The Prize (66 page)

Cliff was grim.
"Of course I agree with you. I agree that

Devlin must end his
obsession—but I am doubtful that he can."

"He can't,"
she whispered, fighting her tears. "He has made that clear. And he is gone
now, gone to war against my country, maybe even against my home. I am not
staying here, Cliff. If you do not help me, I will find another way, another
ship. I am going home to have my child, and if the war dares come near Sweet
Briar, I will defend my land, even if I must defend it against Devlin. I have
no choice now."

Cliff stared, his
eyes wide and thoughtful. It was a long moment before he spoke. And when he
did, he sighed. "I know you will do exactly as you have said. I would
rather escort you safely to Sweet Briar than see you on some ship that founders
or is attacked. I was setting sail next week for
Martinique
—I have acquired a sugar plantation there. I
will take you home first."

She cried out in
abject relief.

"But I will not
keep this a secret," he warned.

She began to protest.

"No!" His
blue eyes flashed. "You are my brother's wife. He has every right to know
where you are—especially as you are with child. I will take you to Sweet Briar,
Virginia, but I will also tell Devlin what I have done."

Virginia
knew better than to argue. At
least she would be escorted safely to her home. She took his large, rough hands
in her own. "Thank you, Cliff. Thank you."

He was grim.

It was now the middle
of May. The transatlantic crossing had been a slow and difficult one, with
several storms and disadvantageous winds slowing Cliff's schooner down. It had
also been a dangerous journey. Cliff, who captained the ship, had ordered a
twenty-four-hour lookout for any warships, friend or foe. Twice they had
evaded American ships;

once, the
Amelie
had
even flown the Stars and Stripes in order to provide cover when a pursuit had
begun. Cliff had given her his cabin, a luxuriously appointed affair, but otherwise,
he had kept his distance, at once formal and polite. That had been fine with
Virginia
. Her spirits were bleak and she
had not wanted anyone to confide in. All in all, the journey had been long and
dismal and she was relieved to see its end.

Virginia
had one arm around Arthur, who
shared the back seat of the open carriage she had hired in
Norfolk
. With her other hand, she held on to the
carriage door as they bounced down the rutted driveway, her home rising in real
glory before her. She almost expected to see her mother running out of the
front door, waving madly at her and crying with joy; she almost imagined her
father on horseback, riding in from one of the fields. She smiled tearfully,
for the house remained such a splendid sight, tall and stately and oh, so
welcoming. She had come home after all this time, and her smile was her first
since leaving
Britain
, Somehow, she would bear Devlin's
child alone and everything would be all right.

She smiled still,
even though more tears fell. To even think of Devlin brought crushing
heartache. Instead, she gazed at the fields, which had yet to be planted, as it
was too early in the year. She could see that the soil was in the process of
being burned, which sterilized it before the transplanting of the seedling
plants, and her heart leapt for the first time in a long time. Suddenly she was
eager to walk the fields and inspect them for fungus^ rot and other seedbed
disease. She was as eager to inspect the crop of seedlings, protected by a thin
layer of mulch, so she could calculate the crop they might harvest at the end
of the summer. She did not expect much, not with the plantation having been up
for sale for most of the past year. But Sweet Briar was now debt-free, so she
could borrow money to get them through next winter if she

had to. And there had
been plenty of rain—she could tell by the thickness of the grass on the lawns
and the abundance of the flowering gardens.

Excitement rippled
through her, like the cool, fresh air that came after a hot summer storm.

She inhaled deeply
then. The salty-sweet, thick
Virginia
air was like an elixir; her
stomach, long since settled, growled with hunger for the first time in months.

A thin, tall,
familiar figure appeared on the porch.
Virginia
really smiled and she waved at Tillie as
the carriage halted in front of the house.
She could do this. Before, she
had secretly doubted her strength, but now she knew Sweet Briar would save
both her and the baby.

"Do come in for
a meal before you drive all the way back to
Norfolk
, Ned,"
Virginia
told the driver, a man she had known most
of her life.

"Thank you
kindly, Miss Virginia—I mean, Mrs. O'Neill," he said, tipping his felt hat
at her.

"Down,
Arthur," she said softly, and the big dog bounded to the ground, wagging
his tail enthusiastically.

Tillie had not moved.
She appeared immobilized as she stared toward
Virginia
in shock.

Virginia
climbed down.
"Tillie!" And the seed of happiness began to take root.

Tillie screamed.
"
Virginia
!
Virginia
, it's you!" Skirts lifted, she flew
down the porch steps.
Virginia
ran to meet her and they
embraced halfway.

"I haven't heard
from you since I got your letter in February," Tillie cried, pulling away
and clasping
Virginia
's face.
Virginia
had written her about her marriage and
Devlin's wedding gift of the plantation. "You didn't tell me you were
coming home—why didn't you tell me you were coming home? And why are you as
white as a ghost—and so skinny?"

Virginia
hugged her again. "There
was no time to write since then," she whispered.

"And you're
alone? I mean, other than that dog?" Tillie put her arm around her. She
stiffened in surprise, for
Virginia
's cloak had hidden the
protrusion of her tummy. "You with child? Honey, you got pregnant so
soon?"

Virginia
nodded, suddenly incapable of
speech. Their gazes locked.

Tillie stared and her
brows lifted in confusion. "What's wrong?"

Virginia
swallowed hard. "My
marriage is over, Tillie, and I am here to stay."

Virginia
busied herself with running
Sweet Briar, never mind that Tillie scolded her to no end for doing so in her
condition. The seedlings were transplanted the last week of May, and it looked
as if they had enough plants for an abundant crop. Far to the north in
Canada
, the British fort of
York
had fallen to the American troops, and as
word of the hugely significant victory traveled about the countryside, her
neighbors rejoiced. Still, the toll had been huge, due to an explosion of the
garrison's magazine. One county newspaper claimed that more than three hundred
Americans were killed in the explosion, twice as many losses as the British had
in their defeat.

Virginia
did not want to hear about the
war, but it was impossible to avoid now that she was home. There was constant
lighting in the
Canadian
Territory
. Even more distressing, four Sweet Briar
slaves had run away, as had dozens in the rest of the county. Rumor had it they
were encouraged by the redcoats, and that they were even fighting for them.
There were also terrible shortages of the most basic foodstuffs-sugar was
exorbitantly priced at more than $20 a hundredweight in Richmond and
Baltimore, almost triple what it had

                              535

once been. Flour had
risen to $4.50 a barrel in
Richmond
, and
Virginia
heard it was five times that in
New York
. Everywhere she went, the
hottest topic was the cost of essential food items that no one could now
afford. There was no sugar at Sweet Briar and Tillie's jams were sour.

Toward the end of
May,
Virginia
began to feel unwell. It was
just a slight lightness in her head and some difficulty breathing, but it was
enough to make her feel faint. She worried that she might actually black out
if she did not rest. Tillie scolded her endlessly and refused to let her out of
the house.
Virginia
complied, afraid she knew the
real reason for her sudden illness. The day before, at church, she had heard
that the
Defiance
was hovering off the coast of
Maryland
with another British frigate,
the
Honor,
hoping to do battle with any American warship brave enough
to come out of the
Chesapeake
Bay
.

Virginia
had done her best to make it
appear that she had forgotten about Devlin and her failed marriage. In the
month since her return home, she was careful to never mention him, not even to
Tillie. But the truth was that she thought about him every day, fear for his
safety warring with the grief that had claimed her soul. And the worst part of
it was that it was so painfully clear they were on opposite sides of the same
war.

It was a warm and
humid day.
Virginia
had asked her foreman,
MacGregor, to meet her in the study so they could go over the plantation's
ledgers. Arthur was sleeping on the floor near her desk, panting heavily, and
Virginia
was fanning herself and
standing by the window when she saw Frank riding up to the house at a frantic
pace.

She was seized with
dread. She ran outside, where it was even hotter and more muggy. Perspiration
made her face shine and her skin sticky. "Frank?"

His expression taut,
he dismounted and hurried up the porch. "Miz
Virginia
?"

"What is it?
What has happened?"

He hesitated.

And somehow she knew.
Her heart lurched with a sickening fear. "It's Devlin, isn't it?"
There were no secrets at Sweet Briar.

"He gone an'
sent the
Honor
away. But it was a trap, Miz
Virginia
. The
Independence
sailed out, thinking she could get by him,
but she couldn't. He sailed right up to us an' started firing when the two
ships were about to collide. Our troops done lost control of the
Independence
and the redcoats boarded her—all in fifteen
minutes."

Virginia
clung to Frank's arm. Devlin had
seized one of the American navy's greatest battleships. "Did he destroy
her?" she managed numbly. Her head felt light again and her heart raced so
swiftly that she could not breathe.

Frank shook his head.
"He's sailin' her north, maybe to
Halifax
, as a prize."

She nodded, still
feeling ill enough to faint, hanging on to Frank's solid arm.
Devlin had
been so close by. And damn it, she missed him so terribly that she ached for
him, night and day, even as he fought and destroyed her own people.
She
must work harder, she decided abruptly, for that was the only way to keep her
mind from such treacherous thoughts, the only way to keep her heart whole and
beating. "Of course—how foolish of me." She wet her lips and tried to
slow down her breathing, to no avail. "How many died?"

"I heard half
the crew, maybe a hundred sailors."

Virginia
made a sound.

"Ma'am? It's worse.
There's all kinds of talk in town, talk of an invasion."

Alarm stiffened her
spine. "An invasion here?"

"They say them
Brits will invade
Norfolk
real soon—and we be too close to
town, Miz Virginia, if you ask me."

Virginia
turned toward the house, her
heart beating so quickly now that she was becoming alarmed. She rubbed her
chest. Sweat beaded on her brow. "I need some lemonade. Would you like
some, Frank?" Would the troops come this way, burning and looting as they
had done farther south and farther north? Would Devlin participate in the
invasion? Were Sweet Briar and her people in danger? They had put together a
small arsenal, in case they ever needed to defend the plantation. But
Virginia
prayed it would not come to
that, for she knew they could not win an engagement with any British troops.

"Miz
Virginia
, I don't like the idea of us
bein' so close to
Norfolk
!" He was afraid and it
showed.

She must be calm and
strong now, for the sake of Frank and all the people at Sweet Briar who relied
upon her. Instead of going into the house for a cool drink,
Virginia
sat down in a wood rocking chair
on the porch and vainly tried to fan herself. "Frank, we're eight miles
from the city. Even if they are dastardly enough to invade our small town, we
will be safe where we are—our militia and the army will never let them get this
far." But it was a lie. The army would have their hands full with an
invasion and
Virginia
knew many who served in the
militia by name—they were young boys and old men.