The Prize (37 page)

Making a sound of
disgust, William turned and rushed from the room.

Fury exploded then.
Eastleigh
jammed the dagger into his wall,
a wall that badly needed painting. And he stared at the quivering weapon.

"So you think to
stab me again, you bastard?" he said. "If my niece lives, I hardly
care, and I will not pay the ransom you so politely request."

He tore the dagger
free of the plaster. "My sons are fools. I am not. This war is not over
yet."

And he imagined
beheading Devlin O'Neill as he had his father, so many years ago. It would
please him to no end.

I
don't see why we could not have stopped at your estate

before calling on my
uncle,"
Virginia
said, her tone purposefully
low. It had taken two and a half days to reach
Southampton
and it was late in the evening. Since she
had dared to bait Devlin upon his quarterdeck two nights ago, she had not been
given the chance to do more than greet him before he would walk away. Unlike
her first voyage on the
Defiance
,
he had not dined in his cabin, slept there
or used it for any purpose whatsoever. Every time
Virginia
had gone out on deck, hoping to attempt
another civil conversation, he had been at the helm of the ship. Apparently he
had given orders that she was not allowed on the quarterdeck anymore, as her
way had been quickly barred.

He was, she thought,
either very afraid of her or absolutely disinterested in her company.

Now Devlin didn't
answer her. They stood hi 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.

/
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 passage 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 assailed 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, God,"
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 compassion 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 abaring of his teeth.
"Welcome to
Eastleigh
." He bowed.

Devlin inclined his
head. "Good afternoon, my lord," he said politely. "We have just
arrived in Hampshire 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 God, 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, wishing 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 ship."

"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
ship 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.

                             
305

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."