The Prize (43 page)

Her heart began to
pound.

"Is it
true?" the countess asked softly, touching his chest.
No, God, no,
Virginia
thought,
this cannot be.

"I'm afraid so,
Elizabeth," he said, and he walked away.

The woman cried out,
a flush covering her cheeks, and she stared after him distraught, trembling, a
woman with a breaking heart. "But I am your mistress," she said.
"And suddenly you replace me, like this?"

"I am
sorry." Devlin returned, handing her a brandy. "I never made you any
promises,
Elizabeth
. I am afraid things have
changed."

Virginia
clung to the door.
Devlin's
mistress had been
Eastleigh
's wife?
It was too horrid to be believed
and while she felt deeply for the countess, she was ill. She could never, ever
compete with a woman like this.

Elizabeth
held the brandy to her full,
very bare bosom, her knuckles white. Her pallor was increasing. "I know
you never made a single promise. Oh, God. I still fail to understand. I somehow
thought that here hi
Britain
I was all that you wished."

"Perhaps you
should sit down?" Devlin asked politely and so impersonally.

"I am in love
with you, Devlin," she cried.

"And I told you
once, that would not be wise."

"Oh, God."
Suddenly she looked ill enough to faint and she sat down with Devlin's help.
She clutched the drink but made no effort to sip it. "You don't care. You
don't care at all, do you?"

                              355

His jaw flexed.
"As I said, things have changed."

"No, you were
always heartless—I merely prayed that it was not true!" She somehow stood,
eyes wide and moist. "Who is she? Is she an actress?" The countess
was holding on to her dignity with what was clearly a great effort. She set the
untouched brandy down. "I mean, you are living here openly with her. You
have jilted me for some harlot?" Tears finally filled her eyes.

"You do not wish
to make a scene,
Elizabeth
," Devlin said calmly.

"But I do!"
she cried. "And I wish to meet this woman you have so callously replaced
me with!"

"I am afraid
that is not possible," Devlin said. "I am sorry if I have hurt you.
Perhaps you should leave, before you say something you will regret on the
morrow."

"I have been
your mistress for six years, and just like this, it is over?"

Virginia
gasped and in that moment, she
somehow pushed the door wide open and fell into the room. She landed on the
floor in a heap, not far from where the lovers stood.

Virginia
looked up slowly.

Devlin's brows were
lifted while the countess stared, still agonized and shocked. He said,
"Spying,
Virginia
?" And he helped her to her
feet.

Virginia
wanted to ask him why, why had
he done this? Why was he doing this? How many innocent people would he hurt to
avenge his father? But she was incapable of speech.

"That's
her?" the countess cried. "But she is a child!"

Virginia
fought for a degree of
composure. "I am eighteen,"
Virginia
said. Then she curtsied. "My
lady."

The countess covered
her brow with her hand, turning away.
Virginia
looked at Devlin, wanting to berate him and wishing, desperately, that she had
never met this woman, not knowing what she did now.

The Countess of Eastleigh
had been his mistress for six years.
Virginia
  remained stunned and heartsick.
Devlin
would never fall in love with her, not if he had never fallen in love with the
countess.

A terrible silence
had fallen. Devlin broke it, speaking quietly. "Virginia, the countess is
leaving. Why don't you go upstairs for a moment or two? I shall be up
shortly."

Before
Virginia
could respond, a refusal on the
tip of her tongue, the countess turned. "
Virginia
? Her name is
Virginia
?" Her gaze became wildly accusing and
it turned to Devlin. "That is not my niece, is it?"

"I am afraid
so," Devlin said, and he seemed braced for her reaction. The countess
cried out.

Virginia
could not stand it anymore. She
ran to her and said, "Please, do sit down. You are suffering a terrible
shock. And you need not worry, really, he doesn't love me—or even care for
me—at all."

The countess blinked
at her, tears falling now. She said, "You would be kind to me?"

Virginia
nodded. "Because you are
right, he is heartless, and no one deserves to be cast off in such a
manner." She glared at Devlin. He was actually grim, as if displeased or
unhappy with the entire affair.

The countess wiped
her eyes and stared. "We thought you drowned."

"No. I was
transferred to his ship and—"

Devlin seized her
arm. "You need not bore the countess with the details," he said in
real warning.

She glared at him and
struggled to shake him off. "You are a bastard. Let me go!"

He started and
released her.

Virginia
sent him another murderous look.
Perhaps, finally, she hated him.

He spoke to the
countess, but never removed his stare

from
Virginia
. "
Elizabeth
, I am afraid I must ask you to leave."

"Yes, it is time
that I left." But she stared intensely at
Virginia
now, so much so that
Virginia
forgot how furious she was with
Devlin and apprehension began. And finally the countess glanced at Devlin.
"Have you hurt her?"

His brows lifted.
"Hardly."

The countess turned
to
Virginia
.

Virginia
flushed. "I am fine—all
circumstances considered."

"I hesitate to
wonder what that may mean.
Virginia
, you are far too young, in spirit
if not age, for a man like Devlin. I fear for you, my dear."

Virginia
didn't know what to say.
"His bark is worse than his bite," she said, hoping her tone was
light. Then added, "Usually."

The countess glanced
back and forth between them again. "Don't make the terrible mistake that I
made. Do not allow yourself to fall in love with him. He will never love you
back." Her smile was twisted and sad and she walked out.

It's too late,
Virginia
thought. She walked to the door,
staring after the countess, admiring her for her dignity and pride. She was
unbearably saddened.

Devlin
paced the dining room, stiff with tension. He glanced at his watch fob—it was
well past seven. He glanced at the door, but
Virginia
did not appear there.

The table was set
with crystal, fine china and gilded tableware, all brought from his ship.
Covered platters steamed between the candelabra.
Virginia
was late.

She was avoiding him.

She had been avoiding
him for three days, ever since Elizabeth's visit, but that was for the best,
as it was becoming harder and harder to trust himself around her. It was becoming
harder and harder to use her callously as an instrument of revenge. He knew
damned well their bargain and her charade was taking a huge toll upon her. He
was
sorry, when he did not want to be, and it
would
be easier in
London
.

He had only to
recollect her teasing humor, or her sincere desire for friendship, her passion
or her outrage, to sorely wish to set her free.

If he set her free,
all temptation would be gone.

Those men made me
feel like a whore.

Guilt shackled him
now. It was an emotion he was rarely visited with. He had wished to throttle
Aston and pummel Jayson, instead, he had somehow played the game. Now, Gerald's
sightless eyes seemed to be accusing him of perfidy instead of begging him for
justice.

His temples throbbed.
He paced to the terrace doors, rubbing his neck, as if that might remove the
turmoil and tension from his body, his being, his mind. Gerald's accusing gaze
turned into
Virginia
's huge eyes, as accusing, and
then they became wide with hurt, an expression he had come to know so well. He
truly wished she had not come home to meet
Elizabeth
. He wished he could have spared her that afternoon.

But she had thought
to befriend and comfort
Elizabeth
. She was the most unpredictable
woman he had ever met. She was also the kindest and most sincere.

She lay naked in
the bath: small perfect breasts, long, slender legs and in between, an
intriguing cleavage covered by dark curls.

He knew that
Virginia
had no clue of how difficult it
was, living with her like this. She did not know that he slept in the library,
only coming to his makeshift bed just before dawn. He had let the servants
think he suffered from insomnia and worked into the wee hours of the night.

He finally bounded up
the stairs. Guilt continued to assail him. His path of revenge, once smooth,
had become a twisting rocky road. He was doing what he had to do, what his father
would want him to do—he was fulfilling his duty as Gerald O'Neill's son. There
was simply no other choice, not for him. His life was meant to be one of hatred
and revenge. Sean was the one entitled to family and love.

He stumbled on the
steps. What in God's name was he thinking?
Family and love ?
Those
concepts had naught to do with him and they never would.

360                          

He did not feel
reassured.
Elizabeth
's soft, tearful words echoed in
his mind, her advice to
Virginia
.
Don 't fall in love with
him. He will never love you back.

He genuinely hoped
that
Virginia
heeded her advice.

He debated knocking,
thought about catching her in her bath, and as relish replaced the guilt, he
walked in unannounced. But
Virginia
lay in bed in her childish
nightgown and wrapper, reading a book.

She smiled a little
at him. It was forlorn. "I'm sorry. I am not joining you for supper. I'm
afraid I have no appetite." Apparently she was no longer furious with
him.

He paused at the foot
of the bed. The gown might be childish, but he knew every inch of the perfect
body that lay beneath, a body that belonged to a woman. "Are you
ill?"

"No." She
carefully closed the book. "You never loved her, did you?"

He hardly wished to
discuss
Elizabeth
with her now. "No."

"Was she also a
part of your revenge?"

"Yes." He
felt himself grimace.

She inhaled, paling.
"That's disgusting, Devlin, horrid and disgusting."

"Is it?" He
grew angry then. "She enjoyed every moment in my bed. There was no pretense,
no insincerity, no promise on my part! She dared to cross the line—a line I
made clear—she dared to fall in love. I am sorry she did, I am sorry if I hurt
her, but I do not apologize for what I did.
Eastleigh
deserves everything I can do and
more!"

"Then why don't
you simply murder him, as two wrongs make a right, and end this stupidity once
and for all!" she cried, sitting up straighter. Her small bosom rose and
fell and her cheeks flushed.

"I thought about
it," he said, hoping to shock her, and he knew he did. "But a long
time ago I decided death was too good for him."

"So you think to
make him suffer." She shook her head as if she could not fathom it, him.
"Please tell me that you genuinely feel guilty for using
Elizabeth
the way that you did."

"But I don't. I
was not her first lover, Virginia, I was not her first adulterous affair. She
wanted my attentions and made that abundantly clear. It was little different
from our bargain,
Virginia
." He knew he glowered at
her. It was becoming harder and harder to play poker with her as he did with
the rest of the world.
Virginia
somehow triggered reactions in
him—and feelings—that no one else could.

That was distinctly
disturbing.

"It was vastly
different because you knew she had feelings, and dear God, it's been six
years. You made love to that woman for six years!" she cried, two pinks
spots coloring her cheeks.

"I never made
love to her or anyone," he said, and the moment he spoke, he was ashamed.

She was pale and she
lifted her chin and held her head high. "Of course you haven't," she
whispered.

He knew he had
wounded her and he hated it. He hated that fact and the fact that he had been
the one to take her innocence and teach her passion, and he hated that she had
to be so vulnerable now. But what he hated most was that she wanted him to make
love to her and he knew it beyond any doubt.
But love was not for him.
And
what he also hated as passionately was that she had somehow made him even think
this last, terrible thought. "
Virginia
,
we have a bargain, my friendship for your charade."

She stared.

"Do not think of
asking for something more, something I cannot—will not—ever give," he
warned her now, deliberate and purposeful. He gripped the footboard with one
hand. His knuckles turned white.

"I only asked
you for your friendship, Devlin. You are deluded if you think I want more than
that. I mean, what more could I possibly—sanely—want from a man who has abducted
and imprisoned me?"

Her pride had always
impressed him. Now it also relieved him. "Tomorrow we are going to
London
," he began.

"No. I beg to
point out a fact. You have been so busy parading me about as your mistress
that you have failed utterly to be any kind of friend. Sharing supper does not
count as friendship, especially when you brood over your wine and glower at the
food."

He started, then
controlled the smile that wanted to come to his face. "You are
right," he said, relieved now and surprising them both.

"You admit this
has been quite a one-sided bargain?"

"I do."

Her eyes widened and
her face softened and a sparkle appeared in her eyes. "So what are you
going to do about it, Captain?" she teased.

His heart leapt
strangely. "When we get to
London
,
I will take you shopping, to a fair, to the theatre, perhaps even to the
racetrack, and we will rectify this vast injustice," he said, feeling
himself smiling back. And it felt so good to be sharing a moment of humor with
her.

She grinned, and it
was like the sunshine emerging from the gray Irish sky. "Well, it's about
time," she said.

He hesitated.
"Are you certain you will not come down and dine with me?" he asked
softly, and oddly, her answer mattered very much.

She became still.
Then, her mouth pursed, she nodded. "Give me a few minutes to dress."

He left, pleased.

London
.
Virginia
had seen drawings and sketches and there
had been the stories told to her by her father. She had

always dreamed of one
day visiting that city. They had arrived within hours of leaving
Southampton
and they had departed at dawn.
Now
Virginia
clutched the windowsill of the
carriage, trembling with excitement as their coach took them through the city
toward
Greenwich
, where Devlin kept a borne on
the river. She could not keep her gaze from every sight and scene. She had
never seen so many fine vehicles and conveyances, so many well-dressed
gentlemen, so many stunning ladies. The street they traveled on boasted fine
shops and gracious hotels, the occasional theatre and park.
Virginia
craned her head to look twice at
a lady in a shocking pink ensemble—pink boa, pink parasol. She turned to face
Devlin and asked breathlessly, "Did I just see a harlot?"

"Or someone's
very bold mistress," he said with a smile.

His smile was easy
and genuine and it made her heart tighten as she automatically smiled back. She
reminded herself that he had used the countess shamelessly and callously,
while that poor woman was in love with him, but her internal meandering had no
effect. She sighed and faced the street again. Now they passed a series of
stately and gracious mansions, all with perfectly manicured lawns, rose
gardens and stone statues and water fountains.
Virginia
smiled and shook her head. "One would
think the wealth of the entire world resides here," she said.