The Prize (30 page)

Sean was pale.
"Christ"

Adare held up his
hand. "He is on probation and he was sent to escort a convoy to
Spain
. My son has nine lives—and he's used up
ten."

Virginia
was perspiring heavily. There
was an explanation now for Devlin's prolonged absence. She would not defend his
behavior—for look at how cleverly he had lied to his own admirals!—but
somewhere, in a tiny corner of her heart, she was relieved to know that even if
he had wanted to return to Askeaton, he could not. She bit her lip hard, then
gave up. "Is he returning here at any time soon?" she asked nervously.

"I wouldn't
know," the earl said, his tone kind.

Mary beamed at her.
"Why, I should hope so! Or does he expect his brother to keep you company
while he sails the world?"

Virginia
became very uneasy.

"Congratulations,
my dear," Mary said, grasping both of her hands. "I am so happy for
you both."

"Wh-what?"

Sean echoed her
exactly.

Adare smiled.
"We are both happy—and relieved, I might add, as this is the last bit of
news either of us ever expected."

Virginia
had a bad feeling, oh yes. She
glanced at Sean, seeking help.

                             
245

He coughed.

"How on earth
did you two meet?" Mary asked, putting her arm around her.

Virginia
could not think of an
intelligent answer. And she was referring to Devlin—wasn't she?

Adare clapped his
hand on Sean's shoulder. "Being as Devlin was not kind enough to inform us
of the upcoming nuptials, I will ask you. When is the wedding? Has anything
been planned? You know your mother would love to help plan the event."

"The
wedding," Sean said cautiously, his cheeks red.

"Yes, Devlin's
wedding. The first thing we heard when we got home was the news that Devlin is
engaged. The moment we stepped off our ship at
Limerick
, the mayor was congratulating us—as was
every squire and merchant." Adare now stared closely at Sean. "What
is amiss, Sean? You seem upset."

Sean and Virginia
looked at each other helplessly.

Mary now ceased
smiling. "Is something wrong?" She turned to her son.
"Sean?"

Virginia
spoke, as he seemed incapable of
it. Her mouth somehow formed the painful words. "I am sorry. I am not
Devlin's fiancée. There has been a terrible misunderstanding."

"I don't
understand." Mary was pale.

"Well, this
would certainly explain why Devlin did not say a word to us when we saw him in
London
." Adare was grim and displeased.
"I am afraid to ask, then, what this is about. You are Devlin's guest?
" His gaze narrowed. "We have not been properly introduced."

Virginia
did not want to upset Mary de
Warenne, but there was no choice. "I am not a guest here," she said.

"I don't
understand," Mary whispered.

"You are not a
guest," Adare said slowly. He turned to Sean. "Is she your
wife?"

He flushed crimson.
"No. Father, perhaps you should sit down."

"I have a very
bad feeling. Out with it!" Adare said, and it was a command.

Sean murmured, "
Virginia
is the Earl of Eastleigh's
niece."

A terrible silence
fell.

Virginia
stared out the French doors,
which were open, due to the weather, and watched the earl embracing his wife.
Mary was crying. She felt Sean come to stand behind her and a moment later she
felt his hand cover her shoulder. She turned to face him.

"Now we know why
Devlin has not ransomed you," Sean said softly. "He was too busy
defending himself against a court-martial."

"
Eastleigh
probably thinks I'm dead. He
probably thinks I lie on the bottom of the sea with the
Americana
,"
Virginia
said uneasily.

"Probably,"
Sean agreed.

"Why is your
mother so dismayed?" she asked. "No one told her about the
ransom."

Sean hesitated.
"Some of it has to do with how much Mother yearns for Devlin to find
happiness."

Virginia
stiffened. "He's not
interested in happiness."

"You are right,
I think," Sean said. "But she is his mother, and every mother wants
her child to be happy."

"They both seemed
shocked when they learned I am
Eastleigh
's niece."
Virginia
said.

Sean shrugged.

"I have asked
you a dozen times. Why? Why is Devlin doing this? He doesn't need the money.
And you refuse to answer. So now I ask, why is Lady de Warenne so upset? Why did
the name
Eastleigh
almost cause her to faint? Is
this about
Eastleigh
?"
she cried.

"Yes."

Virginia
started. "I don't
understand."

"
Eastleigh
was not always an earl. Harold
Hughes was actually the middle son of the late earl. He was a captain in the
army, a common-enough calling for the second son." Sean was terse.

She still had not a
clue as to what this meant. "What does any of this have to do with me—and
with your brother?"

Sean grimaced.
"He served in
Ireland
,
Virginia
. He was the man who murdered our father
when we were boys."

Virginia
cried out, reeling. Sean
steadied her. She clung to his arms. "This is about your father's
death?"

"This is about
my brother's obsession with it, yes."

And it struck her
then. "My God, this is not about ransom, this is about revenge!"

He nodded.

And the enormity of
it, the absolute irony, became instantly clear. She laughed. She laughed
wildly, for Devlin was a fool, oh yes!

"
Virginia
, you are becoming
hysterical," Sean said cautiously, trying to lead her to the sofa.

"I think
not!" she cried, allowing herself to be led. "Your brother is a fool,
because
Eastleigh
doesn't give a damn about me and
he could not care less that I am someone's hostage!"

Sean pushed her to
sit, then walked away.

Virginia
continued to chuckle, for now
she was the one with the last laugh. Devlin's absurd scheme had certainly
backfired. Sean returned, looking very worried, handing her a snifter.
Virginia
shoved it away. "Don't you
see? There is no revenge. If Devlin wants to hurt
Eastleigh
, he can not do so with me."

Sean sat down beside
her, taking both of her small hands in his own large, strong ones.

Virginia
thought of Devlin's hands—both
men were so alike physically—and she tensed. Slowly she met his gaze.

"No. Devlin has
been methodically destroying
Eastleigh
for years. The man has been
reduced to a single estate with very little income. He can't afford this
ransom, and when he pays it, he will have to sell off all that he has left. He
will be finished, Virginia, and my brother will have won."

She stared, stunned,
dismayed, and then, aware of him holding her hands, she pulled them away.
"And he will have to pay?"

"It will become
a matter of honor."

"What kind of
man destroys an innocent woman in order to avenge his father?" she asked
numbly.

"My
brother," Sean said. He took her hand again, but only one, clasping it
firmly. "He hasn't destroyed you. You're not with child." He kept his
voice low. "He won't touch you that way again, I promise. Very soon, this
will be over. One day, it will be a vague memory."

Virginia
stared, but she did not see
Sean, she saw Devlin instead, and now she began to understand how his eyes
could be so cold, how he could lack any kindness, any mercy. He was no ordinary
man. He was obsessed with revenge, and apparently, no means was too obnoxious
to gain his end. "And what of his career? Surely he will be
court-martialed for abducting me."

Sean hesitated.
"
Eastleigh
has already been made a fool by
Devlin, many times. He is too proud to go to the authorities, Virginia."

Virginia
became still. It struck her then
that she had the power to be the means of Devlin O'Neill's downfall. And Sean
stared back—clearly, he knew it also.

Suddenly Mary and the
earl had stepped into the room, Mary no longer crying. Both were terribly grave.
As they looked at her, she slid her hand from Sean's and slowly stood.

Mary managed a smile.
"Please, child, come outside and sit with me. It's such a pleasant
evening."

Virginia
wished she could be saved, as
she had little doubt that Mary wished to speak far too intimately with her. She
glanced at Sean pleadingly but he shrugged. Having no choice, she walked out to
the terrace with Mary. The other woman paused beside the balustrade and faced
her.

Virginia
gazed up at the stars instead of
at the other woman. But it was impossible not to be aware of her kindness and
compassion; it flowed from her the way it might from an unearthly angel, in
holy, tangible waves.

"Child,"
she said softly, tilting
Virginia
's face. "How can I
apologize for what my son has done?"

Virginia
had to meet her gaze. The
woman's sympathy threatened her composure. "It's not your fault."

For one moment, Mary
could not speak. "I love both of ray sons with all of my heart. I want
them to have lives of peace and joy. It is very hard, here in
Ireland
, to attain such a life. Sean, I think, has
come close. But Devlin? He went to sea when he was a boy. I have rarely seen
him since. He has chosen a life without joy, a life on the high seas, a life of
war and destruction and death. He lives with his pain, closed off to the world,
to people, as if he were his own island, as if he did not need any human
companionship, any love, any joy." Mary closed her eyes and tears slipped
down her cheeks. "I have prayed so much for him."

Virginia
had the odd urge to cry, too.
"Maybe he doesn't need companionship or love." She was terse.

"He may be
cold," Mary said, meeting her gaze, "but he is a man. A heart beats
in his chest, filled with red, human blood. Of course he needs companionship
and love. We all do."

Virginia
wasn't sure that Mary de Warenne
was right

"I wake up in
the middle of the night, worrying about him.

250                           

1
have cried myself back to sleep a
hundred times. My husband reminds me that he is a grown man and that in many
ways, we should be proud of him. He grew up with nothing. We were very poor,
once. Now he owns this fine manor, land that has belonged to O'Neills and
FitzGeralds for generations, and he has many fine ships, his own fleet,
really, not to mention a wonderful home in
Greenwich
. He was recently knighted, you know."
She smiled through more tears. "It is Sir Devlin now."

"He is a very
powerful man,"
Virginia
said hoarsely.

"Yes, he
is." Mary seized her hands. "But he isn't cruel. Is he?" she
begged.

Virginia
stared, for a long moment
incapable of a response. Finally she whispered, "Not in the way that you
mean."

"Oh, dear Jesus,
what has he done?" Mary cried.

"I'm fine,"
Virginia
lied, agonized.

Mary studied her
closely, searchingly, as agonized and desperate as only a mother can be.
"I raised my sons to respect women," she said hoarsely.
"Has
he respected you?"

Virginia
did not know how to answer. Had
Mary asked her this question even the day before Devlin's departure, she would
have said yes without hesitation. But now the hurt came rushing back, a roaring
in her ears, deafening her, a haze in front of her eyes, briefly blinding her.
He
had left without even the most careless goodbye.
It still hurt, dear God,
and if that wasn't cruel, what was?

Mary knew. She
covered her bosom with her hand, shaking, and she turned away. "If I
didn't love him so, I would disown him—my own flesh and blood." She turned
back. "Are you with child?"

There was no more
denying anything.
Virginia
shook her head.