Authors: Brenda Joyce
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Romance
It wasn't right. If
anyone were to blame, it was he.
Virginia
glanced at the quarterdeck once
more, but O'Neill was not standing there, commanding the sun, the sky, the sea.
She raced back to his cabin.
As she barged inside,
she saw him seated alone at the dining table, slathering butter on a biscuit,
a plate containing more biscuits and cheese in front of him. He did not glance
up as she stared accusingly at him.
She fought for her breath
and her composure, then closed the door and approached.
He finally looked up
but did not stand. "Would you care to join me for some dinner?" he
asked.
She shook her head.
He ate, sipped from a
mug, then said, "You are getting sunburned, Miss Hughes."
She felt her temper
igniting. "It was my fault. The entire plan. If you wish to punish anyone,
it should be me, not Jack Harvey."
Devlin pushed back
his chair and rose to his full height, towering over her. His stance made her
feel small and vulnerable. She felt certain he knew that his height affected
her thusly, and that he did it deliberately. "I would love nothing more
than to punish you," he murmured. "Did you have something in
mind?"
Her heart skipped
wildly. He stood too close for comfort-— he was too tall, too strong, his
britches too tight, his shirt far too loosely drawn at the throat.
Virginia
couldn't speak.
"You will remain
confined in this cabin until we disembark," he said calmly. "Those
are my orders, Miss Hughes."
"Do not dismiss
Mr. Harvey! He is your friend!"
He had been about to
walk away; he turned back to her. "My friend? I think not," he said
too softly.
"No, you are
wrong, Mr. Harvey cares about you. He admires you greatly—he told me so. He
was—and is—your friend,"
Virginia
cried. "And you must not
treat him so callously because of what I have done!"
"I have no
friends—not on board this ship, or any other." He strode to the door.
"Then I feel
sorry for you!"
He whirled. "You
think to pity me!"
Virginia
realized she had hit a nerve—she
hadn't realized he had possessed one. "Is there anyone in this entire
world whom you would call a friend, Captain?" she dared, and it was a
challenge.
His eyes glittered,
turning dark, like a stormy sky. "Do you dare intrude into my private
life?" he asked very softly.
"I didn't know
you had one," she said as angrily.
He stalked back to
her. "Perhaps you will think twice about involving others in your schemes
and lies, Miss
135
Hughes. Perhaps next
time you will think about the ramifications of your actions."
"Perhaps I
will,"
Virginia
said, "but this isn't about
me, not anymore. I cannot let you dismiss a man who considers you the greatest
captain upon the high seas because of my stupidity, my perfidy. He is your
friend, Captain O'Neill, he is your loyal friend!"
"He was my
ship's surgeon and he betrayed me. That is neither friendship nor loyalty. He
is lucky I did not shackle him and throw him in the brig." He strode back
to the door, but there he paused. "Why? Why attempt an escape? You would
be lost in
Ireland
. Did you even think your scheme
through? I haven't hurt you. I haven't even touched you. In a short period of
time you will be reunited with your beloved uncle. Why dare to escape? Why dare
to defy me?"
Virginia
stared helplessly at him.
"Because," she managed, "my entire life is at stake."
He started.
She stared for a
moment longer, then turned and sat down at the table. She felt despondency
settle over her like a huge and weighty cloak, and she listened to him walk
back to the table, where he also sat. "Explain that statement."
She shook her head.
He gripped her face,
turning it upward so their gazes collided. "I mean it."
His hand was large,
engulfing her chin and jaw. She trembled. "What do you care?" she
said awkwardly.
He released her jaw.
"I don't care. But you are in my custody and everything about you is my
affair."
She couldn't fathom
why he should be so interested in her personal matters, and while she did not
think sharing her burdens would soften him toward her purpose, she could not
think of a reason to remain secretive. She sighed heavily, thought of her
parents, and felt a familiar wave of ancient
grief. "I was
born at Sweet Briar," she said, her voice low, not looking up at him.
"It is heaven on earth, a plantation near
Norfolk
,
Virginia
."
She smiled a little, for in spite of the ship's odors and the scent of the sea,
she could smell honeysuckle and lilac and freshly harvested tobacco. "My
father built our home with his own two hands, planted the first crops
alone." Finally she looked up, smiling sadly at him. "I loved my
father and my mother. Last fall they both died on a stormy night in a foolish
carriage collision."
He said nothing. If
he was at all moved by her plight, she could not see it in his expression, as
not a muscle in his face changed.
"I am the only
child. Sweet Briar is mine. But my guardian, the earl, is selling it in order
to pay off my father's debts." She laid her hands flat on the table,
gripping the smooth wood until her knuckles turned white. "I won't allow
it."
He stared and it was
a moment before he spoke. "I see," he said flatly. "You will
beat the earl about the head until he agrees to pay off your father's debts and
hand you the keys to the plantation."
This was her last
remaining chance.
Virginia
seized both of his hands and was
stunned at the feel of them in her small palms and against her fingers, stunned
enough by the contact not to see the surprise leap in his silver eyes. She
looked up and spoke swiftly, hoarsely. "If my uncle has to ransom me, he
will never be moved to pay my father's debts. As he decided to sell the
plantation without even consulting me, it will be hard enough to persuade him
to change his mind without your ransom! Captain, don't you see? I cannot survive
without Sweet Briar. I have to go to the earl. There can be no ransom! Please,
Mr. Harvey told me you are a wealthy man and that you hardly need this ransom.
Please, let me go—take me to
London
where I hope I am expected.
Please. I beg you."
Devlin removed his
hands from hers and stood. "I'm sorry," he said flatly, "that
you will lose your inheritance, but my plans are not flexible."
She leapt up with a
cry. "I am an orphan now! Sweet Briar is all I have!" she cried.
He walked to the
door.
"God, you just
don't care! You don't care about anything or anyone!"
He opened the door.
"I am losing
Sweet Briar because of you and your damned plan to ransom me," she
shouted.
He didn't turn. As he
left, he said, "No, Miss Hughes, you are losing Sweet Briar because,
apparently, your father was a very poor businessman."
Virginia
choked on the insult, but before
she could fling some equally wounding barb back at him, he was gone, the hatch
closing on the graying twilight sky.
She had decided there
would be one final attempt to thwart him.
Virginia
stood by a porthole, which
remained open in spite of the blustery day, and watched the Irish cliffs passing.
High rock cliffs towered above a strip of sandy beach beginning to give way to
more gently rolling country. She had decided not to antagonize O'Neill further
and had remained in his cabin since the day before. But hours ago, when the
first gulls had appeared overhead, she had cracked the cabin door to overhear
that they were already sailing up the river toward
Limerick
within mere hours.
Well, several hours
had since passed. The frigate was moving swiftly up the River Shannon. Here and
there she could make out a manor or a cluster of huts. The Irish countryside
was now lush and green, at times sheep dotting the hills.
How long would it
take to go up the river and reach the port at
Limerick
? She had no idea. A glance at his maps told
her nothing. But she was afraid to delay any longer, because if she waited too
long to commence her new plan, it would fail.
Virginia
went to the cabin door. There
was no sign of the young blond man, Gus. But she did see Jack Harvey, looking
sad and severe, standing below the quarterdeck. "Mr. Harvey! Please, sir,
I would speak with you!"
Harvey
glanced her way, incredulous.
Above him, a tall,
leonine figure at the helm, Devlin half turned and nodded, saying something to
Harvey
that
Virginia
could not hear.
Harvey
approached so slowly she began chewing on
her lower lip. Then she smiled brightly at him. "I must beg a favor of
you," she said.
"I am not
participating in any of your schemes," he began.
"Would you
please find Gus and send him to me? I need to bathe before I step off of this
ship. I only wish to ask him for some wash water."
Harvey
looked relieved that she had not
asked for something else. He nodded and went off.
Virginia
closed her eyes after shutting
the cabin door, wishing there could be another way—but Gus was scrawny, and
while he was a few pounds heavier than herself and a few inches taller, too, he
would have to do. She took one of O'Neill's silver candlesticks in hand, and
positioned herself so that when he came in, she would be behind the door.
She now prayed he
would come in alone.
Upon the sound of his
knock, she told him to enter, and quickly saw that another sailor was with him.
She moved away from the wall, holding the candlestick behind her back, smiling,
while they filled the tub with steamy water. As they began to leave,
Virginia
called out, "Gus? Please
wait. I have never been to
Ireland
before and I must ask you some
questions. It's terribly important."
As usual, he avoided
looking at her, while telling the seaman to go. The other sailor left.
Virginia
, her heart pounding, walked to
his side. "I heard most of the country is Catholic. How will I find a
Baptist minister?"
Gus seemed confused
by her question. He hesitated.
Virginia
walked behind him. He said,
"I'm sure the captain—"
Wincing, her desire
to escape overcoming her reluctance to hurt him, she; hit him with die
candlestick on the back of the head. Instantly, he crumbled to the floor.
She froze, terrified
she had hit him too hard, terrified he was dead. She dropped to her knees and
saw that he was breathing, but blood was staining the back of his blond head.
"I am so sorry," she whispered, reaching for his belt buckle. She
undid it and tugged his rather dirty pants down. The sight of his skinny legs
and calves did not affect her at all. In fact, he wore no drawers, but she
didn't even bother to glance that way. She did decide to take his dagger—it
might prove useful, indeed. She proceeded, with more difficulty, to get his
shirt off. Then she dove under the bed where she had stashed a good length of
rope. She tied his ankles, then used the same length to tie his wrists. She
gagged him with a stocking.
"Please don't
hate me," she said, rolling him under the bed. As she glimpsed his pale
face, she wondered if escape was worth it. This man had been nothing but
respectful toward her.
Of course, he dared
not be otherwise, given his captain's penchant for dismissing unruly crew.
Virginia
stripped off her corset, gown
and pelisse, leaving on only her chemise and pantalettes. Her shoes followed,
all shoved under the bed. She hopped into his pants, knotting the belt instead
of buckling it. His shirt followed, and finally, she tucked up her braid under
his wool cap. Then she looked down at herself, scowling because her bare feet
240
looked feminine. Then
she saw a lacy edge of her pantalettes peeping out from under the loose pants.
"Damn it,"
she cursed, rolling the underwear up. She raced to the porthole and gasped. A
good-sized town was in view, a collection of huts on the outskirts, followed by
stone houses, a few manors and churches, and finally, the town itself. A dozen
ships of varying sizes seemed to be at dock. None were even half the size of
the frigate; all seemed to be merchant ships or fishing vessels.
Then she saw a crowd
beginning to form.
•Children were
running from the town along the river, screaming wildly, heading toward the
approaching ship. Their shouts became more distinct, forming into whoops and
hollers. As the ship drew abreast of the motley, tattered group, she saw boys
begin to wave, grinning wildly. The ship was now sailing past the children and
Virginia
gazed back to see them
following.