Underground Captive (67 page)

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Authors: Elisabeth-Cristine Analise

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"Now, where is the master bedchamber, Charles?  I intend to stay here with my wife and I want her to be comfortable!"

    
             
Sophie ran in front of him.  "I'll show you, Masta Jared!"

    
             
By now, Blanche had found her voice.  "Charles, send Zeke after Doctor Caron."

    
             
"I don't want that little know-nothing medicine man touching my wife!" Jared scoffed.  "Angus!"

    
             
"Aye, master," Angus answered.  "I willa be going after Odessa now."

    
             
"Take King George," Jared ordered.  "And don't spare him.  Get a carriage from the city to come back.  Get the fastest horses available.  Now go!"

    
             
Jared followed Sophie upstairs to Charles's bedchamber.  A large room, it boasted stained hardwood floors and a high ceiling.  He laid Nicollette on the bed, removed her blankets, and gently tucked her in.

             
"J-Jared, y-you hit m-my father," she sobbed.

    
             
"My Nicki, please don't trouble yerself about that now, dar
ling.  Ye're too ill.  I want ye to lie still."

    
             
"P-promise me you won't fight anymore.”

             
"If ye promise me ye'll get well."

    
             
"All right, Jared.  I'll try.  I promise," Nicollette said wearily.  "H-hold me,
amour
."

    
             
Slipping off his boots and topcoat, Jared got into the big bed and drew Nicki into his arms.  "I love ye, Nicki," he whispered and kissed her on her mouth.

 

47

    
             
Nicki and Jared were married. 

             
What Charles had desired for so long was now reality.  But he still felt betrayed.  Eventually, he'd forgive Jared for keeping Nicki without telling him, her own father.  But how could Jared do such a thing?  Jared knew how he’d worried over Nicki.  He wouldn't have done anything to endanger his daughter's safety.  He would have al
lowed Jared to continue to hide Nicki.

    
             
Undeniable and dreadful reality struck Charles.  He wouldn't have allowed any such thing.  He would have insisted Jared deal with it differently and made him bring Nicki home.  He would have brought the authorities into it and probably endangered his daughter's life more than Jared ever had.

    
             
Charles didn't doubt for a moment that Jared must have thought long and hard about his actions before going through with such a deception.  Jared did it for Nicki.

    
             
Grudgingly, Charles conceded to Jared's tactics and silently forgave him for keeping Nicki without his knowledge.  But to secretly marry her.  Hell!  He was happy Jared was finally his son-in-law, but how dare the man punch him as though he were a common criminal?  How dare he take over Crescent Wood?

    
             
"I want Doctor Caron here immediately to look after my daughter," Charles said grouchily, when he was able to gain some semblance of his dignity back.  He held a damp cloth to the side of his jaw, grateful that it wasn't broken.

    
             
"Naaaayyy!  Please Mister Charles.  Milord Jared willa noot 'ave it!  'E only wants the ebony lady tae care fer Lady Nicki.  'E's already noot 'appy wi' me and Elizabeth 'ere.  We dinna tell 'im 'ow sick our lady be.  'E 'as a fierce temper, 'e 'as.  'E dinna bring the lassie back sooner because 'e was waitin' fer the likes of yer son tae come home sae 'e could kill 'im fer mur
derin' 'is first wife, Lady Patricia.  'E knows yer son is the murderer because 'e found the snuffbox.  Sae please, Mister Charles dinna send fer the doctor.  The master dinna be in any mood tae cross."

    
             
Elizabeth's eyes widened.  Her mouth dropped open and she stared incredulously at Mary Douglas.  "'Ush Mary Douglas!" she said finally.  "Ye witless twit, if ye think Lord Jared was angry before, ye ha' just betta ge' ready fer the storm tae come!"

             
"Ohhh!  Ohhh!  I dinna mean tae say it!"

             
"Jared Fleming is a lord?" Blanche asked, amazed.    

             
Charles looked from Mary Douglas to Ricard and back again.  "My son killed Jared's wife?"

   
             
"I don't know what the lady is talking about," Ricard said apprehensively.  Could she be referring to that man and woman in the cabin four years ago?  As vague as Mary Douglas had been, Ricard remembered the snuffbox he thought he had lost!  He hadn't been able to find it since that night and aside from thinking of it on occasion, he hadn't often considered its whereabouts.  His father had given him the snuffbox on his sixteenth birthday, attempting to hasten his transformation into the man Charles thought Ricard should be.  He, hating snuff as he did, had never used it.  The only reason it had been with him that night was because he was leaving and he hadn't wanted to leave his father's gift behind.

    
             
"I'll get Sophie to make lunch for everyone," Antoinette mut
tered nervously, forgetting that they were already being served lunch when Jared arrived with Nicollette.

             
"Masta Charles, I done showed Masta Jared to yore bedchamber," Sophie said as she came back into the room.  "He done put Mam'zelle Nicollette to bed.  That chile show is some sick.  An' I ain't neva seen a man mo' worried then Masta Jared.  He love her something fierce, he do.

    
             
"Masta Charles, he done tole me to sen' Odessa right to Mam'zelle Nicollette when she gits here.  He said to sen' Angus up too.  An' he said to tell Miz Antoinette that he made me put yo' things an' her things in the hall.  He don' wants mam'zelle disturbed."

             
"What?" Charles thundered, bolting from his seat.  "The man has taken over my home, has intentions of killing my son and has kicked my wife and me out of our own bedchamber?  Well, damn it, I've had just about enough!  I am going to throw him out!  Come, Ricard, my son!"

    
             
Ricard folded his arms, staring at Charles as though he’d taken leave of his senses.

    
             
"Oh, sit down, Charles," Blanche admonished.  "Can't you see that Jared

isn't himself?  Haven't you heard anything his housemaid said?  He's worried sick about Nicki, which is who you should be thinking of right now instead of nursing your wounded pride.  I'm sure in time you'll learn the circumstances that brought them to this pass.  In the interim, stop acting like an ass!

    
             
"Jared is obviously very angry right now," she reasoned.  "And frankly, if I were you, I would rather tangle with a wild boar than with him."

    
             
"Blanche is right,
cheri
," Antoinette put in.  "Have you ever known Jared to be violent?  He's worried about Nicki.  Please, stay away from him for now.  He knows this is your house, Charles.  But Nicollette is your daughter and this was her house too, before she disappeared."

    
             
"What you say is true, Antoinette.  However, I won't have that man throwing me out of my own bedchamber," Charles stated adamantly, but an emotional wound had pierced his heart, as pain
ful as a physical one.

    
             
Jared planned to kill Ricard.  How long had he planned this?  It cut deeply.  But, paradoxically, Charles understood.  If Marie-Claude had been murdered, he'd want to avenge her death also.  What kind of torture must Jared be going through?

Ricard
could
kill Jared.  Shuddering at the thought, a dull bitterness consumed

Charles.

    
             
Ricard was his beloved son, whose absence he'd felt profoundly.  Could he ever forgive Jared if he murdered Ricard, no matter what the circumstances? 

Jared was his son-in-law, whose opinions he cherished.  He'd adopted Jared as his second son.  Could he live with the knowledge that his son had killed Jared, Nicki's husband?

    
             
Nicollette! His poor, little Nicki.  What she must be going through, knowing her husband planned to kill her brother.

    
             
Charles had to keep his anger in place to suffocate the intense misery, the raw torment, and the acute pain of foreboding searing through him.

    
             
"For Heaven's sake, Charles!" Blanche broke into his thoughts, oblivious to his anguish.  "Don't go seeking satisfac
tion and challenge him again.  Look what just happened.  You have a very bad habit of challenging Jared to duels.  I don't think he'll use a weapon at the moment.  I think the man is just angry enough to beat us all to death with his bare fists!  And I have no wish to get beaten senseless by an insane husband because of a father-in-law's stubbornness! For once, please try to keep a cool head!"

    
             
"
Tante
Blanche is right, Father," Ricard growled.  "Nicki needs calm right now.  Going to your bedchamber will cause anything but calm."

    
             
Charles’ penetrating glower intended to quell any more arguments from Ricard.

    
             
Narrowing his eyes, Ricard glared back.  "For once control your temper and your inclination to have everyone do as you say."

             
Still unconvinced, Charles's frown deepened.

    
             
"Jesus Christ!  Do it for Nicki!" Ricard exploded, his mouth thinning in anger at his father's stubbornness.

             
Charles took in an angry breath.

             
"Ricard!  Charles!" Blanche shouted in warning.  "It won't do any good

for the two of
you
to be at each other's throats."

    
             
"All right, damn it!  All right, I'll do it for Nicki," Charles ceded, and flinched as he pressed the towel to his swollen jaw.

*  *  *    

    
             
Though Ricard worried about Nicki, he wanted to confront Jared about Mary Douglas's accusations.  For his sister's sake, he didn't.  Now was not the time to confront Jared, who was consumed with a quiet, threatening rage.  Just by his glances and glowers, the man had almost everyone soundly intimidated.

             
Crescent Wood had been decorated the entire month of Decem
ber.  Though there had not been much joy in it with Nicollette missing, the house now was under a miasma of worry, fear, awe, and anger.  Sunday, December twenty-fifth eighteen hundred fifty-nine came and went in gloom for Ricard.

             
His father, also worried about Nicki, fumed at Jared's imperious autocracy, but he wisely kept his mouth shut in Jared's presence.  Ricard knew his father would demand many questions of Jared later.  Following Angus's wise counsel, everyone came when they were summoned and spoke to Jared when they were spoken to.

    
             
Once Jared's secret was out, everyone realized he really was nobility.  His bearing, his manner, were all noble and majestic.  He was Lord Jared Duncan Fleming, Seventh Earl of Lismore Castle.  He acted the part and was given his due, partly from fear and partly out of sheer awe of the man.

             
Jared was king of the castle, no matter that the castle he currently presided

over belonged to someone else.  His every order was instantly obeyed. Ricard, as well as everyone else couldn't deny his right as an earl.  His lordliness came naturally.

             
As naturally to him as obedience came to his Crescent Wood "subjects".

*  *  *

             
"Happy New Year, Ricard."  Blanche leaned down to kiss her nephew on his olive-complexioned cheek.

    
             
Smiling affectionately, Ricard stood from the wing-backed chair, and gave his
tante
a hug.  "Same to you,
ma belle tante
.  Sit.  Let me get you a drink."

    
             
"I'd like that,
cheri
." 

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