Chapter 27 #3
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.
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 downstairs, 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.