“Step out of the tub, Virginia,” he said, his expression strained.
She stepped out, and the moment she had both feet on the wood floor, he released her. “I didn’t know it would be this hard!” she cried.
He stared, silent.
“Those men made me feel like a whore.”
He hesitated. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” she cried wildly.
“Actually, yes, I am.”
“How relieved I am, you have some capacity for compassion in you,” she said, marching past him and into the bedroom.
He followed. “I have changed my mind. We won’t stay here long. London will be easier.”
“Why?” She faced him. “Because there are many mistresses there—and many whores?”
“You are not a whore, Virginia.”
“Tell Lord Aston and his friend.” Then, because he continued to stare, she flung, “And tell yourself, as you have certainly looked at me as if I am!”
His expression hardened. “I have never looked at you as if you are a whore. No one knows better than I that you are practically a virgin. No one!”
She could only stare, as he was almost shouting. What did this loss of control signify?
He calmed. “And I was not looking at you as if you were a whore.”
“Oh, you did not stare at my breasts and…” She could not continue and she felt her face flame.
“I was merely admiring a beautiful woman.” He stalked out.
His words sank in. She ran to the door and stared after him in real surprise.
WHEN HIS BROTHER WALKEDinto the library, having just arrived from London, William threw his quill aside and did not stand up. He stared at him, a slender, handsome man with the pale blue eyes the Hughes men were renowned for, and he scowled. Thomas Hughes, Lord Captain R.N., was in his naval uniform, and he slapped a pair of gloves down on the desk. “I hope that there is a damned good reason you have called me down to Eastleigh, Will,” Tom said bluntly.
“I sent you a letter a week ago!” William exclaimed, leaping to his feet.
“I had matters at the Admiralty I could not leave unattended,” Tom said darkly. “We are in a war, Will, or have you forgotten? Actually, we are in two wars, as the damned colonials have gotten their feathers all trussed up after all that squawking no one gave any credence to. Did you hear the latest? We lost theMacedonianand theFrolic.”
Will calmed. “No, I haven’t heard—not two of His Majesty’s battleships?”
“They were both frigates. Amazingly, those bloody colonials seem to know how to sail and, worse, how to fight.” He turned away from his brother and began to pace.
“It was pure luck, I am sure. There is simply no way the American navy, which I read has maybe a dozen old ships, can engage our fleet and survive.”
“I agree—and that is the thinking at the Admiralty.” Tom turned, legs planted apart. “But they also captured theDetroit,theGuerriereand theCaledonialast month. We are routing them in Canada, however.”
“That is also rather amazing,” William murmured, as everyone he knew believed the war on land in Canada a certain lost cause, since the British and their Indian allies were terribly outnumbered and the question of supplies was insoluble.
“Liverpool came down yesterday. I was asked to be at the meeting by Admiral St. John. He is forever sticking his nose in our business! He does not want any more lost battles at sea. He is furious over our losses there,” Tom said harshly.
William straightened, struck with a notion. “This might be good news, actually.”
“How so?” Tom sat in a large and fading red damask bergère chair.
William walked to stand before the empty and cold fireplace. “I asked you to come home because O’Neill has taken up residence in Wideacre, although my sources tell me he plans to leave for London in another day.”
