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.

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 t.i.tle 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.

G.o.d, 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 vellum 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.

He finally pushed the page away. Where the h.e.l.l 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 t.i.tle. 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 the 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, b.u.t.ter, 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 s.n.a.t.c.hing 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.

December 5, 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 circ.u.mstance, 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

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

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 ap.r.o.n, 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 hoa.r.s.e.

"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 circ.u.mstances, 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 pa.s.sage."

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 wh.o.r.e?" 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?"

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.