“They are waiting for your words of wisdom,” Sean said seriously.
The room had become silent. Virginia gripped the sill and stared inside, mesmerized.
“I understand your frustrations,” Devlin said slowly, his gaze roaming over the room, making eye contact slowly but surely with everyone there. “But a rebellion will only bring pain and death. My family knows that firsthand.”
There were some grunts of agreement—and there were murmurs of anger as well.
“But what can we do?” someone cried. “I can’t pay my rents, which are triple what they were last year!”
A chorus of agreement sounded.
Sean held up his hands for silence, and instantly the crowd became still. Devlin began to speak, his focus still moving from man to man—and that was when his gaze finally found Virginia.
His eyes widened.
As did hers.
Then she leapt away from the window and back against the wall.Damn it!
And then there was no more time for thought. As she began to sprint away from the house, she heard Sean adjourning the meeting. She ran across the clearing, tripped and fell. As she got up, she looked back.
Devlin was just a few lengths behind her. His expression was one of savage determination. And she realized that a dozen men were streaming out of the house, all angry, and a chorus began—a terribly frightening chorus.
“A spy! It’s a spy!An English spy!”
Virginia bolted. In terror, she took another step when he leapt upon her from behind. The force of his tackle took them both instantly to the ground.
As she went down he twisted sideways and she landed in his arms instead of on the hard ground, where she would have surely broken a bone. A moment later she was on her back, however, and he was on top of her. “You followed me here?” he demanded, and she saw rage in his eyes.
And for the first time since he had captured theAmericana,she felt real fear. “No! I was out riding—I saw your horse—I thought there was a party!” she cried.
“You little fool!” he gritted.
Virginia looked past his angry silver eyes. They were surrounded now by the angry mob of men, some of them holding muskets, others with pikes. Each and every man present looked as if he wanted to use his weapon on her. Sean stepped through the circle. “It’s all right, boyos,” he said lightly, smiling. “This is just a little misunderstanding.”
Virginia’s fear knew no bounds. She knew what she had witnessed and what she had heard. These men wanted to rise up against the English government and throw it out of Ireland. That was treason. She also knew what she had just seen in their expressions. She had seen far worse than anger—she had seen fear.
They were angry and desperate and they were afraid of what she knew.
“He’s a spy!” someone shouted.
A rumble of affirmations sounded.
Virginia looked into Devlin’s eyes, trying not to panic. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her, would he?
He gave her a very angry look. Then he stood, hauling her to her feet.
“It’s a wench,” someone cried.
“Damned spy’s a woman,” someone else agreed.
“Miss Hughes is our guest and she is not a spy,” Sean said, moving to stand protectively beside Virginia and Devlin.
Virginia nodded, wetting her lips, which felt parched and cracked. She stared into a sea of hostile, suspicious faces and saw their hatred. “I’m not a spy,” she tried. “I saw Devlin’s horse and—”
Devlin jerked on her, hurting her, a command that meant, “Be silent,” and as he did so, someone said loudly, “She’s English! The wench is English!”
Virginia started, although this was not the first time she had come face-to-face with people who had never met an American before and therefore assumed her unfamiliar accent to be British.
