The Prize (55 page)

He finally pushed the
page away. Where the hell was Virginia, anyway? He understood that last night
she had pleaded a headache and had taken a supper tray in her room. Her
avoidance of him had been to his advantage, then, too—he had hardly wished to
speak with her so shortly after agreeing to their marriage. But it was noon,
another day, and he felt quite certain that she had not come downstairs for
breakfast, either. Virginia did not loll about her bed. What was more likely
was that she had gone out at dawn for a long walk. In any case, she continued
to avoid him, and now he felt pressured to meet with her and discuss the fact
of their future. Surely they could structure an arrangement that suited them
both. He felt it urgent to do so, and he intended to put her on notice that
little would change in their relationship except for her official title. And
as important, surely she was pleased with the impending nuptials—surely she no
longer hated him.

Benson appeared in
the doorway. Devlin tensed and sat up more stiffly, expecting Virginia. But it
was William Hughes who was ushered in.

He was very
surprised. He stood.

Hughes inclined his
head in a parody of a bow. Devlin imitated him exactly, becoming wary and
cautious. 'This is an unexpected surprise," he murmured. What could Will
Hughes want?

"Shall we cease
with any pleasantries?" William returned, standing stiffly where Benson
had left him.

"Oh, I don't
know," Devlin replied, moving out from behind his desk. William was very
unhappy, very displeased— why? His curiosity knew no bounds. "Brandy?
Scotch? Wine?" he offered, his blood heating with the call to arms that
this visit signaled.

William made a
dismissive gesture.

Devlin smiled at him.
"And how is the health of your brother?"

William seemed to
choke. "Cease with all pretense!" he cried. "I have had enough!
You have sullied the good Hughes name for the very last time. I have come with
an offer, O'Neill."

His cold smile fixed,
his hands clasped behind his back, Devlin said, "Do tell." Had
Eastleigh
, the coward, sent William to do
his dirty deeds?

His nostrils flared.
He held out a banknote. "This is the best I can do. It is not fifteen
thousand pounds, an absurd sum. It is three thousand pounds, and it is yours if
you release my cousin."

Devlin made no move
to take the offered note. He was stunned—and then he almost laughed, as the
money being offered him had been his to begin with, undoubtedly garnered from
their sale of Sweet Briar to him. "Does your father know what you offer
me?"

"Does it
matter?" William asked caustically, telling him that he did not.

Devlin shrugged,
accepting the note. "Actually, it does not."

William looked at him
with real disgust and walked out.

Devlin laughed
softly, wondering what he would say and do when he learned of die impending
nuptials.

When Hughes was gone,
he glanced at the bronze clock on his desk. Now it was almost one. He went to
the door. "Benson?" he called.

The butler appeared
as if by magic. "Yes, Sir Captain?"

"I wish to speak
with Miss Hughes."

Benson nodded,
swiftly leaving.

Devlin returned to
his chair, eyeing the first list at hand one of rations for his men. Salt beef,
salt pork, peas, oatmeal butter, cheese...he sighed and gave up. It had become
an urgent matter, to discuss the impending wedding with Virginia Was she
actually ill? Or had she decided to walk all the way to
London
? He looked up as Benson stepped inside,
drumming his fingertips on the desk. "Is she coming down?"

"She was not in
her rooms, sir. But I did find this upon the bed. Most curiously, it is your
seal—yet it is also addressed to you." Benson handed him a sealed letter.

Devlin leapt to his
feet, almost snatching the letter, instantly suspecting what was at hand.
"That is all," he said tersely.

Benson left, closing
the door, and Devlin slit the seal opening the letter.

The hand was feminine
and it was addressed to him.

Decembers, 1812

Dear Captain O'Neill,

I cannot marry you.
By the time you receive this letter,

I shall be gone. It
has occurred to me, with no small

amount of reflection,
my behavior has been foolish in

the extreme. It is
definitely time for me to go home.

I have many regrets.
Our failure to forge a genuine friendship is foremost among them. I also regret
the harsh words spoken yesterday. Please know that I hold no grudge, and that
in spite of all circumstance, I bear you no ill will. Indeed, the opposite is
the case. I do consider you a friend, even if the feeling is not a mutual one.
I wish you all the best, always.

Please give my best
regards to your family, as they have been nothing but kind. Sincerely, Virginia
Hughes

The
Countess of Eastleigh wasn't certain that she had heard the servant correctly.
"I beg your pardon?" she asked, her arms filled with the flowers she
had picked from the greenhouse. She set them carefully down on the huge center
table in the kitchen.

"Miss Virginia
Hughes has called, my lady," the liveried manservant replied.

For one moment
Elizabeth
stared, careful not to allow her
face to change expression. But she was more than surprised, in fact, she was
stunned. What could Devlin's mistress want? Why had she come calling? Had they
returned to Wideacre? And if so, why?
Elizabeth
knew all about the sordid affair at the Carew ball.

And she still did not
know what to make of it. It was astonishing that Devlin had brought his
mistress into polite society, but she had come to grips with the fact that she
did not know the man who had been her lover for six years. Her neighbors, Lady
Philips and Lady Cramer, had been very quick to tell her all about the ball and
the duel almost to the

death between her
stepson and O'Neill. Lady Cramer had been present at the scene (she also knew,
Elizabeth
was certain, of her own
involvement with O'Neill until recently), and she had been very obliging,
regaling Elizabeth and Lady Philips with numerous details of the duel.
According to her, O'Neill had been intent on murdering his rival and only his
stepbrother had prevented him from doing so.

Elizabeth
managed a smile and she quickly
handed a dozen tulips to a housemaid. "Please set these in a vase and put
them in my room," she murmured. Why on earth was Devlin's new mistress
here?

She had yet to
recover from his rejection, or worse, his using her so baldly to abduct her
husband's niece. If she did not hate William so, she would demand to know what
it all signified. If she had not been a faithless wife, she would have asked
the same of
Eastleigh
. But she could approach neither
man.

Yet
Elizabeth
was no fool. She had been
O'Neill's mistress. Now her husband's niece had that dubious distinction, and
Devlin had purchased Waverly Hall from the family some years back.
Elizabeth
began to sense that some
terrible plan was afoot.

"Bring
refreshments, Walden," she said, a decision made. Her curiosity won and
she removed her apron, washed her hands and left the kitchen.

Virginia stood in the
yellow salon, a pretty room quite large in size with a half a dozen seating
areas, the furniture obviously tired and worn, and two large chandeliers hanging
from the pink, gold and white ceiling. She wore a pale lavender dress with long
sleeves and a black pelisse, her dark hair tightly coiled to the back of her
head. Her posture was stiff and erect, indicating extreme tension, but
Elizabeth had only to look at her strained little face, devoid of all coloring,
and then into her large eyes, to realize with shock that she was heartbroken.

Her own heart lurched
and the awkward urge to comfort the girl came. "Miss Hughes?" She
smiled more naturally now as she stepped into the salon.

Virginia
tried to smile back, but it
appeared to be more of a grimace. "I am sorry if I am disturbing you, my
lady," she said, her tone low and hoarse.

"You are not
disturbing me,"
Elizabeth
said, gesturing at a seat.
"Although I will confess, I am quite surprised by your call."

Virginia
smiled sadly and sat down,
perching on the edge of a faded bronze satin chair.

Elizabeth
also sat, and thought,
She
really is terribly pretty, and I think I begin to see why Devlin would wish to
have her. But she is so young...
Elizabeth
refused to recall her own age, but her husband's niece was almost twenty years her
junior. "Are you in residence at Wideacre?" she asked politely.

Virginia
shook her head. She smoothed
down her skirts, gazing at her lap.

A silence fell.
Elizabeth
felt terribly sorry for her, as
she appeared so lost and so miserable.
At least I am a married woman,
she
thought,
a woman of experience, one capable of bearing the brunt of real
hurt.
Surely Devlin had been
Virginia
's
first lover. No wonder she was crushed. Had he rejected her now, too? "It
is such an exceedingly pleasant day for this late in the year," she said.
"Although I have heard that there will be rain before the week is
out."

Virginia
looked up, biting her lip.
"I must beg your help, my lady," she whispered.

Elizabeth
could not stand it. She reached
out and took
Virginia
's hands in her own. "My
dear, you know we are family. Given the circumstances, I had not really
thought about it, but now, seeing you so saddened, it comes back to me. Of
course I will help you if I can."

Virginia
looked close to tears. "I
must get home to
Virginia
," she said. "And I
have no money for the fare. If you could but lend it to me, I promise I would
pay you back."

Elizabeth
did wish to help, but lending
her any spare coin, when her funds were so strained, was out of the question.
"What has happened, child?"

Virginia
shook her head as if she could
not speak. "I must go home."

Elizabeth
hesitated, choosing her words
with care. "And Devlin will not let you go? For he certainly can spare the
fare for your passage."

Her face tightened.
"I have run away, my lady» I have run away from him, and I must leave the
country immediately, before he can possibly find me."

Her brows lifted and
she was seized with rabid interest. "But did you not love him?"

She held herself
proudly. "Yes."

"Has he abused
you in some way?"

Her eyes widened.
"Is it not abuse to be flaunted about the world as his whore?" she
cried.

Her language took
Elizabeth
aback. "I have never understood
his behavior," she said carefully.

Virginia
stood. For one moment she
stared. "It is not my place to explain to you his motivations—I refuse to
get between your family and him. I only beg you to spare me the fare to return
to
America
. I cannot go on this way!"

Elizabeth
also stood. Clearly
Virginia
remained fond of Devlin,
otherwise she would have no inhibitions about speaking of him and his aims.
"So you still love him," she said.

Virginia
shook her head in denial.
"No. My heart is broken for the last time. There is only pain."

For one moment
Elizabeth
was so moved that she could not
speak. She clasped
Virginia
's cheek. "Why? Why has he
treated you so miserably?"

"When I am gone,
you may surely ask him,"
Virginia
said stubbornly.

"First myself
and then you. And he lives at Waverly Hall. He almost killed Thomas. I would
almost suspect he has a grudge against my family." She laughed a little
then.

Virginia
stared.

Her eyes widened in
incredulity. "Is that the case?" she cried.

"You must ask
him,"
Virginia
said firmly. "Have you anything
to spare me for my escape?"

"I so wish I
could help you,"
Elizabeth
said softly, still reeling from
the possibility that all of Devlin's actions were the part of some vast grudge.
In that case, his sharing her bed for six long years had nothing to do with
love or desire, but with something else entirely. "But, my dear, we have
nothing to spare."

Virginia
seemed dismayed. "Would you
at least send me back to
London
in a coach? I used the few
shillings I had to get here."

That she could do.
"Of course. So you will return to him after all?"

Virginia
flinched. "Never!" she
said.

"My lady?"
The butler appeared with a tea cart.

As he wheeled it in,
Elizabeth
was almost relieved by the
interruption. "Shall we have some tea?" She smiled. "Our chef
also makes wonderful scones."

"I am afraid I
must return to town immediately,"
Virginia
said, making no move to sit.

Elizabeth
decided that a hasty departure
would be for the best. "Walden? Have my coach brought around and tell Jeffries
that he will take Miss Hughes to
London
."

"Yes, my
lady," Walden said, quickly leaving.

Elizabeth
poured a cup of tea. "Are
you certain you do not wish some tea before you leave?"

450                          

Virginia
shook her head, moving to the
window. She stared outside.

Elizabeth
remarked her poor manners,
sipping the tea herself. Yes, she was very fetching, but surely that was not
why Devlin had made her his mistress. No, it had something to do with some kind
of vendetta he held against her family. There was no other explanation.

Ten minutes later,
Virginia
was in the countess's coach.
Wrapped in a cashmere shawl,
Elizabeth
waved as the coach rolled down
the drive. Then she ceased smiling and hurried inside. "Walden, where is
the earl?"

"He has taken a
walk with the hounds," Walden replied.

That was good.
"And William?"

"In the library,
my lady."

Her heart raced. She
despised William and sometimes she was even afraid of him, but there was no
choice. She hurried through the house, purposefully not looking at the patches
of peeling paint, the scarred tabletops or the cracked floors. The library door
was closed; she hesitated and then walked in.