“They both seemed shocked when they learned I am Eastleigh’s niece.” Virginia said.
Sean shrugged.
“I have asked you a dozen times. Why? Why is Devlin doing this? He doesn’t need the money. And you refuse to answer. So now I ask, why is Lady de Warenne so upset? Why did the name Eastleigh almost cause her to faint? Is this aboutEastleigh?” she cried.
“Yes.”
Virginia started. “I don’t understand.”
“Eastleigh was not always an earl. Harold Hughes was actually the middle son of the late earl. He was a captain in the army, a common-enough calling for the second son.” Sean was terse.
She still had not a clue as to what this meant. “What does any of this have to do with me—and with your brother?”
Sean grimaced. “He served in Ireland, Virginia. He was the man who murdered our father when we were boys.”
Virginia cried out, reeling. Sean steadied her. She clung to his arms. “This is about your father’s death?”
“This is about my brother’s obsession with it, yes.”
And it struck her then. “My God, this is not about ransom, this is about revenge!”
He nodded.
And the enormity of it, the absolute irony, became instantly clear. She laughed. She laughed wildly, for Devlin was a fool, oh yes!
“Virginia, you are becoming hysterical,” Sean said cautiously, trying to lead her to the sofa.
“I think not!” she cried, allowing herself to be led. “Your brother is a fool, because Eastleigh doesn’t give a damn about me and he could not care less that I am someone’s hostage!”
Sean pushed her to sit, then walked away.
Virginia continued to chuckle, for now she was the one with the last laugh. Devlin’s absurd scheme had certainly backfired. Sean returned, looking very worried, handing her a snifter. Virginia shoved it away. “Don’t you see? There is no revenge. If Devlin wants to hurt Eastleigh, he can not do so with me.”
Sean sat down beside her, taking both of her small hands in his own large, strong ones.
Virginia thought of Devlin’s hands—both men were so alike physically—and she tensed. Slowly she met his gaze.
“No. Devlin has been methodically destroying Eastleigh for years. The man has been reduced to a single estate with very little income. He can’t afford this ransom, and when he pays it, he will have to sell off all that he has left. He will be finished, Virginia, and my brother will have won.”
She stared, stunned, dismayed, and then, aware of him holding her hands, she pulled them away. “And he will have to pay?”
“It will become a matter of honor.”
“What kind of man destroys an innocent woman in order to avenge his father?” she asked numbly.
“My brother,” Sean said. He took her hand again, but only one, clasping it firmly. “He hasn’t destroyed you. You’re not with child.” He kept his voice low. “He won’t touch you that way again, I promise. Very soon, this will be over. One day, it will be a vague memory.”
Virginia stared, but she did not see Sean, she saw Devlin instead, and now she began to understand how his eyes could be so cold, how he could lack any kindness, any mercy. He was no ordinary man. He was obsessed with revenge, and apparently, no means was too obnoxious to gain his end. “And what of his career? Surely he will be court-martialed for abducting me.”
Sean hesitated. “Eastleigh has already been made a fool by Devlin, many times. He is too proud to go to the authorities, Virginia.”
Virginia became still. It struck her then that she had the power to be the means of Devlin O’Neill’s downfall. And Sean stared back—clearly, he knew it also.
Suddenly Mary and the earl had stepped into the room, Mary no longer crying. Both were terribly grave. As they looked at her, she slid her hand from Sean’s and slowly stood.
Mary managed a smile. “Please, child, come outside and sit with me. It’s such a pleasant evening.”
Virginia wished she could be saved, as she had little doubt that Mary wished to speak far too intimately with her. She glanced at Sean pleadingly but he shrugged. Having no choice, she walked out to the terrace with Mary. The other woman paused beside the balustrade and faced her.
