa, don't blame Jared.  As I said, he only sought to protect me from that miserable, slimy, slither
ing grass inhabitant...."  She swallowed back a giggle at the deepening frown on Jared's face.

    
             
Seeing Nicki’s amusement, Jared winked at her. 
Aye, Nicki is better.

    
             
"Please, Pa Pa.  Jared couldn't bring me back or inform you of my whereabouts.  Not only did he seek to protect me but you and our entire family."

    
             
"I didn't hear that the Black Rider had been captured," Charles sneered.  "Why did he decide to return you?"

             
"I-I asked to be brought to Crescent Wood to see you all again before I died."

             
Charles coughed and his eyes widened.  "Died?"

             
"
Oui
.  I was so sick I thought I was going to die and I wanted to die at Crescent Wood.

    
             
"Jared is your friend."  Nicki laid a gentle hand on her father.  "Don't let your pride split this family apart."

             
Charles sighed deeply.

             
"Don't fret, Nicki.  Yer father and I will mend our fences...."

    
             
"That may be impossible, Jared, with your intention to kill my son!" Charles said resentfully.  "I no longer have a problem with your marriage to my daughter."

    
             
Nicki gasped, her eyes darting between her husband and her father.

    
             
Jared met Charles' stare with an unwavering glare of his own, neither denying nor confirming what Charles said.  Odessa chose that moment to walk back in, diffusing a situation that could grow deadly.

             
Charles looked at the slave woman then back to Jared.  "Lord Fleming,

may the rest of my daughter's family come to visit her?"

    
             
Nicki glanced worriedly at Jared.  Neither of them had to ask where Charles got his information.  They both knew Mary Douglas.