Underground Captive (76 page)

    
             
"Why don't you sell some of your slaves, Edmond?" Ricard suggested with a smirk.  "Or use them as collateral at the bank?"

    
             
Falgout stiffened.  "Your suggestion will be taken into con
sideration, sir.  I see no reason to continue this conversation."  He turned to Charles.  "Thank you for your hospitality,
monsieur
.  I'll take my leave now. 
Messieurs
."  He bowed his head and left.

             
"He can be a formidable foe," Charles said with some apprehension,

watching Falgout's retreating back.

             
Jared and Ricard looked at each other.

    
             
Ricard shrugged nonchalantly.  "Who knows, Father, maybe his opponents are even more formidable."

             
"
Opponents?
" Charles questioned.

             
"Did he say opponents, Charles, or is that what ye heard?"

             
Charles glinted from one to the other.  They stood side by side.  One fair,

with hair that gleamed like foxfire from the reflection of the chandeliers.  One dark, his hair so black, blue highlights shone when the light caught it.  Their dress was almost identical.  Jared's dark maroon top
coat, cream colored brocaded waistcoat and white shirt, except in color, matched Ricard's, whose choice of color was a deep forest-green topcoat.  Their boots glistened from the high polish on them.  Ricard, who at six feet two inches was slightly shorter than Jared but just as handsome, looked mischievously at his father.

    
             
Charles shook his head, his pride in both young men near to bursting.  "I know what I heard.  You said opponents," he muttered, walking away from them to mingle with the other guests.

    
             
Jared laughed.  "Ye will excuse me, Ricard.  I have a need to find my wife."

    
             
"The man I saw at the boat landing was forceful and full of authority.  God, what has my sister done to you?  Will she not allow you a moment of male companionship?" Ricard teased, whispering so only Jared heard.

    
             
"When ye finally allow yer heart a chance at love again, Ricard, we'll see how much jesting ye will be doing then," Jared said and left him with that.  As he went in search of Nicki, Phillipe Dureau intercepted him to engage him in conversa
tion.

*  *  *    

             
Smiling evilly, Edmond Falgout changed his mind about leaving right away and instead went in search of Nicollette.  He quickly found her outside.  "Lady Fleming, may I have a word with you?"

    
             
"Of course not, Edmond," Nicki said, not attempting to rise from her seat on the veranda.

             
Edmond held out his arm to Nicki, but she didn't take it.  "Please,

madam, it's very important that I speak to you.  I'll talk to you while engaging you in a dance."

    
             
Wordlessly, Nicki rose and walked, ram-rod straight in front of Edmond, to the dance floor.

    
             
As the music began, Edmond took her into his arms, but had second thoughts of telling Nicki about what his slaves told him about Ricard.  Maybe, this was the wrong place to blackmail Lady Fleming.  Edmond didn't want to face Jared in a duel.  But, if he told Nicki what he had to tell her without Jared's presence, chances were that Nicki would comply to his demands.

             
His beady blue eyes gleaming with a strange light, Edmond smiled at her.

             
"Well,
monsieur
?" Nicki snapped expectantly.

    
             
"I've changed my mind about telling you what I had to say.  I know I haven't ingratiated myself to you, Nicollette.  I want to apologize to you for my brazen, thoughtless outbursts."

             
Not up to causing a scene tonight, Nicki inclined her head in acknowledgment,

but only to his presence.  "Since your first thought wasn't an apology,
monsieur
, what

was it you wish to say to me?" 

    
             
"Well...ahhh...I would ask you to intervene on my behalf to the men in your family.  Neither one would deny you anything," Edmond said as charmingly as possible.

    
             
"
Monsieur
, for whatever reason you'd have me intervene for you, I must decline.  I wouldn't presume to try to sway my husband's decision on any matter.  That's also my policy with my father and my brother."

    
             
She gave him a look, that for all the world, reminded him of the stone-etched, hardened face of Lord Fleming.

             
Edmond held his own anger at bay, vowing to himself to try reason on this

haughty, little Creole bitch.

*  *  *

             
Jared stood, his back to the dance floor, still engaged in conversation with Phillipe, who'd been joined by Michel Foucher, Henri Robicheaux, and Charles.  It was nearing the end of the ball.  Favors were being passed out to the ladies; however, no one made a move to leave.

             
"I think Nicki should be getting back to Highland Acres, Jared," Ricard brusquely suggested, walking up to the men and interrupting the conversation.

             
Confusion and alarm in his eyes, Jared frowned at Ricard.  "Is Nicki ill?"

             
"Look toward the dance floor."

             
Jared turned, close enough to see every detail of Edmond's face.  He held Nicki tightly in his arms, a menacing fire in his eyes.

             
"Bloody hell," Jared growled, walking off from the men.

             
Nicki yawned, exhausted.

             
"Edmond, I think I'll sit the rest of the dance out."

             
"Nicki--" Edmond began.

    
             
"If ye're smart, ye'll oblige my wife," Jared said in a deadly calm manner, stalking up behind Falgout.

             
Without a word, Edmond released Nicki, who took the hand her husband held out to her.

    
             
"If ye ever touch Nicki again, for any reason, ye're a dead man," Jared said in that same quiet, hard manner, his eyes boring into Edmond's, promising swift punishment if Falgout disobeyed his order.

             
"Come, Jared," Nicki said, tugging on Jared's hand when she saw his look.

             
"Are ye okay?" Jared asked, walking back with her to where Charles and

Ricard now stood alone.

             
Nicki's answer was a nod and another yawn.  "Since I'm guest of honor and

co-hostess, protocol dictate I wait until my guests start to depart before taking my

leave," she petulantly said to no one in particular.

             
Ricard and Jared looked at one another in surprise, but Charles spoke.

    
             
"When have you began to worry about protocol?  If you're tired, you're tired.  You have the babe to think about," he said gruffly.

             
She let out a long exhausted sigh, swaying slightly, holding on to Jared.

             
"To hell with bloody protocol, Nicki," Jared announced, scooping

her up in his arms.  "Ben, have Lady Fleming's carriage brought to the front," he loudly ordered the slave nearest him.

             
All eyes turned in their direction.  Nicki circled her arms around his neck,

disregarding everyone except Jared.

             
"I'll get your wraps," Ricard said as Jared started to walk away.

    
             
The guests divided to make a path for them.  Then they fol
lowed them outside, crowding on the veranda and steps, straining for a view.

    
             
Ricard brought Jared's coat to the splendid white coach that awaited them and threw Nicollette's wrap around her.

    
             
Some of the guests viewed the carriage for the first time and the consensus was that it was perfect for the lord and his lady.

             
"Edmond bears watching, Jared," Ricard said, handing his coat over to

him.

             
"Aye," Jared agreed.  "I know."

*  *  *

    
             
"It really was a nice ball, amour," Nicki whispered softly as she lay in Jared's arms once back at Highland Acres.  "You and Ricard are getting on very well.  I'm so proud of you both.  Is it really sincere, Jared, or are you play acting for my benefit?"

    
             
"I genuinely like Ricard, Nicki.  He shares some of the same values and beliefs that I do.  He is very close to the person ye described.  But believe me, he is no coward.  And ye should know I would never pretend to like someone I didn't care for.  I like yer brother.  Now go to sleep," Jared said.  But that last state
ment was unnecessary.  Nicollette was already sound asleep.

  
             
A man totally contented, Jared was more than ready now to go back to Scotland.  But the arduous trip would be too much for Nicki in her condition.  He would give her time to recover fully after the birth of the bairn.  Besides, Charles and Ricard would get to see the new heir to Lismore Castle.

    
             
The only unsettling nuance was Nicki herself.  He'd be taking her so far away from everything she held dear.  And she was so young.  Adjusting might not come easy for her.  As wife of a titled, landed lord, she would have to shoulder a lot of respon
sibilities.  But Nicki had the kind of personality and mettle that would meet any challenge.

    
             
He would be glad to be leaving this land.  Talks of secession among Southern states grew more ominous.  With this being elec
tion year, anything could happen.

Jared knew some kind of confrontation between the Southern and Northern states was inevitable.  The hanging of John Brown precipitated matters in that direction.

The South's arrogance made it believe it was invincible.  Aye, he would be more than glad to leave this land.

    
             
He closed his eyes then.  A picture of Edmond Falgout's face came into his mind.  The face wasn't as telling as the eyes.  They were the eyes of a desperate man.

             
Desperate men did desperate things.

55    

             
A few weeks after the ball, Edmond sold off most of his slaves to save New Hope.  Being half-starved and badly scarred from the liberal use of the whip, they didn't bring the money he'd hoped for.  However, with incriminating information from his slaves, Edmond was sure Charles would comply with his wishes whenever the mood hit him to demand something from the Duplantiers.  The slaves said that Ricard had been seen as cap
tain of the Ghost Ship several times before the explosion, not as a prisoner as Ricard had told everyone.  That story had always sounded suspicious to Edmond.  Ricard, prisoner on a ship, forced to captain a boat for more than a year?  In all that time, he hadn't come across someone who could help him out of his situation?

             
It was no-account balderdash, the story Ricard told.  If Charles and the others were too stupid to realize that, Edmond sure as hell wasn't.  A couple of days into May, Edmond finally went to Crescent Wood.

             
"Charles, it's so good to see you again," he said pleasantly, despite the seething rage roiling in him.

    
             
"Of course, Edmond," Charles responded tonelessly, sitting on the veranda and enjoying the early May sunshine.  He indicated with a wave of his hand for Edmond to take a seat across from him.

    
             
"I hate to bother you with this again, but I have a most serious matter to discuss."  He passed his stodgy fingers through his gray-streaked, brown hair, feigning regret.

             
"Does it concern New Hope,
monsieur
?" Charles asked with rancor.  "I thought I explained to you--"