The Prize (54 page)

Her sadness felt like
grief, heavy and depressing, a weight that threatened to sink her down.

Virginia
heard voices on the terrace
below her window. Her puppy came to stand beside her, whining.

She started, as she
had not known they were having company. She heard a man's and a woman's voice,
both terribly familiar.

Her cheeks heated.
She recognized the woman instantly and she thought, oh no! For it was none
other than Mary de Warenne, which meant the man with her was the Earl of Adare.

A knock sounded on
her door.
Virginia
was hardly surprised, and
reluctantly she turned. "Come in."

Hannah smiled at her.
"Captain asks fer you to come down to dine, Miss Hughes. Her ladyship and
his lordship are here, as well."

Virginia
smiled grimly. "I have a
headache," she said. "Please send my regrets, but I will not be going
down to dine tonight."

"Shall I bring
you a supper tray?" Hannah asked, instantly concerned.

"I have no
appetite,"
Virginia
said.

When the maid was
gone, she walked over to the sofa and sat down, pulling the puppy, whom she'd
named Arthur, close, staring at the fire in the hearth while stroking him. Then
she buried her face in his fur, but she did not cry.

It hurt so much. The
heartache this time was worse than it had ever been, because she had truly
allowed herself to hope and dream of Devlin's love. But how foolish and naive
could she be? Devlin had no heart. He was incapable of loving anyone. He had
proved it once and for all. She simply could not wait for the future, for a day
when he was not even the vaguest memory.

And that day
would
come, she insisted to herself. It
would,
although perhaps it might
take some time. But surely in a year

                              
435

or two, or maybe even
three, she would not even recollect his features.

She felt even more
anguished and more saddened than before.

"
Virginia
?"

Virginia
gasped, turning.

Mary de Warenne stood
in the doorway in a ginger silk evening gown, trimmed with bronze lace. She
smiled. "I knocked several times. I'm sorry, but when you did not answer
I thought to come in and check on your welfare. Are you all right?"

Virginia
stood. "I have a headache,
but it will pass," she said tersely.

Mary smiled.
"May I?"

Virginia
had no choice but to nod.
Miserably, she whispered, "Do come in."

Mary did so, closing
the door behind her. She paused at
Virginia
's
side, her expression far too inquisitive and far too searching. "How are
you, my dear?"

"I suppose I
have a bit of an influenza," she managed. She dreaded the interview she
sensed would follow.

Mary searched her
eyes. "I understand you and my son have been living together openly."

Virginia
flushed. "You are very
direct."

"I am very
ashamed," Mary said, and although she was blunt, her tone was soft.
"I raised Devlin to know right from wrong and to treat women with
respect."

Virginia
backed away.

"He has used you
terribly, I fear," Mary said.

Oh, dear, the anguish
had returned, vast and full force, threatening to break like a flooding dam.
Virginia
turned away.

"I am truly
furious with him. But what I want to know is if he has hurt you—other than your
heart?"

Virginia
gasped, whirling. "I cannot
answer that!" she cried.

"I believe I
have answer enough," Mary said gently, and she came forward. Before
Virginia
could protest or elude her, she
had embraced her. "I like you very much...daughter."

Virginia
knew she must not cry. Then she
realized what Mary had called her and she flinched.
"What did you
say?"

Mary smiled and
brushed some curls away from her eyes. "I called you daughter."

Virginia
shook her head, speechless.

"For you shall
be my daughter—very soon. Edward and I have discussed it at some length. Some
small length, actually, as there was so little to discuss. My son will do what
is right."

Virginia
shook her head, disbelieving,
backing up.

"He will marry
you, Virginia, have no fear, and he will treat you with the respect owed a
wife. Of that I have no doubt," Mary said firmly. "Edward is speaking
with him now." And she smiled, waiting for Virginia to tell her how
pleased she was.

But Virginia could
not speak, not for a long moment. She was in disbelief. Briefly, she saw
herself in her wedding finery, Devlin in his dress uniform, standing before a
priest. Then she shook the terribly fanciful image aside. She finally said,
hoarsely, "Thank you, my lady."

"Come, let us go
downstairs," Mary said, placing her arm around her.

Virginia prayed for
help. She said, "My lady? I truly must rest in bed this evening. I am
afraid I would be very poor company if I joined you in my present state."

Mary kissed her
forehead. "I understand. I will have a light supper sent up.
Virginia?"

Virginia turned away
to avoid eye contact. "Yes," she whispered.

"Everything will
turn out for the best, I feel certain of it," she said.

Virginia could not
nod. Mary left, gently closing the door behind her. Virginia sank down in the
nearest chair.

Nothing would turn
out well. For it was simply too late. She would not marry Devlin, not even if
he were the last man on this earth.

Devlin offered his
stepfather a glass of red wine and then sat down in an adjacent chair. Edward
sipped and said, "This is damnably good."

"Yes, it is,"
Devlin returned, glancing at the open door. But his mother and Virginia did not
appear. The standing grandfather clock in the corner of the room chimed half
past the hour. He hadn't seen her since their terrible conversation that
morning and he could not deny that he wished to see her now. He sincerely hoped
that she had recovered from the encounter.

"I heard you
have received new orders," Edward commented, setting his glass down and
comfortably stretching out his long legs.

"Yes. I leave in
two weeks. I am to participate in our war with the Americans," Devlin
said.

Edward nodded.
"It's ironic, is it not? The triumphs in Canada, when we are so outmanned
there, and the losses in the Atlantic, when we are the greatest navy on the
earth."

"The Americans
are a tough and fierce lot," he remarked, a pair of huge violet eyes,
flashing with hatred, in his mind. He shifted, aware of a seizure in his chest.
But it was her right to hate him and he was glad—he merely had to remind himself
of this yet another time.

"And that affair
last night?"

"I was wondering
if you had heard," Devlin said, bracing himself for the censure he felt
certain was to come.

"Devlin, for
God's sake, what did you expect, bringing her there, that way?" There was
disapproval in Edward's tone.

Abruptly Devlin
stood, wine in hand. "I was called in by St. John today. I've truly heard
it all. Yes, I made a mistake, and frankly, I am sorry for it. However, Hughes
got a beating—which is almost what he deserved."

"And
Virginia?" Edward stood. "What did she deserve?"

He tensed.

"Or rather, what
does
she deserve?"

"Edward, I am
well aware that I have behaved shamefully. She did not deserve to be used in my
scheme of revenge. But I have made amends, I hope." He met Adare's
unwavering gaze. "I have purchased Sweet Briar, which I intend to give to
her, and I will take her home when I set sail," he said tersely.

"The son I
raised knows what she presently deserves, and it is not to be tossed away over
your father's bloody grave."

"I regret all
that I have done," he said sharply. "Isn't it enough that I have
bought Sweet Briar for her?"

"You tell
me."

Devlin met his dark,
blazing eyes. "You know the life I have chosen—you know the man that I am.
I am not a family man, Edward," he warned.

"But your father
did not raise you to be a rogue. He raised you to be the family man you have
just spoken of."

The blow was a fierce
one, for Edward was right. "Do not bring my dead father into this,"
Devlin said sharply.

"Why not? Your
father's murder is the crux of this matter—as it is the crux of your life.
Good God, he died fifteen years ago! When will you let him rest in peace?
When?"

Devlin turned away,
trembling. Sean had said the exact same thing, but he could not let go of the
past, the effort being beyond his capacity.

"There is only
one manner in which you may make

amends to Miss
Hughes, and you damn well know it," Edward said softly to his back.

He did know it. He
had known it for some time now, though from precisely when, he could not be
certain. The only real way to make amends was through marriage. And Virginia's
violet eyes flashed.
Today there is only hatred.

Hatred, so much
hatred... It was all Devlin knew and he had taught Virginia the horror of it,
too. "I doubt she would have me," he heard himself say.

"Of course she
will have you! Will you marry her, then?" he demanded.

He faced his
stepfather and the devil had returned, ripping not just his heart but his
entire being in two. And he actually wished that he were a different man, one
incapable of ruthless vengeance, a man capable of letting go of a ghastly
past, a man worthy of Virginia's love. But he was not.

Nothing had been
resolved, nothing yet was finished.

"When will you
decide that you have had enough of this terrible obsession? When will you
decide that there is a chance for happiness? When will you choose joy over
pain?" Edward demanded softly. "When will you choose to live?"

"If you had been
murdered as Gerald was, Tyrell, Rex and Cliff would do just as I have to avenge
you," he said, speaking of the earl's three sons.

"I hope
not," Edward said. "You know what you must do. I imagine that
somewhere in the back of your mind, you have known all along."

Mary stepped quietly
into the room, closing the door behind her. " Devlin? I love you the way
only a mother can love her firstborn, but this is about right and wrong. It is
about honor and dishonor, and it is about duty. If you are truly my son— the
son I have raised—you will do what is honorable and you will stand up with Miss
Hughes." Tears filled her eyes. "I know you will honor Virginia with
marriage—I know it," she said.

440                          

And he was lost. He
could not refuse the woman who had borne him into this world, the woman who had
raised him, loved him and succored him until his thirteenth year, when he had
gone to sea. He could not refuse his mother, who somehow retained a remarkable
and unrealistic faith in him, and they were both right, this was the only real
means of making amends.

Last night I gave
myself to you with joy and love.

He closed his eyes,
fiercely resistant, sweating. He did not want this. He did not need joy, he did
not need love, but surely he could marry Virginia and maintain a proper
distance between them. Surely he could marry her while maintaining his true
course—revenge. Nothing had to change, really, except for her title and the
fact that her stay with him would now be a permanent one. ' "Devlin?"
Mary asked.

He turned and met her
gaze. With a bow, he said, "I will marry Virginia. Plan the nuptials, I
will be there." And there, it was done, the act of honor, what was right,
because there was no choice after all.

Mary cried out and
rushed to embrace him, tears wetting her cheeks. "Darling, she will make a
wonderful wife, I am certain of it."

Devlin nodded but he
felt dazed. And oddly, he was also relieved. He had thought to return Virginia
to her home, never seeing her again. Instead, they had a lifetime to share.

God, he would have to
tread with care or he might truly fall under her spell, he thought with a stab
of uncertainty and panic.

"Edward, we have
a wedding to plan," Mary was saying with delight. "And no time in
which to do it!" She smiled at Devlin. "I expect you wed within the
next two weeks, well before you set sail on the
Defiance."

* * *

Devlin found it
impossible to concentrate on the task at hand. His first officer had presented
him with a list of supplies that he needed to authorize, but the words on the
velum blurred. The oddest feeling of relief consumed him, and he could not get
over the fact that he was to marry Virginia before the
Defiance
set
sail on December 14.