De Warenne Dynasty: The Prize Part 29

Now Devlin didn't answer her. They stood in the front hall of the Eastleigh mansion, Virginia aware of how miserably unkempt she was and how desperately she needed any help that her uncle could offer. She could not help but wring her hands, and she so wanted to make a good impression.

What if the entire matter of her ransom was instantly resolved? She dared to look at Devlin, oddly disturbed. If that were the case, she would be spending the night at Eastleigh and she doubted she would ever see Devlin O'Neill again.

Her heart lurched, leaving her in no doubt as to the state of her true feelings.

I am asking you to save my brother.

Virginia felt like telling Sean that she could not save his brother if he would not even have a decent conversation with her. "Devlin? I really need to freshen up," she said.

"Virginia, your appearance is fine," Devlin said, his attention clearly elsewhere. He had not glanced at her even once, he was so hugely preoccupied.

She trembled. "I so want to make a good impression," she whispered. "Not that you care."

He finally faced her and his eyes held hers. "Why? Eastleigh is nothing but a murderer and you know it for a fact."

She swallowed, queasy now with the impending affair, and said, "I need his help, which you know, or Sweet Briar will be lost. And Devlin, I don't know all the details of your father's death, but I doubt it was deliberate. I'm sure it was an accident, one that, with the pa.s.sage of so many years, you have re-created to be a deliberate act."

Devlin's eyes blazed. "When a man uses his sword to decapitate his victim, that is deliberate, Virginia," he said coldly.

She was so stunned that she was paralyzed. Images of a grotesque beheading a.s.sailed her. "Your father-he was beheaded?"

His face was flushed. But his tone continued to drip venom. "Yes, that is correct. I did not re-create the act with my imagination. I witnessed it firsthand, as did my poor mother."

"Oh, G.o.d," she gasped, reaching for his hand and squeezing it tightly.

For one moment he gazed at her palm as it covered his, and then he shook it off. "This is neither the time nor the place to discuss my father's death. Am I clear? You may greet your uncle and cousin as you will, but I will do most of the speaking."

She remained shocked. Her compa.s.sion for both Devlin and his mother knew no bounds. And her uncle had done this? But how could this be?

And now she really began to understand the depth of Devlin's scars. And Sean thought there was hope?

Suddenly a handsome man with regal bearing in a burgundy coat entered the room. His pale blue eyes were cool as he strode toward them, his air one of authority. Virginia flinched but knew he could not be her uncle; after all, he was only thirty or so, if that. "Captain O'Neill," he said, smiling, and it was more a baring of his teeth. "Welcome to Eastleigh." He bowed.

Devlin inclined his head. "Good afternoon, my lord," he said politely. "We have just arrived in Hamps.h.i.+re as we are on route to my estate, Wideacre." His mouth twisted into what might have been a smile, except Virginia knew it was a mere contortion of his lips. "However, your cousin expressed such an eagerness to be reunited with her family that I simply could not refuse her. Come, meet Miss Virginia Hughes."

William glanced at her, his expression mildly astonished, both dark brows lifted. "But I had heard, dear G.o.d, I had heard that she drowned aboard the Americana!" he cried. "I heard that there were no survivors!"

"You are mistaken. As you can see, Miss Hughes is very much alive." Devlin's eyes seemed to dance with glee.

"It is I, your cousin," Virginia managed, wis.h.i.+ng she was not there. "I have hardly drowned, as you can see."

William looked at her, his expression comically arranged-his eyes were hard but his face was not, it was arranged into the angles of surprise. "But how can this be?" Clearly mockery was in his tone. "The navy has said the Americana foundered in a gale. The statement was an official one. There were no survivors."

Now Devlin appeared incredulous. "You accuse Miss Hughes of treachery, of fraud?"

Virginia felt her cheeks heating.

"I have accused no one of anything," William said, his smile wide and fixed. "And I do apologize, Miss, er, Hughes, if I have given that impression."

"There was one survivor," Devlin returned smoothly, before Virginia could speak. "I know it for a fact, as I am the one who conducted her from the Americana to my s.h.i.+p."

"Well." William smiled again. "How odd this is! Two contradictory claims, it seems!"

"I suggest you summon the earl," Devlin said. But it was not a suggestion; clearly it was a command.

"I think I will do just that," William said, and relieved, he hurried from the hall.

Devlin glanced at Virginia, his gaze narrow with speculation and satisfaction. But Virginia was mortified. "He thinks I am an impostor," she whispered.

Devlin smiled. "He knows you are his cousin. He will insist until kingdom comes that you have drowned, however, in order to avoid any ransom and any future financial support which you are rightfully due."

"Can't this wait?" she pleaded.

His gaze hardened. "It cannot wait. It has waited too long. Surely you wish to meet the earl? Surely you wish to embrace your freedom?"

She inhaled harshly. "Not this way. Look at how impoverished they are!" she cried, gesturing at the hall. Some of the marble in the floor was cracked and chipped, the walls badly needed repainting, and a glance into an adjacent salon showed her a room filled with family treasures and heirlooms, but nothing was new, everything was tired and worn. How could her uncle possibly pay off Sweet Briar's debts, much less ransom her? Virginia was devastated. There did not seem to be any possible way now to save her home.

Footsteps sounded on the broad staircase to their right. Virginia turned and saw a tall, heavyset man with a gray complexion descending the stairs, William following. His gaze was on Devlin, and Devlin had turned and stared back. For one moment, she felt a seething tension in the room, a hostility that sizzled between them. And then her uncle smiled, his expression benign. "Captain O'Neill," he said, coming forward. "How good of you to call."

"My lord," Devlin said calmly, bowing slightly.

He turned to Virginia, who hastily curtsied. "And this is...my niece?"

Virginia leapt forward. "My lord! Yes, it is I, Virginia Hughes, your brother's daughter and only child!"

His gaze was piercing. Instantly Virginia stiffened, instinctively alarmed. But he continued to smile. "I was told that there were no survivors," he said softly.

She inhaled but could not dwell on her odd reaction to this man, her uncle. "Captain O'Neill saved my life, my lord, not once, but twice. He...he took me aboard his own s.h.i.+p when it became clear that a storm was at hand and that I would be safer upon it." She would never tell anyone that he had attacked the Americana. "Had he not done so, I would now be dead! And the storm was so violent I was almost blown overboard-but he rescued me then, too. I am incredibly indebted to him," Virginia said in a rush, aware of Devlin staring at her in surprise.

She refused to look at him, but now he knew she would never tell the world what he had really done.

Eastleigh looked her over. "And all this time, you have been the guest of my friend, the captain. How wonderful, truly."

She hesitated. "I am hardly a guest," she whispered, but Eastleigh did not seem to hear. She glanced at Devlin. His arms were folded across his chest and his eyes gleamed with a predatory light.

"Sir...my lord...uncle!" She could not help herself and she grasped his plump, damp hands. "Please tell me that Sweet Briar hasn't been sold! Please tell me my home is intact!"

Eastleigh removed his hands, glancing at his son. "Have we sold the plantation yet?"

"Unfortunately, no."

Virginia almost cried out, and she covered her racing heart with her hand.

All three men looked at her. Then Devlin said, "I wish a word with you in private...my lord."

Eastleigh continued to smile. "I am afraid we are late for a supper engagement. I suggest you call later in the week."

Devlin now smiled and it was chilling. "I insist upon a moment of your time."

Eastleigh seemed to be a statue until he spoke, so quickly that Virginia had to strain to hear. "I grow tired of your games," he said softly. "I grow very tired, indeed."

"Unless you wish for the entire world to know of the countess's indiscretions, I suggest you give me the moment I am asking for."

Virginia had no idea what Devlin spoke of, but William gasped, and she glanced at him and found him pale. Then she saw that Eastleigh was turning red, dangerously so, in an apoplexy of rage.

William came forward. "I will call the constable," he cried. "This man cannot come into our home, flaunting an impostor and making accusations against the countess."

"I have hardly made any accusations yet," Devlin said. "I merely threatened to do so."

"There will be no constable," Eastleigh choked. "State your business, O'Neill, and leave-before I have you thrown out."

And Devlin was clearly amused. "And just how would you do that?" He started to laugh.

Virginia saw the absurdity. As if this old man and his pampered son could defy a man like Devlin, a man who did not think twice of attacking and destroying innocent s.h.i.+ps. She hurried to him. "We should go."

But he didn't hear her-no one did. He said, "Virginia wishes to be reunited with her family-with you. Your reputation for generosity precedes you, my lord, and I wish to discuss the nature of the reward you will want to bestow upon me." He seemed to be laughing now.

Eastleigh just stood there, looking as if he wished to strangle Devlin but did not dare. He was crimson now.

"Reward?" William gasped. "Good G.o.d, the man thinks to ask a ransom! He wants a ransom!" he cried. Then, "Oh, ho, your head will roll for this! Even you cannot abduct a woman like my cousin and get away with ransoming her!" He had become gleeful.

Eastleigh and Devlin stared at each other, neither of them smiling, and if their eyes were daggers, they would both be dead.

"There will be no constable," Eastleigh said finally. "And you will not, William, mention this to anyone! Not even your brother, do you hear me?"

"But..." William sputtered.

"I do not seek a ransom," Devlin said far too softly. "I seek merely to have my expenses reimbursed, and we shall call it a reward. Fifteen thousand pounds should do." He turned. "Let us go, Virginia, our business here is done-for now."

He had taken her arm. She glanced back and saw Eastleigh in his impotent rage, and William, more stunned than anything else. Fifteen thousand pounds. It was a vast sum of money, a sum Eastleigh clearly did not have.

They were at the door when Eastleigh called out to them. "We are not paying it," he said. "You have lost this time, O'Neill, for you see, I do not want the girl and I am not paying any ransom at all. You may keep her." And he laughed.

VIRGINIA HUDDLED IN THE COACH. This time Devlin had the coachman tie his horse to the back of the carriage and he climbed in beside her. Closing the door, he settled back against the leather seat, knocking on the part.i.tion. The carriage took off, rumbling down the paved drive.

Virginia looked at him with wide eyes. His face was hard. So were his eyes. He seemed deeply thoughtful, but if he was dismayed about the interview-or Eastleigh's refusal to pay her ransom-she could not tell. She shuddered. What would happen now? She had little doubt that Eastleigh had meant his every word. He did not care if she lived or died, was captive or freed. She had never seen such cold eyes-except for Devlin's.

She s.h.i.+vered again. Somehow, Eastleigh's eyes were worse. Two things now were clear. Devlin's hatred knew no bounds-but Eastleigh hated him as ferociously. And both men were at an impa.s.se, were they not? As Devlin was demanding a ransom that Eastleigh refused to pay.

If only she could make Devlin change his course. Would anything stop him from exacting his revenge on his enemy? She did not think so and she despaired. "Devlin...this has to stop."

He looked at her. "This stops when I say so and not a moment before."

She stiffened, as his gaze was chilling. "And are you pleased with yourself? Do you get pleasure from what you have done, and what you are doing? My uncle is dest.i.tute! You have clearly ruined him. Why continue? Who would choose to live this way-to live a life of hatred and revenge!" she cried.

Something in his gaze flickered. His mouth tightened. "I heard you once say that if someone had murdered your father, you would kill him yourself."

She stared, for she had said that to Sean. "I'm not sure that I meant it."

"You meant it. You see, in this one instance, we are not that different, Virginia."

"We are very different! I have every reason to hate you and to exact my own vengeance. But I don't hate you-and I never will. And I will never tell the truth to anyone about what you have done. You see, I refuse to walk the path of revenge, Devlin, I simply refuse."

His face grew hard as he stared at her. "I owe this much to my father."

"Your father is dead! He has been dead for years!" She could not yet give up. "Devlin, they do not have the ransom, and even if they did, they would not think to pay it. Surely you, a fine judge of character, saw that."

He did not glance at her now, clearly having no intention of answering her.

Virginia turned away in despair. She had a bad feeling. She knew he was planning something, and whatever it was, she dreaded it. But there was nothing more that she could say. She was clearly not capable of persuading him to give up his course, to change his life-Sean was so wrong! Perhaps he was a madman-for was not obsession a clinical term for a psychiatric disorder? And what would happen to him in the end? If only she did not care! Would Eastleigh's son call the constabulary? Wasn't Devlin afraid of being caged behind prison bars? She knew how he loved the wind and the sea and she thought that imprisonment might kill him.

But then, this man did not fear death, so maybe he did not fear incarceration, either. He certainly did not seem at all worried about his future. She was the one, dear G.o.d, worrying about his future, when she had her own future to worry about, a future that seemed very bleak.

They had left Eastleigh's tattered estate behind. Lush green hills were crisscrossed with old stone walls and wildflowers bloomed along the roadside. They drove through a quaint village filled with small whitewashed stone houses, the shops below and the apartments above, before pa.s.sing the local church, built in Norman times and never renewed. A few minutes later they turned off the main road, between a pair of rusting iron gates. Virginia saw a pleasant sweep of lawn and a modest stone cottage, two stories high and perhaps two rooms wide. A stone carriage house was behind it, as rundown and ramshackle. Virginia blinked, surprised at how small and shabby this country home was. This could not possibly be Devlin's home-it had to be the wrong address.

But Devlin helped her down, annoyance in his expression. He took a long, hard look at the house, giving Virginia the impression that he had never seen it before, and she knew they were in the right place after all. Then, his hand on her arm, he guided her up the stone walk. At least the roses blooming against the side of the house were pretty, Virginia thought.

The front door opened before they even reached it and a man and woman came out. "Sir Captain O'Neill?" the tall, dark-haired woman asked. She was middle-aged, quite lean, and her features were hawkish. She wore the severe black dress of a servant.

He nodded. "Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper, I presume?"

She smiled tightly at him. "Yes. We have been expecting you. I hope the house and grounds meet with your satisfaction, Sir Captain."

"I will let you know," he responded noncommittally.

"Sir? I am your butler, Tompkins," the smaller, dapper man by the housekeeper's side said. He wore a dark wool coat and trousers. "We are so pleased that you have finally come home, Sir Captain."

Devlin grunted. "Take all the bags and install them in my suite," he said.

Virginia was startled-what about her bags?

"And may I introduce Miss Hughes?"

Mrs. Hill smiled at her, as did the butler. The housekeeper seemed tense, her smile rather thin, but the butler seemed quite the opposite, rather jovial, in fact.

"Miss Hughes is to lack nothing," Devlin announced. "She is my very special guest, and anything that she wishes is to be met."

Virginia stared at him, a very bad feeling coming over her now. What was he up to?

"And where shall we take her bags, sir?" Tompkins asked.

Devlin's dark brows lifted in surprise. "Why, to my rooms, of course," he said.

A moment of surprised silence fell.

Virginia opened her mouth to protest, but he suddenly had her by the hand and he was lifting it to his mouth. Virginia wondered if she was dreaming. He smiled and kissed her hand, his lips firm and warm on her skin.

Her body responded instantly, shockingly, and she could only think, what was he doing? And dear G.o.d, why?