Read The Prize Online

Authors: Brenda Joyce

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

The Prize (49 page)

BOOK: The Prize
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"Oh, I am so
sorry about your parents," Lady Arnold said.

Virginia
thought that beneath her very
bright eyes, she was kind. "Yes. Thank you."

"And Captain
O'Neill? Is he a family friend?"

Virginia
hesitated. Should she get this
over with? Would it not be better to do so, sooner rather than later?

Lady Arnold said
politely, "I do not mean to pry, of course, but I have never seen the
captain in the company of a single woman."

She wet her lips.
"He has been very kind. I am...staying at Waverly Hall."

Her brows lifted with
mild interest. "Oh, yes, the home he purchased from your uncle. Is your
family in residence there?"

"I'm afraid
not,"
Virginia
said. And she simply could not
go through with it. "Excuse me, my lady, but the captain

beckons." And
aware of some surprise, she hurried over to Devlin. His regard was searching.

"I am afraid I
may not play our charade well tonight," she said tersely.

"You need not
play any charade, tonight,
Virginia
," he said. "You need
to merely be with me, at my side, until we leave." His jaw flexed and he
looked away, as if he could not meet her eyes. "My lord Carew." He
bowed, facing an older, heavyset gentleman. "May I present my dear friend,
Miss Virginia Hughes?"

Virginia
's headache knew no bounds. She
stood apart, watching the many dancers, having no recollection of the steps as
the line of men and women formed and broke, partners circling and changing
couples before meeting yet again. Devlin spoke with several men but a short
distance away, and she knew from their repeated glances in her direction that
these men distinctly understood her status in the world.

She was miserable.

"Would you like
to dance?"

She whirled and met
Tyrell de Warenne's smiling countenance. "My lord! I'm afraid I have
forgotten the steps," she confessed. Then she realized she had forgotten
to curtsy and she hastily did so.

He touched her,
restraining her. "Please, Miss Hughes, I feel we know each other well
enough to dispense with formality."

She was relieved.
"You British are all so formal!" she explained. "It has been
shocking, trying to adjust."

"Yes, I imagine
so," Tyrell said gently, with a benign smile. He held out his arm.
"Shall we take a turn about the gallery?"

She glanced at
Devlin, who had turned to stare at them. "I doubt he will allow it. I have
been insufficiently flaunted."

Tyrell's smile
vanished. "
Virginia
, may I speak freely?"

She tensed.
"Please do."

"My entire
family is furious with Devlin for his behavior and his bringing you here is the
least of it."

She gaped. And she
was aware of Devin leaving his group of gentlemen and striding calmly toward
them. She was not deceived. She saw the purpose in his stride and sensed the
determination, as well.

"I merely want
to advise you that there will be justice, Virginia. You will be shortly
compensated for all you have been through, my father will see to it."

She had no idea of
what he meant. Compensation? Suddenly she was seized by hope—would they aid
her in paying off her father's debts? That would surely be compensation for
all she had been through!

Devlin paused, taking
Virginia
's arm. "Are you trying to
lure away
Virginia
's affections, Ty?"

"As if I would
ever trespass upon
your
affections, Devlin," Tyrell said.

Devlin nodded while
Virginia
ignored the exchange, too busy
thinking about the compensation that would soon be hers. Finally it seemed as
if her terrible turn of bad luck was about to change.

"Shall we
dance?" Devlin asked almost formally.

She started. "I
lied. I cannot dance, not a single step."

He finally smiled at
her. And the warmth reached his eyes. "I find the whole pastime rather
boring myself. Shall I get us some champagne?"

She nodded, wishing
he had suggested that they leave. She felt fortunate to have thus far escaped
any unpleasant and humiliating encounters.

Devlin nodded and
walked away.

Tyrell said, "As
you are otherwise engaged, good evening. I hope we shall see each other
soon." He bowed.

400                          

Virginia
smiled, curtsied and watched him
leave. And suddenly she was truly alone.

It was an odd
feeling, and not a pleasant one, to be surrounded by three hundred and fifty
guests yet to be standing conspicuously by oneself. And she
was
conspicuous.
With Devlin and Tyrell gone, several groups had turned to gaze at her and she
had the distinct feeling that she might be the topic of conversation. One group
of ladies stared and spoke rapidly, fans fluttering.
Virginia
felt certain that they were discussing her.

She turned her back
to them and was faced by three handsome gentlemen, and in unison, they all
smiled at her. She took a step back.

They approached. The
nearest one, a gentleman of thirty or so with shocking red hair and extremely
pale blue eyes, bowed. "I do not believe I have had the pleasure of making
your acquaintance," he said.

She smiled, summoning
up all of her courage now. "No, I do not think so. I am Virginia
Hughes."

"John Marshall,
at your service," he said, with another, more cursory bow. "You are
an American?"

She nodded.
"Yes. But I have come to
England
to visit my uncle, the Earl of
Eastleigh." That story had served her well and she decided to continue it.

"So
Eastleigh
is your uncle?"
Marshall
seemed delighted. "And you
are in Captain O'Neill's party tonight?"

She could not decide
if he knew that she had accompanied Devlin alone. "Yes." Her smile
was fixed.

"May I present
my good friends, Lords Halsey and
Ridgewood
?"

Virginia
smiled and exchanged
pleasantries as the men bowed. She felt as if she were surrounded by the enemy—
which she most certainly was.

"And how is it
you have become acquainted with Great

Britain
's greatest—and most
notorious—war hero?" Ridge-wood asked. He was tall and pale.

"Oh, come,
George, we all know O'Neill always takes the prettiest for himself."
Marshall
laughed and the others joined
in. But then, his smile not reaching his eyes,
Marshall
said, "It's no secret O'Neill is quite
at odds with your cousin, Tom Hughes. How interesting that you accompany your
cousin's bitter foe to this evening's soiree."

Virginia
shrugged helplessly.

"Miss Hughes and
Captain O'Neill are dear friends—I have heard it said so," Halsey said
with a grin. He jabbed
Ridgewood
with his elbow. "Very dear
friends. You are residing at Waverly Hall, are you not?"

"Yes,"
Virginia
managed, hating them all and
hating Devlin, too. She could not do this anymore. She hadn't won his
friendship; the bargain worked only for him; she had had enough.

"May I call on
you, Miss Hughes? Tomorrow, perhaps?"
Marshall
asked, leaning far too close for comfort or
civility.

"Excuse
me," she cried, turning and rushing into the crowd.

It was hard to see.
The room was a blur of brilliant reds, blinding gold, purple, blue and green,
with stark black evening clothes in between. But how could she see? Tears had
interfered with her vision and she could not breathe. It was so damn hot and
airless in the ballroom...if only she could be transported across the ocean
back to her
Virginia
home.

There will be
justice. You will shortly be compensated.

Tyrell de Warenne's
singular statement brought some small measure of relief as she stumbled into
the gallery outside of the ballroom. There, perhaps a dozen guests strolled.
Virginia
hurried down the gallery and
turned the corner. Another gallery ran down the side of the house, barely lit
with the occasional wall sconce. Most of the illumination came

from a series of huge
windows and the moon and stars outside. Thankful to finally be alone, she went
to a window and leaned on the stone sill. Pain had seized her abdomen, cutting
through it with the intensity of a butcher's knife. She had to get away. She
could not go on like this.

They are dear
friends
—/
have
heard it said so.

Virginia
kept breathing until she was no
longer panting, until some of the pain had lessened. If only she could hate
him. She knew she should, but she simply could not.

He is not a ruthless
monster...but he is not kind. His ability to be kind died the day our father
died.

He is not
indifferent. It is a sham, a pretense, a huge theatrical act.

I am asking you to
save my brother.

Virginia
cried out, because Devlin was
beyond salvation and that had become terribly clear. Her stomach so hurt her
again that she clutched herself, bending over.

"If it isn't my
dear, dear, American cousin."

Virginia
straightened, gasping with
dread, and slowly, she turned.

A naval officer, lean
and handsome, faced her, smiling. He bowed. "Lord Captain Thomas
Hughes," he said. His smile remained in place and it did not reach his
gleaming eyes. "How thrilled I am to finally make your acquaintance."

Virginia
needed air. "My lord,"
she said cautiously, glancing wildly around. But Devlin was nowhere to be
seen.

"You act
afraid," Tom Hughes purred. "But surely, my dear cousin, you are not
afraid of me?"

She simply could not
speak. She sensed a terrible intent on her cousin's part and backed up against
the stone windowsill.

"Are you
enjoying the ball,
Virginia
?"

She couldn't even
nod. "Ex...excuse me," she whispered, and somehow stumbled past him.

But he seized her
arm, whipping her back against the stone ledge. "Are you enjoying the ball
as much as you are enjoying Captain O'Neill's bed?"

She cried out,
alarmed, and tried to shake him off. "Unhand me. You are hurting me,
sir!"

His grip tightened.
He leaned close. "I heard he fucks like a bull. Is that what you like?
What you want? My little cousin—my little whore?"

The pain shot through
her entire arm and she thought she might faint. "Please," she gasped.

"Oh, yes, yes,
indeed, the word I have so waited to hear." He jerked her forward and
before she even knew it, he had his mouth on hers.

Virginia
tried to struggle. But he
pressed her brutally into the stone wall with his body, grinding down on her
mouth with his teeth as well as his lips, so violently that instantly she
sobbed. He thrust his tongue deep and she gagged; as he raped her mouth, she
felt his hand delve inside her dress and he seized her breast, crushing it in
his hand. More pain exploded in her, and then she felt his arousal against her
thigh and blackness began. She fought it as she tried uselessly to fight him.
But he kept her pinned against the wall as he mauled her. She had not a doubt
that if she fainted she would be raped. Still she began to swim into the
beckoning depths.

"I will kill
you."

Devlin's strangely
fierce words stabbed through the darkness and suddenly Tom Hughes was gone.
Virginia
collapsed to the floor, still
sobbing, her chest and her arm throbbing with pain, and she heard a man scream.

Choking, she looked
up.

Hughes lay on the
floor, and above him, on the wall, was blood.

Coherence came.

Devlin kicked him,
"Get up, coward," he said very softly.

She had to stop
him. He had meant his every word. He was going to murder Hughes.

But
Virginia
could not yet speak.

Hughes got to his
hands and his knees. "She's only a whore." He spat blood.

Devlin lifted him to
his feet and threw him against the stone wall. Then he caught him as he fell,
lifted him again and slammed his gloved fist into his face. Something shattered
there.

Virginia
ignored all pain and got up.
"Devlin, stop! Stop it now!"

BOOK: The Prize
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ads

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