The Prize (64 page)

She was silent. And
she was ill.

He reached for her
hand.

She allowed him to
take it. "All right. I won't let it come between us," she said,
desperately hoping that it was possible to do as he asked.

The mask slipped away
and she saw that he was relieved.

Virginia
had to take a seat. She was
moved beyond words, moved almost to tears. The salon was filled with warmth and

laughter, and as she
sat, she inhaled deeply, looking around the room, smiling.

It was the evening of
her birthday, perhaps
five
o'clock
. A fire
blazed in the hearth beneath the handsome carved mantel there, where Edward
stood with Tyrell, Cliff, Devlin and Sean. The men sipped champagne and chatted
quietly, occasionally laughing at one or another remark. Devlin had never been
more splendid or handsome, clad in his civilian clothes. He sensed her gaze and
half turned, smiling at her.
Virginia
smiled back, suddenly filled
with desire.

She was trying to do
as Devlin had asked. It was an extreme effort, but she refused to think about
the war. Every time she did, she turned her thoughts to another matter, determined
to cherish the time they had left together. The fact that he had been given
such terrible orders could not change how she felt about him; she simply loved
him too much. And he was right. She must not let the war come between them—
especially because she had had her pregnancy confirmed that morning.

She had secretly gone
to see a doctor, with only Mary aware of the appointment. Her baby was due the
following October.

She smiled and
touched her abdomen. She would tell Devlin the news before he left. Her heart
skipped and she glanced at him. She prayed he would be pleased.

She also prayed she
would not be a widow when she gave birth to their child the following fall, and
she worried about the war yet again. If only he did not have to go!

"I wonder if
anyone will love me enough one day to match a necklace to my eyes,"
Eleanor said.

Virginia
glanced at Eleanor, who sat with
Mary on the moss-green sofa near her chair, a half a dozen opened boxes at
their feet. Eleanor and Mary were admiring the necklace that Devlin had given
her, which she was wearing.

"Your time will
come," Mary murmured. "This necklace suits
Virginia
perfectly. It truly accentuates the unusual
color of her eyes." Mary shared an intimate glance with
Virginia
and
Virginia
knew she was thinking about the baby.

"I sense a
secret," Devlin murmured, his tone soft and seductive.

And that was when the
Earl of Eastleigh walked into the room.

Virginia
remained in shock. She was
barely able to comprehend his presence as he bowed; nor could she hear the butler,
pale and distressed, as he tried to apologize for the intrusion. What could he
want? What was her uncle doing there? And then Devlin started forward.

Virginia
's heart lurched with fear as it
struck her that Devlin might think to kill
Eastleigh
for this incident. But both Tyrell and
Cliff gripped his shoulders, restraining him. A frightening mask had slipped
over his face.

Edward quickly
blocked his entrance. "
Eastleigh
, you are not welcome here."

"Adare,"
Eastleigh
said, his pale blue eyes ice
cold. "But surely the lack of an invitation to my niece's birthday was an
unfortunate oversight—as was the lack of an invitation to her wedding. I have
only come to wish
Virginia
a most fortuitous birthday. I
have even brought her a gift." He turned and gestured at his servant who
held a large wrapped parcel.

Devlin shook off his
brothers and strode forward, his eyes cold. "Well, well," he said,
"the man I had hoped to see. And how is it that you do not seem surprised
to see
me,
my lord?"

The two men locked
stares.
Eastleigh
's teeth bared in a parody of a
smile. "Why would I be surprised to see you present at your wife's
birthday? I had heard you returned, O'Neill. Oh, congratulations on your most
advantageous

marriage."
Suddenly he looked at
Virginia
and inclined his head.
"Congratulations, my dear."

A chill went up her
spine.
Virginia
watched the two men, both
reeking of enmity and hatred, and she despaired. If she did not miss her guess
something terrible was about to happen. Could she somehow diffuse the
situation? She stepped swiftly forward. "Thank you, Uncle. How kind of you
to call."

Devlin gripped her
arm, silencing her before she could go on. "Save your false words for a
foolish man," he said coldly. "My stepfather is correct. You are not
welcome here. But before I escort you out, I do have one question. Do you not
want to know what fate befell your assassin?"

Virginia
gasped. Assassin? What was
Devlin speaking of? In confusion and dismay, she stared at him. But he did not
seem to be aware of her presence now.

"Assassin?"
Eastleigh
laughed. "I know of no
assassin. Did someone try to murder you, O'Neill?" He laughed again. "Why
think it was me? You have more enemies than can be counted, and we both know
it."

Devlin leaned closer,
smiling, and it was chilling. "Your assassin failed. But I suggest you
watch your back,
Eastleigh
, as two can play this new
game."

Virginia
cried out. No one seemed to
hear.

"Is that a
threat? Have you decided to murder me now? Is my destitution not enough?"
He smiled. "Perhaps
your
back needs watching, O'Neill, not
mine." He turned and bowed at
Virginia
.
"I do hope you enjoy your birthday gift." He left.

Virginia
simply stared after him as
Devlin turned, his expression so hard and ruthless it was frightening. She was
vaguely aware of Edward rushing to comfort Mary, as she was close to tears.
When
Eastleigh
was out of sight, his footsteps
no longer falling, she turned. The room was now filled with an icy tension.

"I'll get rid of
that," Tyrell said, lifting the wrapped parcel.

"No!"
Devlin strode over and tore the brown waxed paper apart. A painting was
beneath.

Virginia
could hardly breathe. She was
also beginning to feel faint. "What is it?"

Devlin made a rough
sound. "Get rid of it. Burn it," he said.

"Stop!"
Virginia
ran forward and shoved past him.
Then she cried out.

The painting was a
beautiful portrait of her parents, painted eighteen years ago, her mother
lovely and breathtaking, her father proud and handsome. An infant was in their
arms—a babe that could only be
Virginia
. But they were standing in front
of a house that
Virginia
recognized with stunning dismay.
It was Eastleigh Hall. And the Earl of Eastleigh stood with them, younger, more
vital, less overweight and as proud and overbearing as ever. The meaning of his
gift was unmistakable.

She was a Hughes and
the earl's niece and nothing could ever change that fact—not even her marriage
to Devlin.

"I'll get rid of
it," Tyrell repeated grimly, glancing at
Virginia
. She nodded numbly and he took the canvas
and left.

"Mary is going
to lie down," Edward said, pausing with her at the door. "Eleanor,
come."

Mary smiled
apologetically, her eyes moist with tears. "I'm sorry. This evening has
not been what I planned..."

Virginia
gripped her hands. "It's
all right," she whispered. "It was wonderful, really."

As they left Cliff
went over to Devlin. "Don't let him provoke you," he said.

Devlin didn't respond,
staring furiously out the window at the dusky night.

Cliff turned to
Virginia
. "Are you all right?"

She nodded her head
in the affirmative, but it was a lie. "Perhaps you should leave us,"
she managed.

520                           

He hesitated, glancing
back at his brother, but then he nodded and went out.

She and Devlin were
alone. He remained at the window now, and it was as if he was unaware that she
remained in the room. She looked at his rigid shoulders and back. She could
feel his hatred. Worse, she knew he was planning some terrible deed now.

She was ill.

Trembling, she walked
up to him. "He tried to assassinate you?" she asked.

He finally glanced at
her. "I'm sorry you had to learn of it. It doesn't matter. He
failed."

"Of course it
matters!" she cried.

"
Virginia
, I survived the foolish
attempt."

"This
time!" She knew she was hysterical, but she was so afraid now for Devlin
that she could not think straight. And she was even more afraid for their
child. "But what about next time?"

"He is not my
first enemy to wish me dead—or attempt to do it, either," Devlin said
grimly, reaching for her hand.

She jerked it free
and backed away, hugging herself. "This has gone too far! You started this
and look at what has happened—you are now in jeopardy!"

Anger blazed. "I
did not start this, my dear, he started this fifteen years ago!"

"And that makes
it right?"

He was flushed.
"I am not in any real jeopardy,
Virginia
,"
he warned. "I have been living by my wits for a long time now. No hired
thug shall bring me down."

Virginia
wanted to weep. So this was how
they would live? With Devlin hounding
Eastleigh
,
and
Eastleigh
hiring assassins to kill him in
return? And what would happen when the baby was born? Would she one day find an
assassin in her room, too? What if
Eastleigh
took his hatred of Devlin out on their child?

She inhaled but she
could not breathe. She could not live this way.

Devlin turned
abruptly back to the window, clearly angry with her.
Virginia
turned as abruptly and hurried out of the
salon, beginning to cry. She found herself next door in the library. It was
filled with Devlin's powerful and masculine presence, but she needed no
reminder to know how much she loved him.

If she told him about
the child, would he change his ways?

Surely he would be,
able to see that they could not bring their child into a world filled with
hatred and revenge.

She was so afraid.

Devlin stared out of
the window but saw nothing but blackness. He was shaking with rage and could
not stop, but there was a hollow feeling in his chest. He understood the
feeling— it was dread. Although he hadn't turned, he was well aware that
Virginia
was distressed and that she had
run from the room and him.

Did she finally see
him as the man he really was? A man filled with ice-cold blood and a heart of
hate?

The past few days had
seemed like a fairy tale or a dream. He had not recognized the man who laughed
and smiled so frequently and who thought of little other than his wife. He had
tasted happiness; he had even felt the glimmer of joy. The feelings had been
unfamiliar and strange, at once frightening yet oddly welcome, too. For the
first time in his life, he felt cherished, and more important, for the first
time in his life he knew he was not alone.

And now
Virginia
was upset and afraid. The most
courageous woman he had ever met wanted love and laughter, not war and hate.
He had seen the truth in her eyes a moment ago. She had just run from him, and
if he dared face his own

truth, he was
terrified that he would lose her now, when he had only just found her.

He knew he did not
deserve such a life. He knew it was a dream, and he would one day open his eyes
to find it all gone
—
the
joy, the peace,
Virginia
.

He reminded himself
that he was a soldier first and last, that he knew only a life of constant
battle, constant war. He had married her intending to change nothing, and in
the few days they had been together
everything
had changed—almost. She
had shown him a different kind of life, and a part of him desperately wanted to
seize it. But that other part of him felt stronger, more ruthless and more
dedicated to revenge than ever. That part of him knew he must finish
Eastleigh
once and for all and finally
allow his father peace.