The Prize (33 page)

Read The Prize Online

Authors: Brenda Joyce

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Romance

BOOK: The Prize
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"And you may
pretend indifference toward her but I can smell the lust," Sean retorted
with anger.

"You are so
wrong," Devlin said softly, but they both knew it was a huge lie.
"And I do not want to argue with you. You're my brother. We are on the
same side."

"We are not on
the same side anymore, not when you have done this. Free her, Devlin, let this
ransom go. Free her and leave Askeaton."

"I can't. I'm
taking her to Wideacre tomorrow."

Sean's face
tightened. "If you hurt her again, I will kill you."

Devlin stared, trying
to decide if Sean meant it, if he

could love
Virginia
so much that he would put her
ahead of his family.

Sean flushed.

A terrible silence
descended.

"I do hope you
did not mean that," Devlin finally said. "After the ransom, she can
return here—to you."

"I meant it. I
suggest you stick your cock elsewhere."

Devlin smiled, but it
felt like a grimace. He wandered the room now, very disturbed. This was what he
wanted, he tried to remind himself, a match between Sean and Virginia, but now,
his reminder was hollow and so obviously a pretense. He
hated
the idea
of them together, no matter how he fought that hate. But then, hatred was what
he knew—and did—best.

Finally he sighed and
sat down. If
Virginia
decided to return to Askeaton
to be with Sean after her ransom, he would give them his blessing, pretense or
not. "You know, I have spent the past three months patrolling the coast of
Spain
by day and preying upon the few
remaining French privateers by night. We seized four ships in that span of
time, four ships and eight hundred in crew."

"Are you making a
point?"

Devlin glanced at
him. "Yes, I am. In all that time, I never spared a single thought for
Virginia
. Out of sight, out of
mind." He did not tell Sean how much discipline that had taken.

"How proud of
yourself you must be."

Devlin met his
brother's stony gaze. "I am sorry I did what I did. My regret is
vast."

"Then maybe you
should tell her that!"

Devlin started.
"And what would that accomplish?"

Sean snorted in
disgust. "What would it accomplish? You broke her heart. Perhaps you can
help to mend it!"

"Sean, I beg to
differ. I could not possibly break her heart. She is my prisoner—not my
lover."

"Now I beg to
differ. She is in love with you," Sean said.

Devlin stared, so
stunned he could not think coherently, not for a long moment.

"You are such a
fool," Sean said, quietly now.

"No,"
Devlin said, shaken. "You are wrong.
Virginia
is curious, independent and passionate.
That is all. If she thinks she loves me, she is wrong—it is lust, nothing more,
and any fondness on her part comes from the fact that I was her first."

"You know,"
Sean said slowly, "it is possible that a woman might want more from you
than your body."

"Yes, a woman
might want the wealth, power, position and security I could give her." He
was annoyed now. He leapt to his feet, flinging the bloody rag away. "I
never expected this, and not from you!"

"Then what did
you expect? To do the deed and simply walk away? To have her now choose me? Or
hand her off to me, with no regard for her feelings? She is not
Elizabeth
! She is nothing like
Elizabeth
!
Virginia
could not pretend to be anything that she
was not, not even for a moment.
Virginia
wears her affections openly—she wears her heart upon her sleeve!
What did
you expect?"

"Unfortunately,
I wasn't thinking at all, much less expecting anything," Devlin said,
abruptly sitting down. His heart dared to race and mock his cool demeanor now.
His body trembled. Did he dare to confess the real truth, not to his brother,
but to himself? "I lost all control," he said slowly. "I swore I
would not do it. I swore I would not touch her that way. That night I lost all
control. /
have never lost control before.
Damn it, I ruined an innocent
young woman!" And he felt the anguish then as it was simply impossible to
ignore. Briefly he covered his face with his hands.

He had abused an
innocent young woman—he had ruined Virginia Hughes. Gerald must be rolling in
his grave, and dear God, his mother's heart would break if she ever learned the
truth.

270                           

"Then you are
human after all. Tell her what you told me—that you are sorry, that you have
regret, and that you found her so beautiful you could not stop yourself."

He cursed. "I am
not a poet, Sean."

"Then say
something kind in your own words!"

"I already
have." His intention would not waver now. He was not going near
Virginia
again and certainly not to bring
up the ugly subject of the past.

'Tell her
again."

"Absolutely
not."

Sean sighed, as if
admitting defeat. Then, slowly, he said, "Perhaps you should think about
what such lack of self-control signifies?"

Devlin stood.
"It means she provokes me in an unnatural way."

"How convenient
your theory is," Sean murmured.

But Devlin was pacing
now, back and forth, as if on his deck, and he really did not hear. "I
have spent these past months exorcising every thought of her from any and all
existence," he said, almost to himself. "If I can defeat any French
commander, I can defeat myself."

Sean smiled a little.
"Maybe it is a slip of a woman whom you cannot defeat."

"Like
hell." And he was, finally, furious.

Virginia
debated not going down to supper
but decided that would make her appear childish and as if she were sulking.
And she was not sulking—she was hurt and angry and determined not to allow him
to know just how hurt she was. She looked through her four gowns, already
knowing there was no choice, and she took out the rose silk with the low-cut
bodice and black lace trim. In this dress, she looked her best, in this dress,
she knew she was beautiful, and she hoped he would look at her and regret
everything.
Then she

held the dress
tightly, turning to face the mirror. What was she doing?

If only he hadn't
come back!

Things had been fine
recently, for she had been content and almost happy, having managed to forget
and bury the past. Now she was ill, her stomach so tight and knotted she could
barely breathe, and once again, he consumed her every thought and moment,
against her very will. At least, she thought rigidly, her reflection unearthly
and pale in the mirror, he had admitted that he had deserved her slap. At
least he was moral enough to know that what he had done was wrong. But she
would never accept his apology, sincere or not.

She should not be
wearing her only seductive gown.

But she wasn't trying
to seduce him—
Virginia
had no intention of ever going
there again. He might remain the most interesting and disturbing man she had
ever met, not to mention the most magnetic, but she would never make the mistake
that she had.
Sex is not love.
She had been a fool once, but never
again. How those words hurt.

She had wanted an
admission that he had been stunned by their passion, too, that he had cared,
that he still did. But none of those sentiments would be forthcoming, not ever,
and she remained a fool, to think he might admire her at all in her dress, when
it was clear that he didn't find her attractive anymore.

Virginia
rang the bell pull, wanting a
bath. An icy fear seemed to grip her now. And she dared face her darkest
thoughts: he hadn't admitted anything that she had secretly hoped for because
he was a man of the world, and she was only one more woman out of the hundreds
he had already used.

Virginia
knew she was growing up because
she did not shed a single tear.

* * *

If Devlin was
surprised to see her, he gave no sign. He nodded politely, sitting on the
emerald-brocade sofa, legs crossed in soft beige britches that delineated his
every muscle, not having bothered to change his Hessians for stockings and
shoes. He wore a navy-blue velvet coat, a sapphire blue and silver-brocade
waistcoat beneath, his ivory shut exquisitely ruffled at the cuffs and throat,
the jabot carelessly tied.

He did not even
glance at her; instead, he sipped his red wine as if deep in thought.

But
Virginia
stared. He had been in a fight.
His left eye was swollen and bruised, as was the same side of his jaw. What in
God's name had happened?

She was diverted when
Sean leapt to his feet and rushed to the threshold to escort her inside. He
smiled but glanced searchingly at her.

"I'm fine,"
she said to his unspoken question. She stole one more glance at Devlin, then
told herself, quite firmly, that she did not care if he had been fighting the
devil himself.

Sean smiled again and
squeezed her hand. "He's taking you to his country home tomorrow. It's
close to
Eastleigh
. He plans for you to meet him.
Are you all right with this,
Virginia
? Will you be able to
manage?"

She nodded, glancing
over at her captor, who now, finally, eyed them. No expression could be seen on
his implacable face. It crossed her mind that she could thwart him easily by
denying that she had ever heard of Virginia Hughes and claiming to be someone
else. And if she really wanted to hurt him, to thwart him, she could go to the
authorities once she was freed. Devlin would wind up in prison for years,
unless he had a plan for that contingency, too.

Neither alternative
gave her any pleasure. She only wanted to go home—if her home still existed.
Unlike Devlin, she had

a heart and it was
human and kind. She would never deliberately hurt him, and not out of revenge.

"You are lovely
tonight," Sean added. Then he added, "You are always lovely,
Virginia."

Something in his tone
caused her to start and she met his gaze. "If you are overly kind, I might
lose what is left of my composure," she said softly.

Sean smiled a little.
"Don't do that!" Then he said, "
Virginia
, would you step outside with me? We have to
speak."

"Now?" She
knew it was seven and they always dined precisely on the hour.

"Please."

Something was afoot.
She nodded, searching his expression for a clue as to the matter at hand and
they crossed the room. She had no idea what was on his mind. Devlin murmured,
"Do not mind me."

Virginia
decided to hell with it and she
glared at him.

He saluted her with
his glass and then picked up a
Dublin
newspaper.

Outside, the night
was pleasant, a few stars beginning to emerge in the inky blue vastness
overhead. To
Virginia
's surprise, Sean gripped both
her arms. "I am going to miss you," he said roughly.

Her eyes widened.
"I will miss you, too," she said.

His gaze searched
hers. "I don't want you to worry about Devlin. I have become your
protector, Virginia. You do not have to fear another episode like the last one.
I won't allow it and..." He hesitated.

She was becoming
moved beyond words. "And?"

"And he is
resolved to treat you with all of the respect that you deserve."

Oddly, the twinge of
dismay was at once rude, surprising and strong. "I doubt he said
that."

"He didn't have
to. He is very sorry,
Virginia
—"

"Don't! If that
man cares about what he did, how he did it and how he left, he can tell me
himself."

"He may never
have the courage," Sean said softly.

Virginia
started. As Devlin was the
bravest man she knew, what in God's name was Sean talking about?

Sean touched her
cheek. "
Virginia
, I must ask you something."

She was suddenly
wary, though Sean had become her best friend.

"Do you still
love him?" Sean asked.

Virginia
gasped. She was so flustered and
so stunned she could not respond for a moment. "Sean!" She gripped
his hand, causing it to drop from her face. "I do
not
love that
man," she said fiercely. "Maybe, once, for a brief moment, I was
deluded into thinking that I did. I do not even know him! He has treated me
abominably. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, there!" she cried.

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