Underground Captive (70 page)

    
             
How could she go on living without Jared's kiss?  His touch?  Without his wondrous body and loving caresses?  How would it be never to see the darkly handsome features of Ricard again?  His loving smile and fierce protection of her?

    
             
"Nay, now, my angel," Jared soothed, looking into her tear-filled eyes.  "No tears.  There are some things that must be faced in this life.  I don't seek to murder yer brother.  I only seek justice for the senseless murders he committed.  He will have a more sporting chance than he gave his victims.  I can't change how I feel," he whispered.

    
             
"How can I make you know how I feel, Jared?  Our child may lose his father before he's born.  If you're killed I don't want to live," Nicollette sobbed.

    
             
Jared bent his head and kissed her mouth, salty with tears.  "Ask me for anything, milady, and I would gladly give my life in an effort to do it for ye," he implored.  "Anything but giving up my revenge on yer brother."

    
             
"Oh, why must men be so pigheaded?” Nicki wept.  “Is honor so important?  Is it going to make me a widow before I truly have a chance to be a wife?"

    
             
"Hush, darling, hush.  Ye'll make yerself sick again."  Jared held her tenderly against his chest.  "I promise ye, before I make any rash decisions concerning Ricard I'll talk to ye first.  That's all I can do, Nicki." 

             
Nicki eased herself out of Jared's arms.  "Is that suppose to make me feel better,
monsieur
?  Knowing that you'll come to me one day and tell me the time to kill Ricard has arrived?" 

             
Standing from the bed, he walked to the window.  "Enough, madam!  We will not discuss this again.  I'll not have ye going into a relapse."

             
Throwing the covers off her, Nicki sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.  "As if that would make a difference to you."

             
"'Twould, Nicki, 'twould.  But it won't come to that.  Ye mean too much to me."

             
She bristled.  "Then please give up this determination you have to kill my brother."

             
He turned and walked away from the window, coming to sit next to her.  "Let it go, Nicollette.  Ye mustn't let this come between us again."

             
Nicollette glared at him.  "You know how to stop it."

             
Jared rose from the bed and, threading his fingers through his hair, sighed

wearily.  "Ye need nourishment to keep up yer strength, my lady.  I'll see to it that ye get something to eat."

             
Nicollette looked at him with eyes like liquid pools.  "Will I ever be able to talk you out of this, my lord?"

             
Jared rested his hazel gaze on her face, bewilderment and anger etched into his features.  Without responding, he opened the door and, stepping into the hall, closed it behind him.

             
"I must," Nicki whispered to the closed door.  "To keep you and Ricard apart, I must!"

             
             
             
             
             
             
             
50

             
The more Ricard tried to ignore the truth, the more it persisted.  He couldn’t

postpone his day of reckoning with Nicki's husband forever, nor did he want  to.

    
             
He stood on the banks of the Mississippi by Crescent Wood's boat landing.  Recollections, vivid and painful, seared his mind.  Leaning against the trunk of an oak, engrossed in his thoughts, he didn't hear his father walk up behind him.

             
"Ricard?"  Charles laid a gentle hand on Ricard's shoulder.  "We need to

talk, my son."

             
Ricard turned to face his father, looking without wavering.  "About what,

Father?"

    
             
Charles let his hand drop to his side, unspoken worry and pain glittering in his blue eyes.  "I lost you once.  I can't lose you again.  Not to death.  Please, son, I need to know. What is this thing between you and Jared?"

    
             
Intense emotion settled into Ricard.  His smile was faint, sad.  He turned away, back toward the river, not wanting to see the weari
ness in his father's usually sparkling eyes.

    
             
"Is there any truth to Jared's accusations?"  Charles wanted to fit all the pieces together.   "I ask you again, Ricard, what is this between the two of you?"

    
             
"I don't know, Father," he said finally.  "But, whatever it is, it is between me and Jared.  I will settle it with him."  His voice, firm and authoritative, offered no room for argument.

             
"Do you know what Jared speaks of?"

    
             
Ricard passed a tense hand through his blue-black hair and let out an annoyed sigh.  "Stay out of it, Father," he said adamantly.

    
             
"How can I?" Charles’ voice rose with aggrava
tion.  "This family could be torn apart.  Do you know what Nicki must be going through?"

    
             
"Yes," he answered quietly, his annoyance gone, in its place torment.  "Nicki understands a man's honor.  If a bastard murdered my wife, I'd want justice also."

    
             
"Did you?" Charles asked, the question tearing at his heart.

    
             
"I was there.  However, I assure you justice was meted out on the night in question."  Ricard turned to face his father again, overcome with hurt and grief.  "If I can't get Jared to listen to reason, this family will soon hold a funeral.  Who's it will be is anyone's guess."

    
             
Charles pinned Ricard with an anguished, pleading stare.

    
             
Repeating his father's earlier action, Ricard laid a comforting hand on Charles's shoulder.  "I've learned how bittersweet, and fragile, life is--"

    
             
"Leave for a little while," Charles suggested, a flicker of hope in his voice.  "Until Nicki and I can make Jared see reason."

    
             
Ricard shook his head, removing his hand from his father's shoulder.  "I won't run, Father.  Besides, Jared has held this unquenchable hate for me for almost five years.  Leaving won't solve anything, it'll only make it worse."  He brushed past his father, stopping briefly, his back to Charles.  "Whatever the outcome of this tragedy, when you think of me, I want you to remember, I'm innocent.  Always remember that I'm innocent."

    
             
The wind blew then, catching his last two, tortured words, 'I'm innocent', on its breeze, leaving them echoing in Charles's brain.

51

    
             
Despite all of the gifts Jared had already given Nicollette for their wedding, he still showered her with more.  More jewelry.  More clothes.  And he ordered his carriage makers to build an elaborate white and gold colored coach, which was to be pulled by four of Jared's most beautiful rare, Russian Orlovs.  The car
riage, straight out of a fairy tale, was built in three weeks time, as long as it took Nicki to recover from her near fatal ordeal.

    
             
Still, the tension between them only intensified.  She refused to understand why he couldn't let go of his vengeance for Ricard and he refused to listen to reason.

    
             
On the day Angus was to deliver the carriage and horses to Crescent Wood, Jared sat in Charles's bedchamber, watching Nicol
lette as she put on a gown he'd just gifted her with.

    
             
"Oh Jared!  It's beautiful! 
Merci
," Nicki gushed as she whirled around in the cream colored gown, made of velvet, silk and lace.  She wanted desperately to reach her stubborn husband's sense of fair play.

    
             
"Nicollette!" Jared grumbled sternly.  "Ye shouldn't do that! Ye must remember yer condition!"

    
             
Nicki laughed and went into his arms.  "You worry too much,
mon amour
.  I feel fine.  Well enough to walk through the gar
dens.  Or even go to the theatre.  Jared, please, may we go to the theatre on Saturday?"

    
             
Jared wrapped his arms around her and laughed at her en
thusiasm.  "We'll see, Nicki."  Leaning down, he covered her mouth with his own.  His kiss was undemanding, full of love.  He savored the taste of her, the feel of her.  He raised his head at the light tap on the door.  Reluctantly, he released her, and gave permission to enter.

             
The door opened and Charles stepped in.

             
"Pa Pa!" Nicki raced up to him and kissed him.

    
             
Charles smiled, but his features were haggard, tired.  "Well," he said with a lightheartedness he didn't feel.  "Don't you look beautiful.  How are you feeling, Nicki?"

    
             
She flashed a tremulous smile.  The tension between her and Jared had extended to her and Charles.  "Wonderful, Pa Pa.  I want to go to the theatre."  She pinned him with a hopeful gaze.

    
             
"I'm afraid that decision will have to be made by your hus
band, Nicollette.  Not me," Charles said, rather nonplussed.  "Jared," he said, turning to him, "now that Nicollette is out of
my
bed and feeling better, I was wondering if both of you would consider having dinner with the family tonight."

   
             
"Oh, Jared, may we?"

    
             
Jared looked at the face of his lovely young wife.  The ex
pectation wrenched him.  How could he refuse her, knowing he must?  He'd slept under the same roof with Ricard for twenty-one days because he had to.  But he would be bloody damned if he would eat at the same table with him.  "Ye're very thoughtful, Charles.  I appreciate the gesture, but the answer is nay."

             
"Jared!" Nicki said, hurt and disappointed, the unquenchable anger toward

his refusal to give up his quest returning.  "Why can't we?"

    
             
He didn't turn around.  "Because I don't wish it," he said to Charles more harshly than necessary.

    
             
Charles regarded him a long moment.  "Ricard won't be dining with us," he said, his tone aggrieved.

    
             
Jared noticed Charles’ un
happiness.  In truth, he had other plans.  He was taking Nicki to the city to dine at Antoine's.  They would arrive there in the new carriage he planned to present to her.  He shrugged.  "The evening has already been scheduled, Charles."

    
             
Charles ground his teeth together then let out a sigh of frustration that almost came out as a groan, but his anger and resentment mounted.  "Very well, sir," he said stiffly and turned to leave, walk
ing right into Angus who was coming into the chamber as Charles started out.

    
             
"I'm beggin' yer pardon, sir," Angus said and brushed past him to get to Jared. "Master Jared," he said.  "Yer biddin, 'as been done.  G'day tae ye, Lady Nicki."

             
Nicollette nodded to him and looked up at Jared.  "What have you planned,
monsieur
?  Does it include me or has Ricard's day of reckoning finally arrived?"

    
             
Jared didn't answer her.  He released a tortured sigh and ignored her reference to his threats against Ricard.  Going to the ar
moire, taking out a cream-colored matching ankle length cloak to her velvet gown, he put it over her shoulders and fastened the pearl but
tons on the front.  Nicki's hair fell out from under the matching bonnet he placed on her head.

             
"Ye may tie yer bow," he said lovingly, forcing gaiety into his tone.

    
             
“Where are we going?  Don't keep me in suspense, Jared," she drawled, her pleading eyes meeting his in silent imploration, hoping his answer to her question about Ricard would arrest her fears.