As Devlin moved to deliver a fatal blow, a thrust meant to pierce Hughes’s heart, the crowd cried out and Tyrell gripped his wrist, forestalling him.“Do not.”
Devlin’s smile was savage.“Get out of my way.”
“You will not kill him,” Tyrell returned, and as he held Devlin’s wrist, his knuckles were white.
Virginia closed her eyes and prayed.
“He is not worth it. He did not kill Gerald, Devlin. He is not the one you seek,” Tyrell said softly.
Virginia opened her eyes and saw Devlin standing there, poised to kill, wanting to kill, a truly savage man.
“Virginia is not hurt,” Tyrell added even more softly.
Devlin’s entire face tensed. He glanced at her briefly then back at Hughes, and suddenly his posture relaxed and he stepped back.
A number of sighs escaped from the watching guests. Virginia felt her knees buckle in the same terrible relief that one and all were feeling.
And then a dozen officers were rushing to Hughes to administer to him. Devlin suddenly sheathed his sword, turning, and his gaze found hers again. Instantly he strode to her. “Are you all right?” he demanded, staring, not touching her, his eyes moving over her face and hair, finally to linger on her lips, which she thought were bloodied but could not be sure. His glance then took in the torn bodice of her gown. His eyes turned chilling again.
The ability to speak escaped her. She could only nod, incapable of tearing her gaze from his. In that instant, he was the safest harbor she had ever known.
His jaw tightened, his eyes darkened, and he put his arm around her. “We are going home,” he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY
VIRGINIA COULD NOT STOPtrembling. She knew it was foolish—she was bruised, but other than that, she was hardly the worse for wear—and she did not want Devlin to see how cowardly she was. Still, the tremors did not cease. She could not forget Thomas Hughes’s brutal assault. She could not forget his hand cruelly twisting her breast, or worse, his tongue invading her mouth. Her stomach heaved as Devlin’s coach swerved wildly and then bounced over a rut. Virginia closed her eyes and hung on.
“Virginia?” he asked softly.
She did not want to speak to him now. She doubted she could—she remained far too close to hysteria. She hugged herself, huddling in the coach’s far corner, other images afflicting her now.Devlin had wanted to kill Thomas Hughes.She had seen it in his eyes.
“We will be home shortly,” Devlin said, his tone odd, as if uncertain. “Within minutes,” he added.
She nodded, refusing to open her eyes because his tone sounded suspiciously concerned and she was afraid she might cry. Of course he had wanted to kill Tom Hughes. He had spent most of his life burning with the need for revenge against Eastleigh and all that was his.
“Virginia, are you in pain?”
She simply could not speak, so she shook her head, and it was not really a lie. Her wrist and breast throbbed, but it was so much more than that. Devlin seemed to want to know what was wrong. But she could not tell him.
Tom Hughes had treated her like the whore the world thought she was. She could never play this game again, and if it meant losing any chance to win his love, so be it. It had become crystal clear, anyway, that he did not have any soul left with which to love any woman, much less herself.
How easily he had been triggered to murderous intent.
“We’re here,” Devlin said, sounding grim.
The coach had slowed and was now stopping; Virginia opened her eyes and saw the terribly welcome sight of Waverly Hall. A footman leapt off the back of the coach to open her door. Devlin adjusted her satin wrapper, concealing her torn dress.
Virginia’s heart tightened. Why did he bother? She knew she had a split lip, a telltale sign of her disaster. She wanted to thank him, but she still didn’t trust herself to speak.
She stood and allowed the footman to help her down to the sidewalk before the mansion’s front steps.
Devlin jumped down behind her, as agile as a jungle cat, and she was swept back in time to another place—to the deck of theAmericana,as she had gripped the railing and gazed at the fierce ocean, wondering what her fate might be at the hands of the pirate captain.If you think to leap to a watery death, think again. I will not let you die.
Oddly, his refrain pierced the night as if she were back on theAmericana,newly seized, as if Devlin stood there behind her, as if he had just uttered those words again.
Devlin carefully took her arm, and Virginia leaned heavily against him. Once in the hall, he circumvented Benson from assisting her with her wrap. “Send Hannah to the master suite instantly with hot water, towels and brandy. Miss Hughes has had a fall.”
Benson nodded and hurried away.
