“Got me a nice whore,” the man laughed, his breath foul with rotten teeth and whiskey.
“Devlin!” Virginia cried, trying hopelessly to break free of the marine’s grasp. And suddenly his grip eased and the marine howled in pain, hot liquid spraying over her. Dumbfounded, she saw that the hand still attached to her breast was severed from the marine’s arm. As dumbfounded, he stared at his armless shoulder.
A saber whistled and the marine’s head disappeared.
Virginia stumbled away, gagging, as the armless, headless body collapsed at her feet. She turned to see Devlin assault the other marine, his face frightening in its fury. As he landed blow after blow, she went down on her hands and knees, crawling away as fast as she could, somehow realizing that Devlin was insane with rage. Now, nearly paralyzed with terror, she turned from the ground and saw four dead marines not far from where she knelt. Devlin was viciously attacking the last soldier, clearly intent on murdering him, too. Suddenly Tillie was beside her on the ground, but she had eyes only for Devlin, wide and aghast.
A voice whispered in the night.“O’Neill.”
It was soft, taunting. Virginia knew that voice and knew the threat and she desperately wanted to warn Devlin. But the earth had tilted wildly and she had to hold on tight. Somehow, as her world spun around, she managed to look up. And the last thing she saw was Thomas Hughes standing behind Devlin, smiling as he raised his musket and aimed it at his head. And the last thing she heard was his gun being fired.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
HER DREAM WAS A TERRIBLE ONE;soldiers were everywhere, killing one another, and Devlin stood on the other side of a wall of fire, shouting for her, but she dared not run to him, for to do so would mean being burned. Desperate, she held out her arms; between them, the fire roared. “Devlin!” she wept.
“It’s all right.”
Virginia gasped, her eyes flying open, certain he had spoken, and as sleep instantly fled, she recognized her bedroom at Sweet Briar. She was there in her own bed. She turned her head, whispering, “Devlin?” She needed him so—she had never needed him more.
Tillie gripped her hand and stroked her forehead. “You’re awake,” she said softly.
Virginia blinked, a terrible dismay beginning. “Is…is Devlin here?”
“No, honey, he is not.”
And she lay back against the pillows, closing her eyes, seared with ghastly recollections of the battle of Hampton. And suddenly she could see Thomas Hughes pointing a gun at the back of Devlin’s head.Devlin had been there. He had come to her rescue when soldiers had seized her from behind. He had been enraged as she had never before seen him, murdering one soldier after another. And then Thomas Hughes had appeared, raising his pistol, pointing it at the back of Devlin’s head.
And she had heard the shot, hadn’t she?
“Where’s Devlin?” she cried, her heart beating frantically, filled with fear. “Please, God, tell me he’s all right!”
“Doc Barnes gave me some laudanum. Here, let me give you some,” Tillie began, holding a cup of tea laced with the drug.
Virginia struck her hand away, the cup and saucer falling to the floor.“Where is Devlin?”
More tears fell down Tillie’s face. “He went mad when he saw those men grab you. He killed them both, then went after the man holding me. He killed him, too. I never saw so much rage, honey, and he did it all in a single moment,” Tillie whispered.
She seized Tillie’s wrist.“Is he alive?”
The tears became a flood. “I don’t know,” Tillie wept. “Someone shot him from behind—and I didn’t see anymore—I had you to take away!”
Virginia somehow sat up. Her heart pounded with sickening force. The baby chose that moment to kick. She clutched her belly, trying to calm herself for the child’s sake, but it was impossible.Devlin could not be dead.“It was Tom Hughes,” she said hoarsely, in horror. “I saw him, I saw him shoot Devlin from behind. He wanted to murder him in cold blood!” And she began, finally, to cry.
Was this how Devlin’s obsession with his father’s murderer would end? With his own murder, as well?
Virginia closed her eyes and tried to breathe. She demanded composure and self-control of herself. Grief and fear would not serve her now. If Devlin were alive, she had to find him; she had to find him even if he were dead. But he could not be dead!
“Help me get dressed,” she said, and threw her legs over the bed.
“You’re supposed to stay in bed until the child is born,” Tillie shouted at her.
“My husband may be dead,” Virginia said quietly. She stood, holding on to the bed for support. Grief and fear continued to rack her, but she fought them both. How calm she sounded. “You can come with me or you can stay here. But I am going to find my husband, one way or the other.”
IT WAS A BRIGHT,HOT AFTERNOONand the town stank of death. Buzzards flew in the skies overhead, circling with deadly intent. The British were gone, of course, and the inlet and bay were blandly vacant except for a bobbing fishing ship. The American army had arrived and had set up a makeshift fort with a prison camp and field hospital on the perimeter of town.
Virginia was weak with fear and exhaustion and she walked with Tillie holding her under one arm. Frank trailed behind them, ever vigilant, as if expecting the hordes of British to descend upon them once again. A soldier at the camp’s gates had pointed out Captain Lewis, the camp’s commander, and she approached him now slowly from behind. She continued to hang on to her composure with every ounce of strength she had left, as it was all she had.
She burned with determination now. She would find Devlin, and she would find him alive.
