"It's a wench," someone cried.

"d.a.m.ned spy's a woman," someone else agreed.

"Miss Hughes is our guest and she is not a spy," Sean said, moving to stand protectively beside Virginia and Devlin.

Virginia nodded, wetting her lips, which felt parched and cracked. She stared into a sea of hostile, suspicious faces and saw their hatred. "I'm not a spy," she tried. "I saw Devlin's horse and-"

Devlin jerked on her, hurting her, a command that meant, "Be silent," and as he did so, someone said loudly, "She's English! The wench is English!"

Virginia started, although this was not the first time she had come face-to-face with people who had never met an American before and therefore a.s.sumed her unfamiliar accent to be British.

"Hang her." Tim McCarthy stepped forward. "She knows too much."

Virginia gasped and looked at Devlin but he ignored her, stepping forward. "There's not going to be a hanging, not of anyone, not today," he said calmly, but with an authority that only he could muster. "Miss Hughes is American, not English, and she's my fiancee."

The crowd was silent, but dozens of eyes had widened in surprise.

Virginia seized at the hope he offered. "Yes," she cried, stepping forward, "Devlin is my betrothed and I only came to-"

He took her wrist and almost snapped it off, but before she could cry out, he had jerked her forward and smothered her words with a kiss.

Virginia gasped. His mouth was hard and angry and hurtful. His arms felt like the iron bars of a prison cage, steel bands tight around her. She vaguely heard some mutters behind her, mutters about O'Neill having taken a bride. She tried to press him away, but his grip only tightened, his lips turning more ruthless, and that was when she felt his arousal.

It was red hot, leaving no doubt whatsoever as to his state of mind and body, and she instantly forgot about the terrible meeting she had just witnessed. Instead, as his mouth started to soften, causing her own lips to instinctively yield and part, she thought about Fiona. His tongue swept inside. Fiona.

Last night he had been in bed with Fiona.

Virginia bit down on it.

He jerked away from her, but he did not yelp or release her. Virginia stared furiously up at him-he stared as furiously back.

"Let me go," she murmured, low and threatening.

"Like h.e.l.l, my sweet little bride." And he smiled and swooped down on her again. But this time, before he kissed her, he hissed, "Pretend you love me, cherie, as your life might well depend on it."

Virginia felt real despair, as his lips brushed her mouth, and worse, his hands slid so intimately over her back and lower still. But he was right. She was trapped. He pulled her closer still, perhaps thinking to punish her, for the surge of sensation engendered by contact with him was just that, unfair, unjust punishment. "Kiss me back," he ordered so only she could hear.

All the hurt she had thought safely tucked away in some far and distant place where it could never come back crashed over her now. She knew she should kiss him so that the onlookers would think their engagement real. She simply couldn't. It was impossible to kiss a man while crying.

And he knew. His body stiffened far differently, the tightening in his shoulders and spine; his roving hands went still, and his mouth, while covering hers, no longer sought to invade. Virginia finally managed a weak and pitiful closemouthed kiss.

He pulled away and looked closely at her.

She wanted to curse him to h.e.l.l but did not dare, as the crowd had fallen silent. She felt a dozen pairs of suspicious eyes and she summoned up a smile that had to be as pathetic as it felt frail.

His stare intensified.

Someone cheered, "Captain O'Neill and his bride!"

The cry was taken up.

Devlin smiled coldly. He put his arm around her in such a way that she could not move an inch if he did not let her do so. He faced the crowd, which no longer seemed suspicious. "My little fiancee could not wait for me to return home," he said mockingly.

Rough male laughter sounded.

But McCarthy said, "Will she be sworn to secrecy, Captain?"

Devlin smiled coolly at him, with real warning. "She would never betray me, Tim."

He nodded slowly, not even looking at Virginia, his gaze hopeful and eager and riveted on their leader.

"Let's go," Sean said, appearing with his horse and Devlin's. He was smiling pleasantly, but Virginia saw the wariness in his gray eyes. For one moment, as his glance moved over her, she saw so much of Devlin in him. His gaze was as cold, his expression as controlled. She sensed a new wariness and some hostility. Was he suspicious of her? she wondered, surprised. Or was it the men in the meeting he did not trust?

Devlin's hands closed around her waist and before she could protest she was seated on his stallion. He swung up behind her and the saddle was far too small for them both. She held her breath, for otherwise she would turn and quell him with a look. He didn't seem to notice as he spurred the gray forward.

"How did you get here?" he asked tightly, his breath feathering her ear.

So he was angry, she thought, thinking of Fiona again. Good, because she hated him and she always would. "I rode."

"Really? And who gave you permission to do so?"

"No one," she said snidely.

He was silent. As the bay mare had become visible, grazing farther up the hill, she knew he had seen her horse. He changed his horse's direction, causing them to canter toward the bay. "What is on your mind, Virginia?" he asked.

"Nothing," she snapped.

"Good, as I have no patience for you today." He halted abruptly beside the bay.

Virginia started to get down, but he wouldn't let her. "You are riding with me," he said, dismounting and untying the mare.

"Like h.e.l.l I am!" she cried.

He stared at her. Slowly, he said, "I am the one who is angry, Virginia, as you were spying on me. How much did you hear?"

She lifted her chin. "Everything."

He smiled then, so ruthlessly that she shivered. "Then you may never leave Askeaton, my dear."

She gasped, "You don't mean it!"

"Oh, but I do."

"But, my ransom?"

"Your ransom pales in significance right now," he said. "And it is my duty to protect Sean and the others."

Her mind raced. "I didn't hear anything!"

He swung up behind her. "That's not what you just said."

"I lied. I really didn't hear anything!"

"Liar. Pretty little liar." He had yet to ask his mount to move. "Why didn't you kiss me when I told you to? Your life hung in the balance and that was an order, not a request."

"I don't take orders from you," she managed.

He finally looked very irritated, indeed. Then he asked, "And why did you cry?"

"I had dirt in my eyes," she flung.

He stared searchingly. "You are a terrible liar. I would not recommend dishonesty, Virginia, as you are as easy to read as a children's book."

"Then why am I angry?" she asked with false sweetness.

His prying gaze never wavered. "I don't know. But I will find out." Abruptly he spurred the gray forward.

Virginia would have fallen off except for his strong grasp, which tightened as the horse surged forward. She bit off her cry, as she refused now to give him any satisfaction at all. They rode the rest of the way back in a charged and uncomfortable silence.

SEAN WAS WAITING FOR HIM when he came into the library. He had his hip balanced against the edge of the desk, his arms folded across his chest. He was almost scowling. "What did you do with her?"

"She's in her room. Connor has orders to watch her every move."

"Maybe she should be kept under lock and key," Sean said tersely.

Devlin was almost amused. He poured himself a brandy, offering his brother one, who declined. "I thought you were her champion."

"How much did she hear?" Sean asked tersely, not amused.

"I don't know precisely, but I intend to find out-one way or another."

"d.a.m.n it!" Sean suddenly exploded, coming off the desk and pacing. "What the h.e.l.l was she doing at Canaby's farm?"

"Probably following us," Devlin said.

"Now what are you going to do? For G.o.d's sake, you can't return her to Eastleigh now!"

Devlin sat down in a huge leather chair, stretching his legs out in front of him, gla.s.s in hand. "I'll have to return her sooner or later."

Sean stared, his gaze wide. "That meeting was treasonous and you know it, even if nothing has been planned. We could lose everything-and you, an officer in the navy, could wind up swinging from the nearest yardarm for this, never mind the d.a.m.nable ransom you intend!"

"It's more likely they would chop off your head and stick it on a pike. You're their leader."

"Is that funny?" Sean was disbelieving. "They are looking for hope, Devlin, and I am trying to give it to them."

He sipped. "No, but it's odd, isn't it? Like father, like son."

"And now you choose to be morbid? I will not allow a rebellion. But Devlin, you are holding Virginia against her will. She has terrible information that she could use to bring us both down."

"What do you suggest? Should I send her to the bottom of the sea?" But Sean was right. Virginia needed to keep her mouth closed and her lips sealed, even though what she had seen looked far worse than what it was. He knew from Sean's letters how angry and desperate their people were and that once or twice a year they held local meetings. His arrival home had precipitated this one. Even if he hadn't been invited to attend, he would have done so. But the men were not planning an uprising. They were farmers and cotters, more interested in feeding their families than losing their lives. And while free speech was sedition in wartime Great Britain, everyone was encouraged to speak freely at these meetings. Tim McCarthy and the others had called a meeting mostly because they desperately wanted to hear what Devlin had to say. As Sean had said, they desperately needed hope.

Sean was pacing. Devlin wanted to calm his brother down. "Sean, you need not worry. I will not allow Virginia to bring the British down upon you and the others. If I have to, I will tell Virginia the truth. Our people are frustrated, angry and hungry, but we will not allow a futile armed struggle."

Sean did not appear rea.s.sured. "I do not think Virginia is in the mood to listen to anything that you might say."

"She'll listen," he said, instantly grim. What had been wrong with her that afternoon? Why had she been crying?

Sean hesitated. "Devlin, I have a solution, I think, as far as Virginia is concerned."

"Pray tell."

"One of us should marry her."

Devlin spilled his drink.

"I'm deadly serious."

He quickly placed the snifter on a small end table, wiping his hand on his britches. "And who is to have the honor of making Virginia a happy, loving, loyal wife? Oh, let me guess! That honor would be yours?"

"I would marry her if she were willing. But it's not me that she wants."

"I am not marrying that penniless American orphan, Sean," he warned. His heart was racing with alarming speed, as if he were about to sail his ship into a hurricane.

"Why not? After all, you are the one victimizing her, and only you can make this just."

"Are you serious?" Devlin could not get over his brother's suggestion. It was beyond absurd. Virginia was going to Eastleigh directly upon his receiving his ransom, and if her plantation home was sold, she would undoubtedly reside in England with her family.

"I said I am. I do not wish to lose Askeaton, and you certainly do not need to lose your head." Sean gave him a grim look, then continued the pacing he had left off.

"The one thing I am not about to lose is my head," Devlin said wryly. "Cease worrying. There will be no accusations from Miss Hughes."

Sean stared.

Devlin didn't like the unwavering look. "What is it?"

"If you will not marry her, then I want permission to court her."

Devlin started.

Sean began to flush. "I know you've had her in bed. I could lie and say I don't care, but I do. However, if it stops right here, I can live with that. Give me permission to court her, to win her over, to marry her."

"No."

Sean flinched.

Devlin hadn't even thought about it before refusing, and now, as angry as he was, his mind began to tell him that if the little American wanted to cause problems, Sean's idea wasn't a bad one. First he could ransom her and break Eastleigh, then Sean could marry her, undoubtedly winning her loyalty and love. The two of them could live happily ever after at Askeaton while he was gone.

But Sean could do better, and Devlin intended for that to be so.