The Prize (48 page)

Her heart dropped
through her entire body, the sensation sickly. "I have nothing to
wear!" She wasn't ready for this, not after the other day at Madame
Didier's, and not now, after

the solitude she had
been allowed there at his
Greenwich
home. She could think of nothing
worse than to be flaunted openly as his whore.

"Three of your
gowns came today, including the silver ball gown." His jaw flexed with an
effort she did not understand.

She tried to smile but
nothing happened, nothing at all.

"We'll leave at
seven tomorrow evening," he said.

"You are looking
well, Devlin, as always," the Earl of Liverpool said.

Devlin nodded and
walked into the prime minister's office,
Liverpool
informing his clerk that there were to be
no interruptions before closing the door behind him. "Tea? Brandy?"
he asked.

"No, thank
you."

"Have you
enjoyed your stay at your Hampshire estate?"
Liverpool
gestured at a seat.

Devlin sat, as did
the earl. "The interlude was a pleasant one," he lied. He hoped to
never set foot in Hampshire again—unless it was to receive his ransom money.

"I hear you have
taken a most fetching mistress, an American,"
Liverpool
said.

"I have,"
Devlin returned, hardly perturbed. "So the gossips are hard at their
work."

"I believe there
is a broken heart or two here in town,"
Liverpool
returned. "Shall we get down to
business?"

"Please
do."

'Tom Hughes has been
pushing for your transfer to the American theater, Devlin. With Napoleon
retreating from Russia, his troops decisively routed, the ones that are left
decimated and starving, I approve wholeheartedly of the idea— in spite of that
fiasco last spring."

"I have no
conflict with engaging in action against the Americans," Devlin said, the
first wave of excitement washing over him. A good war was just what he needed
to get his mind off of
Virginia
and the odd feelings and notions
she aroused. "We've suffered some grave losses at sea. Perhaps I can
change that."

"Yes, we have
suffered losses that worry me. However, my concern now is twofold. This
American woman—does she present a problem for you?"

"How so?"

"Her allegiance
to her country may be strong. Your allegiance to her may also be strong. I
hardly wish to send you over to battle her countrymen if you are unwilling in
any way to do so."

Devlin's mouth
curved. "My lord," he said, "my mistress is a rather unique
woman, and she is a patriot, but any regard which I hold for her shall not
interfere with my duty."

"I rather
expected that would be your answer. Now answer this. I cannot fathom why Hughes
is so eager to send you to the north
Atlantic
.
I know the two of you do not get along, but there must be more to this than an
ancient dispute over a French actress. Do you have a clue?"

"She was
Hungarian," Devlin said smoothly.
Liverpool
would know the truth about
Virginia
's identity after the Carew ball,
anyway, so he said, "Perhaps it is because my mistress is his
cousin."

"I beg your
pardon?"
Liverpool
gasped.

Devlin shrugged.
"I have taken up with a very engaging young woman, and I am afraid she is
Eastleigh
's niece."

Liverpool
stared, taken aback.
"Devlin, have you no honor? That is despicable."

"I am afraid I
have little honor, but I have answered your question."

Liverpool
remained shocked. He stood, as
did Devlin. "And
Eastleigh
allows this—trespass?"

"
Eastleigh
has no choice, really."
Devlin shrugged.

"This behavior
is simply not acceptable,"
Liverpool
said firmly. "And you may not care, but as an officer of His Majesty's
navy, you are expected to be both honorable and a gentleman.
Eastleigh
will insist you marry her—as
will I."

He stiffened, his
heart lurching oddly.
Will you marry her to salvage her reputation?
Tyrell
had demanded. But her freedom would surely be enough. If he had to, he would
make certain she returned to
Virginia
, where her reputation would not
be blemished. "When will my new orders be given?" he asked tersely,
his thoughts shifting to Sweet Briar. Had it been sold? If so,
Virginia
would have no place to go.

"In a week or
two."

"She will be
free when my tour commences," he said. "But marriage is out of the
question."

Liverpool
looked at him, clearly stunned
and appalled.

"Is there
anything else?" He suddenly hated himself. An honorable man would marry
Virginia
to make amends, but then, an honorable
man would have never used her as he had in the first place.

"I have never
understood you,"
Liverpool
said heavily. "But you are
a great officer, you have done your country one great service after another,
and I have nothing but admiration and respect for your stepfather, Adare. Now I
am at a complete loss. A senior officer of His Majesty's navy, willfully
destroying a woman of family and breeding—it is not to be had."

"I suggest you
think to court-martial me when my tour is over. Just now you need me, James,
once again." Devlin bowed and walked out.

Virginia
stared at her reflection in an
oval mirror. She was astonished that the seductive and beautiful creature she
gazed upon was herself. It simply did not seem possible.

"Oh, Miss
Hughes," the maid, Hannah, breathed. "Captain will never be able to
look at another woman again after he sees you!"

And staring at the
slender woman in the low-cut tissue gown with its silver-velvet cap sleeves and
sash,
Virginia
almost believed her. She turned
to glance at her profile. Her breasts seemed voluptuous in the dress and she
was acutely aware of her new undergarments, all sinfully black, sinfully
sensuous, trimmed in ribbon and lace. She should feel like a whore, considering
the underwear she wore, but she did not—she was too frightened of the evening
to come, and all she could feel was a dreadful anxiety and a genuine faintness.

"You are so
elegant, Miss Hughes. How proud the captain will be," Hannah murmured.

At least she did not
look like a whore—or like a mistress. She looked very regal and very rich.
Virginia
touched the beaded silver lace
that ornamented her tightly coiled hair and looked far better than any turban
or headdress. All that was missing was a necklace and earbobs. She did not dare
complain.

But how would she
face an evening filled with the ton's most elegant, most aristocratic ladies
and gentlemen? How?

"
Virginia
, we are late," Devlin said.

She glanced into the
mirror and saw him pause in the open doorway. His eyes widened as he saw her,
moved over the reflection of her face and dropped to her bosom. "Turn
around," he said softly.

As ill with dread
that she was, she understood the silver gleam in his eyes was one of
appreciation. She obeyed, wanting to make light of the moment—and all the
moments that would surely come during that evening. She curtsied. "I hope
you approve of Madame Didier's work," she said with a forced smile.

"I approve. I
more than approve,
Virginia
, and you will be the most
beautiful woman at Carew's tonight."

                              395

She made a derisive
sound.

His mouth quirked.
"You may leave," he said to the maid. She nodded, eyes downcast, and
fled. "Come here," he said softly.

It did not cross her
frozen mind to disobey or even question why. She walked over to him. He smiled
a little and reached up, and for one instant she thought he was going to take
her face in his strong hands. Instead, he clipped an earring to each earlobe,
turned her around, and placed a necklace about her neck.
Virginia
looked down, trying to see, and
gasped at the sight of so many diamonds dangling about her throat. "What
is this?"

"Do you like
it?" he asked, his hands moving to her shoulders.

Virginia
found herself facing the mirror,
with Devlin standing behind her, his hands clasping her shoulders. Hundreds of
diamonds, all cut like stars, dangled from the necklace in random sizes. One
large pendant dangled from the center. The earbobs matched.

Virginia
swallowed. "Yes," she
managed, wondering when he had gotten the necklace and why. Surely it was only
for her to use—surely it was not for her to keep. She could never ask.

"Shall we?"
he asked, releasing her and lifting her gray satin wrap and settling it about
her shoulders.

She nodded, inhaling
harshly and beginning to tremble. If only, she managed to think, they were
going somewhere else, as something other than man and mistress.

"We will not
stay too long," he murmured as he guided her from the room, as if guessing
her thoughts.

One minute was too
long. She wisely refrained from saying so.

He gave her an odd
look. "I promise this will soon be over,
Virginia
," he said.

* * *

The Carew mansion
resembled a palace. Situated on the outskirts of
Greenwich
, surrounded by hundreds of acres of both
park and wood, the house could easily accommodate all three of Devlin's homes.
As Devlin's carriage entered the square drive, passing a maze and a sculpture
garden,
Virginia
saw that the line ahead
consisted of the most elegant and grand coaches she had ever beheld and the
dread congealed. As they waited their turn to alight, she asked, "How many
guests will be present?"

"Several
hundred, I think," Devlin replied.

He did not speak
again, sitting beside her, his long legs crossed, as dashing as ever in his
uniform.
Virginia
was immobilized—it was hard to
breathe. Devlin did not seem to notice. He appeared distracted, but what matter
could so preoccupy him she did not know. His tension seemed to match her
own—and it belied his bland facade.

A half an hour later
their carriage door was opened and a footman helped
Virginia
down, Devlin following. They started up the
wide stone staircase that led to the open front door, following a dozen other
parties.

"Captain
O'Neill, sir, how fine to see you again."

"Lord Arnold,
Lady Arnold." Devlin bowed to the smiling couple. "May I present my
dear friend, Miss Virginia Hughes?"

Virginia
felt her cheeks flame as two
pairs of interested eyes came her way. Lord Arnold was a portly man with a kind
face, his wife of average looks and figure, her eyes bright and indicating a
superior intelligence.
Arnold
bowed; his wife nodded. "A
fine night for a ball, is it not, Miss Hughes?" He smiled.

He had no clue yet as
to her terrible status.
Virginia
nodded. "Very fine,"
she managed. She glanced at his wife, but Lady Arnold simply regarded her
keenly, not saying anything, a polite smile on her lips.

They followed the
Arnolds
inside, Devlin and
Arnold
briefly discussing a motion recently passed
in the Commons.
Virginia
gaped at the ceiling above—it
was several stories high—and just beyond the huge front hall, she could see
into an even larger, grander ballroom. There, a good two hundred guests were
mingling already, and the room was alive with the jewel tones of the ladies'
gowns and the thousands of crystals shimmering in the overhead chandeliers.

"So you are an
American?" Lady Arnold said as they paused on the receiving line.

Virginia
started and swallowed.
"Yes." Knowing she flushed, she added, "We do not have balls
like these at home."

"And where is
your home, my dear?"

"Virginia, my
lady."
Virginia
waited for the next terrible,
inevitable question.

"And how did you
come to be in
England
?"

Virginia
wet her lips. "My parents
died. My uncle is the Earl of Eastleigh and I came to spend some time with
him."