Her heart began to pound.

"Is it true?" the countess asked softly, touching his chest. No, G.o.d, 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, G.o.d. I still fail to understand. I somehow thought that here in 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, G.o.d." 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?"

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 b.a.s.t.a.r.d. 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 circ.u.mstances 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.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

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 d.a.m.ned 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 pa.s.sion 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 wh.o.r.e.

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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s, 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 a.s.sail 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 ent.i.tled to family and love.

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

He did not feel rea.s.sured. 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 appet.i.te." 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 G.o.d, 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 pa.s.sion, 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 pa.s.sionately 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 home 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?"