Fiona beamed at her. “I brought you roses from the garden,” she said, pointing to the pink roses in a vase beside her bed.
The alarm began to change, turning into dread. Virginia inhaled, wondering if Sean or Devlin had set her down for her delinquent manner yesterday. “Thank you,” she said carefully. “Would you help me out of my dress?”
“Of course!” Fiona practically ran across the room, and Virginia glimpsed her beatific expression just before she turned. As the other woman undid the buttons and helped her out of the gown, she said, “You are inordinately happy today.”
Fiona laughed. “It’s a fine day, is it not?”
Virginia had a sick feeling. She stepped into the boys’ britches, then pulled on the high, worn riding boots. A simple cotton shirt followed, which she vaguely tucked in. “Have you received some good news?” she asked, lacing up her boots.
Fiona laughed again. “I think I am in love,” she confided happily.
Virginia jerked up, staring, appalled. “In…love?”
Fiona nodded eagerly, clasping her hands together. “It was everything I dreamed it would be. He was everything I dreamed he would be, I mean! Oh, God, it was glorious, what a man, so strong, so tireless…” She finally faltered, her cheeks splotched feverishly, a similar glaze in her eyes.
“You…you and Devlin?” Virginia managed, the contents of her stomach seriously roiling now.
“Yes,” Fiona cried. “He made love to me all night, that man can hold it like a stud! I have never, ever been with a man like that, and I do not know how I will ever wait until tonight!”
Devlin had taken Fiona to bed.
Virginia sat on the edge of the chair, beyond ill, in stupefaction.
“He’s so big,” Fiona whispered now. “I can hardly fit him in my hand.”
Last night Devlin had kissed her and held her and then he had gone to Fiona.
Virginia was about to vomit. And the shattering began in her heart. Somehow she smiled as she stood. Somehow she held her breakfast down. “I am happy for you, Fiona. The two of you make a fine pair.”
“We do, don’t we! He’s so golden, I’m so dark, he’s handsome, I’m beautiful,” she cried, clapping her hands together.
Virginia left the room, as fast as her legs could carry her without running. She broke into a run as she reached the stairs, not able to breathe, her heart ripping hideously apart. Instantly her slick booted soles slid on the polished wood and she fell hard, tumbling down half of the steps.
On the bottom she paused on her hands and knees, panting harshly, beyond shock. Then she somehow got up, ran out the front door, and there she threw up on the closest rose bush.
When she was done, she crawled around the side of the house and sat there, shaking. Images of Devlin straining over Fiona taunted her, mocked her, throwing pound after pound of salt in her wounds. It was some time before she could take control of her raw emotions, and it was only then that the horrific images began to infuriate her.
Oh, how they deserved each other!
She was a whore—he was a whoremonger!
She didn’t care—she had her maidenhead intact, thank God—no, thank Fiona!
Virginia hated them both.
How could he go to Fiona after being with her? How?
Virginia somehow stood, her knees oddly weak, brushing dirt off of her beige britches. This was for the best. Soon she would leave Askeaton and Ireland, soon she would return to Sweet Briar and never, ever have to see Devlin O’Neill again.
How, how, how?
“She’s beautiful and I’m ugly, that’s how!” Virginia raged. She stormed past the house and down to the stables, where the bay mare recognized her and whinnied. Virginia found a saddle that looked a bit smaller than the others, grabbed a bridle and blanket and quickly saddled the little mare up. It began to rain. She held the mare’s reins and stroked her neck as her hands became wet. “You’re so sweet,” she choked. Then she led the mare outside, where the sky was blue, confusing her.
Of course it wasn’t raining. It was only her tears—they simply wouldn’t stop.
Vaguely she wondered if she had somehow fallen in love with the monster that was Devlin O’Neill.
Virginia mounted the mare and gave her a loose rein. A moment later they were galloping away from Askeaton and across the Irish countryside.
