Underground Captive (69 page)

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Authors: Elisabeth-Cristine Analise

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"Charles, that matter is for Ricard and me to settle as I see fit.  If ye know what is best, ye'll let the matter rest for now.  I would not have my wife upset.  In answer to yer question, aye, yer entire family may visit my wife for a little while."

    
             
"Odessa, please inform the others that they may come up," Blanche stated from the doorway.  "Gentlemen, please, have mercy upon Nicollette.  It's bad enough she has to live with the knowledge that there are three ill-natured men living under the same roof."  She cast a warn
ing to her hotheaded brother and an uncertain gaze to her hot
-tempered nephew-in-law.  "
Petit
, how are you?"  Hurrying to Nicki, she perched herself on the edge of the bed.  She displaced Charles then embraced Nicki.

    
             
"I am better,
Tante
Blanche.  I have never felt so terrible.  I thought I was going to die."

    
             
Out of the corner of her eye, Blanche saw Jared's worried gaze before he retreated to the veranda door to stare out.  "Hush,
petit
.  It is just the babe inside you making you ill."

             
Nicki smiled shyly.  "
Oui
,
Tante
Blanche."

             
Blanche took Nicki's hands in each of her own, giving her a reassuring

smile.

   
             
Antoinette and Michel walked in, each inquiring about Nicki's health, each casting dubious glances at Jared, who still stared out of the wide doors.

             
A daunting silence descended upon the room in an instant.  Jared turned

slowly from the doors, knowing instinctively whose gaze he would meet.

    
             
Ricard stood in the doorway, his green eyes transfixed in Jared's direction.  Piercing emerald gaze met penetrating hazel glower.  Each man gave the other the once over.  Each could be compared to a sleek cat facing a menacing adversary.  However, Jared was by far the more formidable looking.  And though Ricard was not the sniveling coward everyone once said he was, he could never hope to match the cold, murderous rage in Jared's eyes.

             
The two men stood tensely poised for several moments, setting everyone on

edge as they gritted their teeth in frustration and worry.

    
             
"R-Ricard?" Nicki asked in a childlike voice.  It was almost more than she could bear.  Two of the three men she loved dearly were destined to meet on the dueling field.  Ricard was her love.  Jared was her life.  For her sake, Jared had stalled his quest.  But it wouldn't last.  She raised pleading eyes to him.
             
"J-Jared?"

    
             
Softening his features, Jared gave Nicki a tender half-smile.  The tears in her amethyst eyes caused his heart to pull painfully.  He asked for the impossible in silent entreaty.  His eyes appealed to her for forgiveness and understanding.

    
             
The mute imploration from a man who had, henceforth, proved fearless and proud; and the heartbreaking desperation from a girl who was at one time haughty and defiant, were enough to send Blanche and Antoinette from the pathetic situation.

    
             
Only then did Ricard step further into the room--to let Blanche and Antoinette exit.

    
             
"If ye all will excuse me, I must seek out Mary Douglas.  I will give ye all five minutes.  I don't want my wife to become tired.  Angus will see that my orders are carried out if I haven't returned."  Without another word, Jared left.

    
             
Ricard let out a weary sigh, realizing then that he'd been holding his breath while the arrogant Lord Fleming spoke.  His time with Jared would come later.  At the moment, he only wanted to reacquaint himself with his sister, reassure himself that she was better, and assuage her fears.

    
             
He walked to the canopied bed and sat, taking Nicki into his arms.  Holding her against his chest, he gently rubbed his hand over the swell of her belly.  "I can't believe it, my little brat, you're to have a child."

    
             
Tears streamed down Nicki's cheeks.  "Oh, Ricard, I've missed you so," she sobbed, holding onto him tightly.

    
             
Charles and Michel discreetly exited the room.

   
             
"So I've heard you missed me.  Enough to risk your life.  Mary Douglas mentioned you ventured to the Red Dog Saloon."

    
             
Nicollette giggled but then sobered, realizing that part of Jared's murderous look was because of Mary Douglas.  She moaned.

             
"What, Nicki?" Ricard asked, alarmed.  "Is it the babe?"

             
"
Non
.  It's Jared.  Jared is going to kill Mary Douglas."

    
             
"Seems to me he is going to kill several people," he said dryly.  "But rest assured.  I don't think the others will allow any harm to befall Mary Douglas."

    
             
Nicollette cast a skeptical gaze to Ricard, saying a silent prayer that Jared be merciful to poor, kind-hearted, witless Mary Douglas.

 

49    

             
Mary Douglas sat on the veranda with her pudgy legs crossed, serenely sipping on a tall glass of tart lemonade, humming, off-key, an otherwise happy tune.  At the moment, she had nothing to do.  She was waiting patiently for Lord Jared to let her see her Lady Nicollette.

    
             
The humming grew louder as her thoughts deepened.  A sudden chill ran along her spine.  Turning, she met Jared's deadly glare.  Mary Douglas started to speak, but he raised a hand to silence her.

             
"Mary Douglas...."  Jared's voice was low, angry, and unmistakably menacing.

   
             
"Milord!"  Her hand flew to her mouth as Jared advanced upon her much like a swooping hawk upon its prey.  Shielding her face with her hands, she let out a frightened howl.

             
Jared leaned over her threateningly, speaking in measured, acid tones.  "Mary Douglas, put yer hands down."

             
She complied, trembling visibly.

    
             
Jared's eyes bored into hers and he spoke in low tones.  "I know ye are not so bloody addle-brained that ye forget as much as ye claim to let all of my secrets roll from yer loose tongue.  Ye have yet to tell anyone that I am the Black Rider.  Ye have the sense to keep yer mouth shut to save yer own miserable hide and not get hung.  But if ye don't hold yer blasted tongue from now on, I will personally hang ye from the highest tree and send yer body back to Scotland stuffed in a bloody barrel!"  He said the last sentence through clenched teeth, his hazel eyes glowing gold with anger, his voice rising in tempo.  He went from barely above a whisper to a loud angry growl on each new word he spewed forth.

    
             
In the next second, Jared was sure that even the dead in Scotland would raise at Mary Douglas's ear piercing wails.  When her wails quieted, she turned to loud shrieks and pleas.  The sound of her voice drew most of the inhabitants from the house and nearby fields.

   
             
"Naaaaayyyyy, M'lord Jared! Naaayyy, dinna kill me and stuff me in a barrel.  'Twill 'urt tae be stuffed in a barrel," she said, sobbing hysterically.  "I dinna mean tae say that ye were the seventh earl o' Lismore.  And I dinna mean tae say ye are goin' tae ki--"

    
             
"Mary Douglas, get ye to yer quarters and stay there lest I carry forth my threat," Jared bellowed, causing another loud cry to come from her.

    
             
He realized what an audience they had acquired and stepped aside to allow Mary Douglas passing space.  She quickly lumbered forward to elude Jared's imagined grasp.  When she reached the double entrance doors of the manor, the spectators from the house parted to let the sobbing woman pass.

    
             
"Mary Douglas, woman, if ye disturb Nicki with yer loud bab
bling, ye'll have hell to pay," Jared called as he, too, went through the parted line of people, which included an amused Ricard, an amazed Charles, a fretful Antoinette, an exasperated Blanche, a bewildered Michel, an understanding Angus, a fearful Elizabeth, a gawking Sophie, a surprised Odessa, and several other houseslaves with various reactions.

    
             
Mary Douglas heard her master's angry footsteps and stepped aside, clawing at the wall covering.  She and the others watched the Earl of Lismore in fearsome awe.  He stalked up the winding staircase, casting violent glances toward Mary Douglas, who dropped to the floor on her knees.  She switched her loud wails to loud prayers.

    
             
"Mother of Mary, 'Eavenly Father, let Milord Jared's sanity return sae 'e won't 'ang me an' stuff me in a barrel!"

    
             
Her answer was a loud slamming of a door from the second level.  It caused a painting on the wall to tilt precariously near Mary Douglas and she once again began to scream as though the noose had already been placed about her fat neck.

    
             
Blanche walked over to Mary Douglas.  Taking her hand, she led Mary to the parlor.

    
             
"Come, Mary Douglas, I'll have Sophie make you a cup of tea to calm your nerves," Blanche said, a gentle softness in her voice, her eyes, warm and understanding.

    
             
"I be thankin' ye, mum," Mary Douglas whimpered.  "But I be thankin' ye more if ye makes me special tea wi' scotch in it."

    
             
Blanche smiled.  "That should be a real nerve calmer.  We'll see what we can do."

*  *  *

    
             
"Jared, what did you do to poor Mary?" Nicki asked as he slammed the door.  Worrying her bottom lip, she cast a troubled glance at him.

    
             
"Why don't ye ask me what I would
like
to do to her," Jared grumbled, sitting on the side of the bed and removing his boots.

    
             
Letting out a breath of relief, relaxing her taut nerves, Nicollette chuckled.  "
Amour,
please try and curb your fierce temper," she chas
tised.   "Why, such unchecked anger could cause you to fall over with apoplexy.  I want our child to know its father."

   
             
"
Its
father?" Jared repeated, climbing into bed, pulling her into his embrace.  "Ye mean
his
father."

    
             
"Well, has it ever occurred to you that we may have a daughter?"

    
             
"Nay!  Never!  I won't allow it!  Only a son can afford to be born to two people possessing such murderous tempers as we," Jared said with mock gruffness.

    
             
"Surely you aren't suggesting
I
have a murderous temper,
mon amour
?"

    
             
"'Twas only the grace of God that saved Highland Acres and my staff from yer unreasonable wrath."

    
             
"Unreasonable!  Unreasonable?  You call my reaction to being held captive, and then later your threats to kill Ricard, unreasonable?" Nicki asked testily.

    
             
Jared narrowed his eyes at his wife.  "Softly, my sweet.  Ye must not upset yerself.  Ye must think of the wee one ye carry," he said in low, warning tones.  "But I won't deceive ye, Nicki.  Ricard
will
be reckoned with.  I cannot find it in my heart to forgive him.  And as for ye being my captive, well, ye still are.  Ye're my captive for life now.  I love ye.  And ye've told me that ye love me.  But not even for the continuation of yer love will I lie to ye.  Sooner or later, I will settle with Ricard."

    
             
Nicollette couldn't stop the tears from springing forth as she listened to Jared's words.  It was like a death sentence for herself.  Surely, only one of them would emerge alive from a duel.

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