The halls seemed to shimmer in the shadows, but no one answered him. Not that he had expected an answer, and besides, he didn’t believe in ghosts.
Still, the room felt heavy and full. He did not feel alone.
Vengeance belongs to God, not you…you do this only for yourself!
“Christ,” Devlin gritted. He drank some more, and now his stomach burned from the excessive consumption of liquor. Images of Virginia taunted him, standing on the deck of theAmericana,the wind whipping her hair, aiming that silly pistol at him. Her face changed, smiling brightly, her eyes sparkling as they had at supper, enchanting his brother with her humor, her wit, her conversation, and then there was Sean, dark and angry, claiming to be falling in love.
You will have to destroy her…how can you live with yourself? How?
Devlin stalked about the great room, wondering if, on this cold and windless night, his conscience had decided, finally, to make an appearance in his life. The hall had been furnished with blood money. Elegantly appointed, it was a testament to the hundreds of ships he had attacked, seized and destroyed at sea, the thousands of crew taken prisoner, the hundreds left behind, dead and buried by the sea. His home was as elegant as any lord admiral’s, as fine as Adare’s. His next intention was to begin reconstruction of the old keep in ruins behind the manor house. Once, family myth had it, a great pirate ancestor of his had lived there and loved a most extraordinary woman, the daughter of the infamous traitor, Gerald FitzGerald, the one-time Earl of Desmond.
Now he had the funds—his last prize, loaded with bullion, had made him a very rich man.
Enough! Give up.
Devlin stiffened as if shot. He could have sworn he’d just heard his father’s stern, angry voice echoing in the room. He slowly looked around the huge hall, almost expecting to see someone materializing in the shadows, but the room was still and silent. Through one tall glass window, he saw stars and the night. He was alone. His imagination was playing tricks upon him—either that, or he did have a damned conscience after all.
But the odd feeling of not being alone at all remained.
Give up.
Devlin flinched. Was he actually hearing a voice, or was it his drunken imagination and nothing more? Still, the advice was good. Prowling his home in the wee hours of the coming dawn was as useless as sailing into the wind. He started for the stairs. The sensation remained however, dark and disturbing—the sensation of being watched.
He refused to look back.
And his last waking thought before drifting to sleep as dawn broke over the Irish countryside was that he would never give up, not ever, not until Eastleigh was dead.
CHAPTER TEN
VIRGINIA REALIZED THATshe was starving. She gave the little, very fancy, bay mare another pat, then stepped out of the stall and left the stables. It was a beautiful morning, the sky a brilliant deep shade of blue, cloudless, the sun bright and burning, threatening to make the day extremely hot. In the end last night, she had been exhausted, and the moment she had crawled into bed, she had fallen deeply asleep. But old habits died hard and she had been up at dawn, walking the grounds and exploring the ruins of the old castle behind the house. Devlin’s home was lovely, and the ruins had intrigued her. There was something poignant and romantic about them.
Now she started across the lawns toward the manor, aware of a new tremor within her. She had seen Devlin once, briefly, galloping his gray across a distant hill, apparently out for an early morning ride. Astride a horse, he made the same irresistible figure that he did on the quarterdeck of his ship. He remained an enigma, simply impossible to understand. Had he accused her of somehow being too friendly with Sean? Everything had happened so very quickly in the study when she had dared to ask him to stroll with her in the moonlight. He had been very angry with her, but why? Sean was a nice man and Virginia genuinely liked him. She had enjoyed dining with him. She hoped he would one day visit her at Sweet Briar. But not only hadn’t Devlin joined in their conversation, he had seemed to think that she had a romantic interest in Sean. That was absurd! How could he think that, given the intimacy they had shared?
But he had ordered her to stay away from her brother. There was one other possibility. Perhaps he was afraid that she would entice Sean into helping her escape the way she had Jack Harvey.
Virginia’s steps dragged so she might have a bit more time to think. It was impossible not to recalleverythingthat had happened last night. Her cheeks began a slow burn. When he had held her in his arms, when he had begun to kiss her, when she had felt his huge arousal, all of her sanity had vanished, exactly as it had the other night on the ship. She hadn’t imagined her passionate reaction to being in his arms, oh no. The fever and the frenzy he evoked in her was very real and simply stunning. And in a way, it was frightening, too.
Because when he held her, she was not herself. When he held her, she turned into a creature of desire and little else. In fact, when she was in his arms being kissed and aroused, nothing else mattered.
Fortunately it was midmorning now and Virginia was no longer insane with that terrible lust. Her body was definitely changing in response to thinking about the encounter, but at least she was capable of rational thought. Why did he have such an effect upon her?
He was impossibly mesmerizing, impossibly handsome in a terrible, powerful way, but she was his prisoner, not his guest. Devlin stood between her and Sweet Briar and she was starting to forget that, as if she had all the time in the world to play out this interlude in captivity before rescuing the plantation. She needed to be stronger, firmer, more resolved—time was not on her side.
Still, he wasn’t a pirate or a madman. He hadn’t hurt her, not a single time, and he was clearly trying to respect her. The world worshipped him for being a heroic naval captain. Hewasheroic—he was the very stuff that heroes were made from. But he had broken the law by abducting her—not to mention that he had so arrogantly stepped all over theAmericana,which had every right to ply its trade. He had committed at least those two crimes, and her spinning thoughts always returned to this final point. TheAmericanalay wrecked upon the bottom of the sea, she was his prisoner and she had no right to yearn for his embrace.
And she still had no idea why he really wished to ransom her.
It was probably fortunate that he had decided to end their interlude last night as if he had just discovered she was a leper. His hasty exit was almost comical in the light of this morning, and she did smile, recalling it. But it hadn’t been amusing last night. Last night she had been desperate and crushed and more confused than ever.
Virginia entered the house, becoming grim. She needed to know why. She needed to know why he risked his career for a ransom he did not need. And in spite of the fact that she was actually enjoying being at Askeaton, that she wasn’t in a rush to leave, she had to get to the Earl of Eastleigh. If she wanted a home to return to, she must stay focused and resolved and disregard the passionate attraction they seemed to share.
Virginia walked through the hall, wondering if Devlin had returned from his ride. She had seen Sean riding out some time ago, after Devlin but separately and at a more sedate pace. She felt certain he was beginning his day’s work. Virginia glanced into the dining room and found only one place set. She sighed, caught up between disappointment and relief.
Virginia raided the breadbasket, giving in to hunger. With one blueberry scone in hand, she began eating a slice of raisin bread, fresh and warm from the oven, as she started upstairs. She decided to give up thinking about Devlin O’Neill. What she would do instead was change into the riding britches she had brought with her from home and take a long ride across the O’Neill lands.
Virginia finished the bread and was beginning on the scone as she entered her bedroom. Fiona was humming away as she made the bed, having opened all of the windows to let in the warm spring day. Virginia ignored her, going to the closet for her valise. “Good morning,” Fiona said with abundant cheer.
Every fiber of her being tensed. Alarm began—what was this? Slowly, britches in hand, her riding boots on the floor, Virginia turned.
