Devlin shrugged, not perturbed. Then he turned and faced an incredulous Tom Hughes. "I have something for you," he said mildly.

"Is this a trick? If so, it is exceedingly clever," Hughes accused, stiff with alarm and watching Devlin's hands as if he expected to be a.s.saulted with a dagger.

"My tricks are done. The game is over," Devlin said, "and I am wasting time. Here." He handed another parchment to Hughes, written while in the brig earlier that day.

Hughes was wary. "What is this?"

"A deed," Devlin said, and took a deep breath of the sweet Virginia air. It felt different, tasted different, smelled different-it was somehow clean and fresh.

"I have no use for Sweet Briar!"

"The deed is to Waverly Hall. I don't want it. It's yours."

Hughes gaped.

Devlin gestured to a seaman who came running. "I am going ash.o.r.e," he said. "Prepare a dinghy." And his heart raced as he thought of seeing Virginia again.

"Aye, sir!" The sailor ran off, barking orders.

"You are returning Waverly Hall to us?" Hughes had followed him to the railing of the ship. He was clearly in disbelief.

"Yes, I am."

"I don't understand."

"It doesn't matter." He stared at the sandy beach and the forest beyond, thinking of Virginia again.

"It matters!" Tom Hughes cried. Then he lowered his voice. "My father murdered your father. You have committed your entire life to revenge. You have stolen our home, bedded my stepmother, made a mistress out of my cousin, beaten me to a near pulp and I almost murdered you the other day! So it does matter!"

Devlin didn't even bother to look at him, for the dinghy he had requested was being lowered into the swells and his heart raced with excitement. "I no longer want revenge," he said. "I want something else."

VIRGINIA FELT BEATEN. The buggy paused before the house and she was so tired she just sat there, staring at the white columns on the porch and the pink roses growing up against the railing. At least Devlin was not among the dead left at Hampton.

But he was a prisoner now, a prisoner of his own people.

Tillie patted her arm. "We'll send a letter to Admiral c.o.c.kburn right away. You're his wife. The admiral has to tell you how he is and where he is," she said firmly.

Tears filled Virginia's eyes. "He was protecting me. He only killed those soldiers to protect me. Surely if I tell that to Admiral c.o.c.kburn, he will let Devlin go."

"First we have to write him," Tillie said as firmly. And suddenly she stiffened.

Virginia saw her surprise and turned back to the house, following her gaze. And standing there on the porch in a simple shirt, britches and high boots, was the most welcome sight she had ever seen. She cried out, incapable of movement, as Devlin came slowly down the porch steps, his gaze upon her, intense and unwavering.

"Devlin," she managed, beyond relief.

He came to the buggy and clasped her hands. His face was strained with emotion, his eyes wide with anxiety. "Thank G.o.d you're all right," he said roughly.

Virginia could not speak. She was stunned-for his eyes were also shining with tears.

He smiled a little and cupped her cheek. "I have never known so much fear, Virginia, as when I found Frank in town and he said you were there...." He could not continue. He choked.

Virginia watched in amazement as tears rolled down his cheeks. "You're crying," she whispered, shocked. She felt certain that this man had not cried since he was a small boy, watching his father die.

He nodded, still unable to speak, and the tears continued to slide down his sun-bronzed cheeks. He opened the carriage door to help her out, but he pulled her into his arms instead. He held her hard against his tall, powerful body. "You almost died, Virginia. It was my fault. Because of my d.a.m.ned need for revenge, you could have died yesterday in Hampton. Everything that you have suffered, you have suffered because of me and my revenge. I am sorry. I am so sorry. But a mere apology is not enough."

She touched his damp cheek as more tears fell. "Devlin, I cannot regret anything we have shared!" And somehow, it was true. She loved him so much that she treasured every memory, both the good and the bad, the bitter and the sweet.

He shook his head. "We both know that you are being kind, and I do not deserve your kindness." He hesitated and beneath her hands, his body trembled. "When I saw that marine attack you, I went mad with rage, I was truly mad-I was ready to kill every redcoat in my path. I have never been so blinded with rage-except when I saw Tom Hughes a.s.saulting you at the ball. I felt the same murderous intent then-because I love you, Virginia," he said.

She went still. Her heart beat hard. She trembled wildly. How she had yearned to hear these words from him, and now, finally, after so much loss and grief, after so much time, so much pain, her time had come. "You love me?" she whispered, dazed. And elation began.

He nodded, smiling through his tears. "In truth, I have loved you for a very long time, from almost the beginning, when we first met. I was so afraid, Virginia-I was so afraid of you. I was afraid to choose love and joy, because I only knew revenge and hate."

"And now?" she managed, stunned.

"I am still afraid, but the pain of our separation has been too much to bear. I cannot stand to be apart from you," he said simply. "Can you teach me how to live with joy, Virginia? Can you teach me how to love?"

Virginia was amazed. The pain was in his gaze. It was the same pain she herself had withstood for so long, for the very same reasons. "I can teach you all those things, Devlin," she whispered. "Does this mean...what I think it does?" She was afraid to hope.

He nodded soberly, another tear sliding down his cheek. "You asked me to choose, and I made the wrong choice. I know that now. So I am choosing you and our child, Virginia."

She cried out and he held her hard, for a very long time. When he spoke again, it was in a rough whisper. "It's over. Never again. I gave Hughes the deed to Waverly Hall. It's truly over, darling."

She wept against his chest, tears of joy and happiness.

"I was going to ask you for your forgiveness," he said roughly. "But I will not ask that because I do not deserve it. But I will do anything that you ask of me, anything, even though nothing that I can do could possibly make up for what you have been through." He looked down at her and their eyes met. His were shining with love, but the fear was there, too. "Will you return to me? As my wife?"

She smiled and cupped his cheek. "I never left you, Devlin, not in my heart. You have had my heart from those first few days when you took me hostage aboard the Defiance."

He hesitated. "I love you, Virginia, and I know I cannot live without you. I know that now."

She was thrilled. She clasped his hands and held them to her chest. "And you already have my forgiveness, Devlin. I cannot blame you for choosing a life of hatred and revenge, given what happened to your father."

He nodded. "It's time to let Gerald rest in peace-and I want peace, Virginia, I need peace the way I need you."

Virginia laughed, thrilled. "So we will start over?"

"Yes," he said softly, kissing each of her hands tenderly in turn. Then he gave her a significant look. "I resigned my commission."

She could only gape, stunned.

He smiled slowly at her, then took a deep, cleansing breath and stepped to her side. They gazed together at the handsome brick plantation home and the fields beyond, rippling and green with the summer's new crops. "Sweet Briar is doing well," he said quietly, his gaze moving over the rolling fields as if he were inspecting one of his ships, and then he looked down at her, taking her hand. His smile was warm and loving. "I think we should divide our time. Half of the year here, the other half at Askeaton."

"You would stay here for half of every year?" she cried in surprise.

"Would that please you, my darling?" And he smiled more broadly.

"Very much," she whispered. With Devlin at her side, she knew they would make Sweet Briar prosper. They would harvest its fields of tobacco and fill its halls with children. But she loved Askeaton, too, for in her many months there as his hostage, she had come to think of the manor as her home. They would make his ancestral home prosper, too, and more important, those dark and ancient halls would soon be filled with love and laughter and as many of Devlin's children as she could bear. Her heart pounding in excitement, she took his hand. "This pleases me very much."

"Then I am pleased." He took her in his arms and kissed her forehead tenderly. "I missed you terribly, Virginia. From this day forward, I will fulfill your every wish."

She smiled up at him and had to laugh. "I do doubt that, somehow...Captain."

"I mean it," he said, with such fervor that she laughed again.

"Then it is my wish that we go inside so I can introduce everyone to my husband."

He bowed, sending her a seductive look, leaving her in no doubt as to what he wished to do-and soon. "After you, my darling."

She took his hand and, smiling, they went inside, the new master of Sweet Briar and his wife. Now there was simply too much joy to bear and, finally, the future beckoned, shining and bright.

Virginia could not wait.

AUTHOR'S NOTE.

Dear Reader, As always, when I am writing a "more historical" historical romance, I try to blend as much fact as possible with fiction. While many Americans are blissfully unaware of the War of 1812, most of us, myself included, are absolutely ignorant as to the reasons for the war, the extent of the actual fighting, the loss of lives and the war's duration. Some of the reasons for the war I have suggested-internal politics were as significant as fear of British domination, free trade, impressments and the agrarian agenda to expand into Canada. Loss of life was terrible, and the war was really under way by 1811, although the Chesapeake Affair was in 1807! The war did not end until February 1815, although a peace was concluded the previous December.

All battles alluded to in The Prize are historical fact. Devlin's fifteen-minute victory over the USS Independence is wholly based on the exploits of Captain Philip Broke of the Shannon, who sent his sister ship away, lured the Chesapeake out of Boston harbor and demolished her in fifteen minutes. Fortunately, the British failed to carry out their invasion of Norfolk, Virginia; as unfortunately, the ma.s.sacre at Hampton and some of the atrocities I have described were committed and were even worse.

I have loosely based the naval career of Devlin O'Neill on that of Thomas Cochrane, the eldest son of a Scottish earl, his family an old and distinguished one without means. He was one of the greatest British fighting naval captains ever, a man at once notorious for his exploits at sea in battle and for his unorthodox strategies and his innovative naval thinking. He was also well-known for his insubordination and lack of respect for the admirals ranked above him. In the middle of his career he became a radical M.P.-a fervent champion of the poor and the oppressed. I am not the first to base my fictional hero upon his life; the hero of Patrick O'Brien's bestselling seafaring series is also based on the life of this truly amazing man.

As many of you may already know, Devlin is a descendant of Liam O'Neill and Katherine FitzGerald (The Game), while the Earl of Adare and his sons are descendants of Rolfe de Warenne (The Conqueror). I feel sure that most of you must be asking how Liam's family lost their land and fortune, and how the de Warennes wound up in Ireland. The history of England and Ireland from the Conquest to the Regency is one of extreme political turbulence and the rise and fall of family dynasties. The British conquest of Ireland happened over centuries, in stages. Fortune-hunting landless younger sons fought in Ireland for the Crown, and were rewarded for their triumphs with land taken from the original Celtic kings and n.o.blemen, who were defeated and then dispossessed. Many of these Norman and English settlers became as Celtic as their native forebears in the earlier years. During Queen Elizabeth's reign, the final subjugation and colonization of Ireland was completed-by the time of her death, very few Catholic Irish lords owned their ancestral lands, most of it being in the hands of the Anglo Protestant interlopers. Some of these lords intermarried with the original Celtic families; most preferred to wed into a British family. Being Irish and Protestant was second cla.s.s, being Irish and Catholic far worse. It had now become criminal to be a Catholic.

Clearly one of Rolfe's grandsons sought his fortune in Ireland, establishing the de Warenne dynasty there. Clearly the O'Neills fought one rebellion too many against their English overlords, resulting in their dispossession. And as for Devlin being Catholic (Liam was Protestant), his great ancestress Katherine FitzGerald was also Catholic.

I hope you have enjoyed The Prize. After writing contemporary romance for several years, I have found it a real joy to write about a bygone time when men were really men and women dared to try to tame them. Frankly, it was a blast! I have discovered that there is no genre I prefer writing more-telling Devlin and Virginia's story was like coming home. I hope to continue writing about these two extraordinary families. The second book in this saga, which I am currently about to complete, is The Masquerade, Tyrell's story. It will be published in the fall of 2005.

Please visit my Web site at www.brendajoyce.com. I visit my message boards frequently and will answer your questions there. If you need to catch up on the O'Neills and de Warennes, you can find all my novels listed under Novels, including The Game, The Conqueror and Promise of the Rose.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Happy reading, always, Brenda Joyce.

ISBN: 978-1-4603-0193-7.

Also by New York Times bestselling author.

BRENDA JOYCE.

The de Warenne dynasty.

A Dangerous Love The Perfect Bride.

A Lady at Last The Stolen Bride The Masquerade.

The Masters of Time Dark Embrace.

Dark Rival Dark Seduction Watch for.

Dark Victory.

March 2009.

and.

Dark Lover.

August 2009.