“Actually, yes, I did.”
“Have you no heart at all?” she whispered.
“I think we both know the answer to that.”
“Then can you not show me any sign of compassion?”
“I hardly know what it is that you wish of me, Virginia. I’m sorry you have been so long in my brother’s care, but the war delayed my return,” he said levelly.
She reeled. He didn’t remember, did he? Was it possible that she was so insignificant, so unmemorable?
“What were you and Sean doing?” he asked casually.
“I…what?” She blinked hard. “We were making corn pudding. I mean, we…I was going to show the cook how to make a recipe.”
A tawny brow lifted and he said nothing.
Virginia didn’t move. Was it possible, she wondered in dismay, to still have some feelings for this man? She hadn’t seen him in five months. He had callously left her after the most significant moment of her life. He had given her no sign of warmth, no personal greeting, since he had arrived. But she could feel a desperate tension in herself and she knew, miserably, what it meant.
It meant she wanted him to tell her that he cared, that he remembered every moment of their lovemaking—as she did—and that he wished to beg her for forgiveness.
“Corn pudding,” he murmured. “How interesting.”
She stiffened defensively and held her head high. But he wasn’t going to say anything about their past. She now knew it. “It happens to be delicious. If you’re planning on staying for supper, you will certainly enjoy it.” How hard it was to keep her voice even, to keep her pride gathered about her.
Now both brows lifted. He seemed amused and mildly incredulous. “This is my home. I had intended to dine before leaving tomorrow.”
Her heart slammed to a wild halt.“You…you’re leaving…tomorrow?”
“We’re leaving tomorrow,” he said, and finally his gray gaze moved over her, from her eyes to her mouth, lingering briefly, across the white cotton shirt covering her chest, past the thick brown belt, knotted and not buckled, and down the britches encasing her slim thighs. “I’m truly surprised Sean lets you run about like that.”
If he felt any attraction, there was simply no sign, not in his tone of voice, not in his expression, and most important, not in his eyes. They were flat and opaque, lifeless.
“We’re leaving tomorrow?” she gasped.
“Yes.” He finally turned and walked over to the wide, tall windows where he stood, his back to her, gazing out, apparently at the sweep of lawns and the distant hills. “Eastleigh doubts your existence.”
She was reeling. “What?”
He didn’t turn. He continued to stare out of the window, and no inflection was in his tone as he spoke. “I sent the ransom note from Cadiz. Eastleigh claims you drowned with everyone else aboard theAmericana.We are going to Southampton to prove once and for all that you are very much alive.”
So the time for her ransom had finally come. Virginia was so overwhelmed with hurt and confusion that she could not deal with that matter, even though it meant she would be that much closer to going home. And oddly, in some ways, Askeaton had become her home. She had enjoyed the slow days spent farming and tending to the estate. She had enjoyed the cool days, the mist, the rain. She had enjoyed Sean’s company.
But it wasn’t her home. Sweet Briar was her home and there was still a chance that it hadn’t been sold, which meant that maybe she could find a way to save it. She no longer hoped for her uncle to save the day.
And clearly, Devlin’s plans, although delayed by the war, hadn’t changed. She did not know what to say—because the ransom was not what she wished to discuss. “Will Sean come with us?” she finally asked miserably.
“Do you want him to?”
Was there something odd in his tone? “Of course I do,” she said, searching his gaze, but he turned away.
“I need him here,” Devlin said. “Be ready right after breakfast.” He walked out.
In shock, she stared after him. And then the enormity of what had happened hit her.He had come back and had not said a single word about them.And with that comprehension came anger.
Virginia strode after him.
She found him pouring a Scotch in the salon. Not looking up, he held up an empty glass. “Would you care for a drink?” he said lightly.
