The Prize (67 page)

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Authors: Brenda Joyce

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Romance

BOOK: The Prize
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Virginia
knew that she could not let
Frank see her fear. So she smiled at him. "Could you get me a glass of
Tillie's lemonade?"

He hesitated, then
finally his expression relaxed. He nodded, tipped his cap and walked into the
house.

Her smile vanished.
Virginia
gripped the arms of her wood
rocker, staring out at her beloved fields. It had been bad enough hearing the
war news from her frightened neighbors for the past two months and suffering
distinct shortages because of the blockade, but still, somehow the war had
seemed

distant. Now, with
the news of Devlin's triumph just off the coast and the rumor of an imminent
invasion, the war had become a very real and close threat.

She closed her eyes
and was struck instantly with the strongest feeling that she would see Devlin
again—soon.

Virginia
never slept soundly. In fact,
sleep had become the enemy, for her dreams were filled with pain and heartache.
She was always in Devlin's arms, happy and well loved, only to have him turn
coldly upon her and walk away. Sometimes she would chase after him as he left,
begging him to stay. At other times, he had their child in his arms and she
could not even get her voice to work to scream at him to give her baby back.

She awoke now from
just such a horrible nightmare, her body covered with sweat, her heart beating
frantically. As
Virginia
sat up in the shadowy bedroom,
panting and sobbing, she told herself it was just a dream. She touched her
belly to reassure herself; their child was still there, inside her tummy. She
lay back down, holding her belly, waiting for her breathing to return to
normal, for her pounding heart to subside. It was a very hot and cloying
night, and although her windows were open, there was no breeze.

Arthur, who slept on
the bed at her feet, suddenly jumped to the floor, growling.

Virginia
wiped her forehead with an edge
of her sleeveless nightgown, alarmed.

The dog ran to the
window, putting both paws on the sill, and growled menacingly again.

Virginia
stiffened, now filled with fear.
He had become a fine watchdog, but at this hour, no one should be about. She
quickly lit a candle and hurried to stand with him at the window. She stared
into the night, but it was black and still. Arthur growled long and low once
more.

And then
Virginia
heard the riders approaching.

Fear consumed her.

Arthur barked.

"Quiet,"
she cried, and as she stared out into the night she saw a flickering
torchlight.

Talk of invasion
remained...but the British invaded by day, not by night.

Still, no one roamed
about the countryside at night. It was far too dangerous.

Virginia
returned to her bed and took a
pistol from under the pillow. Her hands were shaking badly and it took her a
moment to load it. In the hall she met Tillie and Frank as they came upstairs,
and Frank carried a hunting rifle. Both were wide-eyed. "Riders
coming," Tillie whispered.

"I know, I
saw,"
Virginia
whispered back. "Do you
know how many there are?"

"I seen four or
five," Frank said, low.

For one moment,
standing there on the landing at the top of the stairs, they all stared at one
another in the gloom, trying to decide what to do.

And they heard a
number of horses halting in front of the house.

Virginia
flinched, facing Tillie, when
someone began knocking on the front door.

"Maybe we should
hide?" Tillie whispered.

But
Virginia
almost swooned with relief.
"The British do not knock," she said. "I'll go answer it."

Tillie seized her.
"And honest folk don't come out at this hour!"

She was right.
"Stay behind me in the shadows. Frank, don't hesitate to use that rifle if
it sounds like our visitors have a nasty business in mind."

Whoever had come
calling at the
midnight
hour was pounding again on the
door.
Virginia
went slowly down-

540                          

stairs, filled with
trepidation, followed by both slaves. At her side, Arthur growled, his hackles
up.

Virginia
hurried to the door, her heart
slamming with alarm and fear. "One moment," she said, putting the
candle down. The baby chose that moment to deliver his first kick, a solid and
strange blow, and she hesitated, stunned. But she had no moment to dwell on
this strange miracle, as the person outside banged again, three times. Keeping
the pistol in the folds of her nightgown, her finger found the trigger. She
opened the door a crack.

A man stood there and
even in the darkness, she knew. She was paralyzed. Arthur was not. He rushed
forward, wagging his tail with excitement, his entire body writhing with happiness.

"Get down,"
Devlin said, pushing inside, as the dog leapt up on him. He closed the door
behind him.

The dog sat, his tail
thumping on the floor, grinning at him.

Virginia
began to shake. In spite of
everything, Devlin's cold, gray eyes were the best thing she had ever seen.
"Do you always open the door for strangers?" he said.

She wet her lips,
briefly incapable of speech. She whispered, "Enemy soldiers do not
knock."

He inclined his head,
accepting her statement, and his gaze slid over her belly.

She wanted to seize
his hand and place it on their child, but she did not. Too well, she suddenly
recalled the last time he had touched her that way.

"How are you,
madam?" he asked softly.

Virginia
realized that she was trembling
wildly. Why had he come? Had he risked his life merely to see her? "We are
fine, the child and I," she managed. She was so stunned she could barely
think straight, but there was a seed of hope flaring within her now.

He studied every inch
of her face. "Cliff told me you were

here. I almost killed
him for what he did—until I realized that you would have found another ship on
which to come. Instead, I had to thank him for keeping you and the child safe.
This is madness,
Virginia
."

She had wrapped her
arms around herself, because what she really wanted to do was to wrap her arms
around him. "I was born here, Devlin. Our child will be born here,
too."

He was not pleased.
"The war is close. I've risked the lives of four good men to call at this
hour," he said swiftly now. "I have come to tell you to stay at Sweet
Briar for the next week. And I mean it,
Virginia
. Do not leave this plantation," he
warned.

Something terrible
was about to happen and he knew what that was. "Why?"

"I am afraid I
cannot tell you why, but Sweet Briar will be spared."

She bit her lip hard,
causing it to bleed. "And why..." It was so hard to speak. "And
why would my home be spared?"

"Because I have
demanded that it be spared," he ground out.

She nodded, having
expected him to say that, pleased. But her fear was greater than any pleasure
now. "Is it
Norfolk
? Will they invade the
town?"

"You know I
cannot give you any details."

She nodded, briefly
closing her eyes.
Could he not take her in his arms, just this single time?
"One
week?"

"Maybe more. It
will depend on factors I cannot control." He watched her closely.
"You will know when it is safe to leave the plantation."

She leaned heavily
against the wall. She felt certain an invasion of
Norfolk
was imminent. She must warn the town.
Despair crashed over her. If only the damned war would end. Maybe then they
would have a chance—but even so, the subject of his revenge still stood in their
way.

He hesitated. "
Virginia
, I want your promise, your word
that you will obey me this one single time. Your life and the child's may
depend on it."

She knew he was about
to leave. Her despair grew. "Yes... Devlin?"

He was grim. "We
must go."

"Do you wish to
rest...here?" She wet her lips, wishing he would stay.

"I cannot. The
county is crawling with scouts."

She nodded, seized
with anguish.

"I have to
go," he repeated harshly, their eyes colliding. His expression was filled
with anguish, too, or at least she thought so. He quickly looked away as if to
compose himself, before facing her one more time. "I have one question
for you."

She wanted to beg him
yet again not to leave her, for her nightmare was now coming true. But she did
no such thing. The sane part of her knew he must leave, and swiftly, for if he
and his men were captured they would all be imprisoned, or worse. She inhaled.
"Please."

"Have you
left me ? "

She stared, stunned.
Of course she had, though not by choice. Everything had changed since she had
arrived on American soil—and nothing had changed, nothing at all.
Virginia
did not hesitate. She did not
have to think about her answer; her heart answered for her. "No."

His expression
tightened. And before she knew it, he swept her into his arms, hard, and up
against his chest, his mouth seizing hers.

Virginia
cried out as their mouths fused.
In his powerful embrace, she felt safe—and she knew then that he loved her.
Frantically they kissed, again and again, the war outside a burning fuse set to
explode at any moment.

He pulled away,
nodded at her, and went out the door.

For one moment, she
did not move, stunned and tearful. Then she ran after him but paused on the
porch, clinging to the rail, as he strode to his mount. "Stay safe,
Devlin," she said thickly as he swung up into the saddle.

His stead pranced,
sensing a gallop at hand. Devlin controlled the beast, turning it to face her.
He nodded at her. "Do as you have promised," he said.

"I
promise," she breathed.

He stared for one
more moment, and then he wheeled the bay and galloped off, his men flying with
him. She was vaguely aware of Tillie coming to stand beside her, putting her
arm around her. They stood there for a long time, staring blindly out into the
night after Devlin and his men.

 

 

Chapter 28

 

The attack on
Norfolk
quickly failed. Although the British began
an attack both by land and by sea, apparently with heavy reinforcements, a huge
summer storm prevented the landing of half of their marines and those that
succeeded were decimated by the heavy artillery fire of the American regulars.
Within two hours, the British forces withdrew.

The news of the
American victory rapidly swept through the county and reached Sweet Briar by
the end of the day. Once again,
Virginia
was not quite well. She sat in the kitchen as Tillie prepared a light supper of
fried greens, ham and eggs, fanning herself. It was a very warm day, but that
was not why she could not seem to breathe properly and she knew it. She was
also light-headed, enough so that she saw dancing lights in the room and her
heart raced and pounded uncomfortably. When Frank came in, beaming, to impart
the news of their triumph, she could not breathe at all.

As he began to speak—
"Turned tail and ran, cowards, all of 'em" —her world grayed and
began undulating and she began to fall.

                             
545

"Frank, help
her," Tillie screamed.

Virginia
fought the blackness and she
fought for air. Images of Devlin as she had last seen him assailed her as she
clawed someone's arms. Her last thought was she needed her husband, and then
the blackness came.

She awoke slowly in
her bed, stripped down to her chemise and drawers, with an ice compress on her
throbbing head. Tillie sat beside her, her eyes huge with fear.
Virginia
tested her lungs and found she
could breathe normally and she inhaled hard. Relief assailed her. Then she
smiled. "Tillie. The baby. He kicked again." It was true. Just before
she had passed out, she had felt her child kick.

Tillie did not smile.
"You need to see a doctor. You swooned and hit your head on the floor! I
sent Frank to go get Doc Barnes." Her tone meant she would tolerate only
compliance.

Virginia
closed her eyes. These attacks
where she felt faint, her heart beating so hard that it hurt her, were becoming
more and more frequent. She was afraid. This time she had fainted and hit her
head—what if this happened yet again? She looked at Tillie. "I agree with
you. I need a doctor. Something is wrong. I'm afraid for the baby,
Tillie."

Tillie stood, looking
ferocious. "I know what is wrong! You need your husband home, that's
what's wrong. He broke your heart and now you're sick because of it! How dare
he treat you so! How can he war against
us?"
she cried.

Virginia
did not know how to respond,
because she had to wonder if Tillie was right. It almost seemed that whenever
she heard word of him or his actions, or some war news that might involve him,
she could not breathe and she felt faint. It was as if her anxiety over where
her husband was and what he was doing was simply too much for her to bear. And
seeing him so briefly last week—being in his arms one more time—made her love
him more than ever. It made their separation hurt more than ever, too.
Virginia
desperately yearned for the
future. Just as desperately, she feared what that day might bring.

But when Doc Barnes
visited the next day, he insisted it was exhaustion combined with her pregnancy
and the strain of the war. "A small woman like you needs a man at home to
run things," he said, snapping closed his satchel. "I heard all about
that husband of yours, fighting for the enemy! No good can come of a divided
marriage, missy. I feel right in telling you that, as I've known you since you
were born."

Still in bed and
feeling somewhat better,
Virginia
smiled at him. "So what do
you suggest?"

"Get your man to
throw down his arms and come home," Barnes challenged. Although close to
sixty, with shocking white hair, he stood as straight as an arrow.

"We are
estranged,"
Virginia
said softly.

"As if I don't
know! Whole county knows! You stay in bed if you don't want to lose that
baby." With that last bit of abrupt advice, he walked out.

Virginia
looked at Tillie. "It's
late June. The baby won't be born until sometime in October. I can't stay in
bed for three or four months!"

"You may have
to, whether you like it or not." Tillie hesitated. "I think we
should tell the captain how ill you are."

Virginia froze. Then
she said, "I'm not ill. And Devlin has enough to worry about."

"He should
know," Tillie said stubbornly.

Very grim, Virginia
patted her bed and Arthur leapt up, sprawling his length down beside her. She
stroked him, seeking comfort. "I want to see another doctor, Tillie.
That's what we should do." Surely she would not have to stay in bed for
months on end. Surely everything was all right.

Tillie sighed.
"You are still as stubborn as a mule."

Virginia watched her
walk out, sinking back against the

pillows, her arm
around Arthur. A part of her desperately wished to do as Tillie wanted, but
Devlin had enough on his mind. Besides, they were separated—and she was proud.
But he had come once to see her. Maybe he would come again.

Hampton was a small,
sleepy town compared to the bustling port and commercial center of Norfolk.
Several days later, Virginia was feeling well enough to make the short trip
there; Frank drove the buggy and Tillie sat in the back seat with her, both of
them dressed in their best day gowns, bonnets and pelisses. Virginia hadn't
had another attack since the other day. And it was a truly pleasant summer day,
warm but not humid. In fact, the sky was a robin's-egg blue, with hardly a
cloud to mar it. "We're an hour early," Virginia commented.

"Better than an
hour late," Tillie said. "Do you want to walk a bit before we go see
Dr. Miles?"

"Why not?"
Virginia smiled a little. Maybe a stroll through the quiet town would help her
to get her mind off of Devlin. His strange midnight visit had given her so much
to think about and so much hope.

They alighted from
the carriage not far from a pawnshop. "Should I wait here?" Frank
asked.

"Why don't you
go get our flour while we walk? Meet us in two hours at Dr. Niles's,"
Virginia said. They had ordered one single sack last week and Tillie'd promised
she'd make a pie.

Frank nodded and
drove the buggy off.

Virginia smiled at
Tillie as they paused before the shop window. Displayed were a gold watch, a
pretty silver locket, two fine cameos and filigreed earrings with topaz stones.
The earrings would be lovely on Tillie. Virginia was about to suggest they step
inside when she heard an explosion.

It was terribly close
by and Virginia instantly tensed with

fear and dread.
Surely this was a blast from someone's furnace or oven, or maybe even the
ordnance belonging to the militia!

"What was
that?" Tillie asked warily, pale beneath her dark complexion.

"I don't
know," Virginia said. In truth, she was afraid it was not an innocent
explosion. Virginia grabbed Tillie's hand and they ran down the block and
around the corner, which afforded them a view of the inlet and, just beyond it,
the Chesapeake Bay.

Her heart stopped.

"Dear God,"
Tillie whispered.

Virginia stared in
horror. Two huge ships had cruised into the inlet and were dangerously close to
the shore. Dozens of rowboats, all loaded with scarlet marines, were being
launched. And as she stared, paralyzed, both ships fired broadsides directly at
the town.

They screamed and
ducked. A house down the block was struck. Windows behind them shattered.

Virginia and Tillie
looked at each other and shrank against the wall of a building. "We're
being attacked," Tillie exclaimed.

Virginia was in
disbelief.

Suddenly a troop of
militia came running toward them from farther down the block. The men wore
their blue-and-gray uniforms, all homemade, and carried muskets, pistols and
the occasional sword. More cannons were fired from the two ships and the first
battery of rowed boats was almost upon the shore. Virginia stared at the
closest frigate. She knew the
Defiance
from any distance, any angle. It
was Devlin.

Tillie leapt up and
ran to the passing militiamen. "What's happening?" she cried, seizing
the arm of one of the men.

Blond, dirty and
blue-eyed, no more than eighteen, he

paused, grim.
"They're attacking the town. It's O'Neill and Cockburn. They must be a
thousand strong and we have only militia to defend the town!" He shook
Tillie off and ran after his regiment.

Virginia came to
stand beside her, faint now with horror and fear. She turned to stare at the
shore as the first line of attacking British marines leapt from their craft.
There was no Virginia militia to greet them. Another broadside sounded; Tillie
and Virginia ducked and ran to the closest building for shelter. Crouching
there, they saw smoke billowing from the northern edge of town, where
apparently a fire or fires had started. More broadsides exploded.

"We have to find
Frank and get home," Tillie said fiercely.

She was right. But
Virginia did not move, thinking about Devlin standing on the quarterdeck of the
Defiance,
commanding his men, ordering them to attack her town, her people,
Tillie and herself.

The baby kicked and
she soothed him with her palm.

But she was sick, and
it was not the illness that had been afflicting her these past few months. How
had their marriage—their love—come to this terrible moment?

"Virginia, let's
go," Tillie said, gripping her arm.

Virginia took one
last look at the strip of beach, but to her amazement and utter dismay, still
no militia appeared to stop the invaders. Hundreds of redcoats were running up
the beach and would soon reach the town. She turned away, beginning to tremble
with fear. "Let's go," she said hoarsely.

Holding hands, they
lifted their skirts and ran down the block and around the corner. The moment
they did so, they skidded to a stop.

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