Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
DEVLIN O’NEILL ENTERED the great hall of Askeaton with long, purposeful strides, tossing his greatcoat at his valet. “Where is my wife, Hughes?” he began.
But he did not have to continue. The two solid oak doors that yielded to a large yet intimate salon opened and Virginia appeared, crying out. She instantly rushed across the flagstone floors and into his arms. “Devlin!”
He embraced her once, hard, then quickly led her back to the salon. “Hughes.” He spoke as if still commanding a warship. “We are not to be disturbed.”
“Yes, Sir Captain.” Hughes closed both doors behind them.
Devlin met his wife’s frightened eyes and his heart turned over.
Once, his life had been a black hole of obsession; Virginia had been unfortunate enough to be his worst enemy’s niece and he had cruelly and ruthlessly used her as an instrument of revenge.
He wasn’t certain when he had fallen in love with her, but he thought he had loved her at first sight, when she had stood on the deck of an American merchantman in high seas, trying to take a sniper shot at him.
He had been intent on mayhem and piracy, but even while boarding the enemy ship, he had admired her audacity and daring, not to mention her unusual beauty.
She had become his mistress and then his wife. She was everything now—his dearest friend, his untiring lover, the mother of his two children, his guiding light. She was his heart. “Darling, you need not worry so.”
“I need not worry!” she repeated in disbelief, as white as a sheet. She shook her head. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again! I thought you were in Cobh!”
He took her small hand in his. Even after so many years together, he was amazed by how tiny and delicate she was.
“Before leaving the county, I learned of a schooner here in Limerick, newly arrived. I have purchased the Gazelle. She is small but swift and smart and she will suit our purposes nicely.”
Virginia faced him, both of her small hands on his broad chest. “I must come with you, Devlin. I am terrified that we will never see one another again.”
He was dismayed. “I have every intention of returning to you. And what of the children?”
A tear began to crawl down her cheek. “You know I can’t leave them. But they could come with us. No matter what happens, we would be together as a family.”
“Absolutely not.”
“How small is the Gazelle? How many guns does she carry—how many marines?”
Unfortunately, his wife had learned a great deal about ships and naval warfare. He hesitated.
“Devlin!” she cried.
“Darling, she only carries nine guns.” He saw the panic fill her eyes.
“Virginia, I am not going to engage the British. She is exceedingly swift. The British will be following Cliff,” he reminded her.
And to lighten her mood, he smiled. “Cliff intends to lead them on quite a merry chase! His arrogance knows no bounds. He is enjoying his mission and I feel certain he thinks to lead them across the entire Atlantic Ocean before they ever realize they have been duped. Knowing my brother, he will serve the officers a fine crow supper in his island home.”
Virginia wiped at her tears. “If your plan works, how will you return home?”
“I do not want you to know any details, as my absence will eventually be remarked. I have laid a paper trail to France—you may insist I am attending to business in Paris. But when I return, I will not be on the Gazelle. Have no fear, Virginia. I am coming home.”
He had never seen her this afraid, not since that terrible day in her native land when she had thought him killed in action during the war between their countries. “Darling, I must help Sean.”
“I know. You remain the bravest man I have ever met—and the most steadfast,” she whispered.
“It will only be a few months,” he returned, finally allowing his real emotion to creep into his tone.
His life had changed. Once, he had avoided land like the plague, never spending more than a few days in any port.
Now, he avoided travel in the same way. He had not seen his wife and children in three days, and it felt like three years.
He hated leaving them now, but he must save his brother from the gallows.
“We will be waiting for you, Devlin,” Virginia said, forcing a smile. “I am sorry I am acting so spineless. I am so glad you could come home, if only for a few hours.”
She knew him so well. “I must set sail before dawn and speed the Gazelle to Cobh, Virginia.” He met her violet eyes. “I do not want to waste any time.”
Virginia raised her face to his. “Neither do I.”
Devlin crushed her in his arms, claiming her mouth with the same hunger he’d felt upon first seeing her on the deck of that ship, six fateful years ago.
KILRAVEN HILL WAS an old garrison, established centuries ago during the latter part of Queen Elizabeth’s reign.
Some of the original stone walls were still standing.
About five hours from Limerick and Adare, the fort had certainly been close enough for Eleanor to be familiar with it, but she had never once visited the command.
Now, as her carriage passed through the curtain of wood stockade walls, Connelly seated beside her in manacles, she shivered.
Brawley had claimed that she was no prisoner, but in that moment, she felt very much like one.
Connelly was no longer pale. He had spent the past few hours in silence, and occasionally she had heard him pray.
Eleanor had tried to reassure him but had then given up.
He was a commoner, an Irishman and a Catholic, and he had aided and abetted a traitor’s escape.
If he was fortunate, he would be deported, not hanged.
“My lady,” he suddenly said, facing her. “I have prayed for you, too.”
Eleanor’s heart danced with renewed anxiety. “Mr. Connelly, you have placed yourself at great risk to usher me safely home. The moment I arrive there, I will do my best to see to it that you are freed.”
He shook his head. “I have a wife and two children. I’m afraid for them, too.”
Eleanor touched his arm. “I will take care of them,” she said, “and it is a promise.”
Relief softened his eyes.
The carriage halted before a large stone building, and Brawley was already opening her door. “Lady Eleanor?” He smiled reassuringly at her. “We are at the garrison’s headquarters. Please?”
“What will happen to O’Brien?” she asked, stepping down from the carriage with Brawley’s help.
“He will be imprisoned until his trial.”
“So he has already been charged?” she cried.
Brawley flushed. “Not to my knowledge.”
“Is there any justice in this world?” she demanded grimly. “Has it not occurred to you that he may be innocent of the crimes you wish to accuse him of?”
Brawley lowered his eyes. “Lady Eleanor, we have had spies in Cork for days and Connelly was identified as a Blueboy almost immediately by our men. We have a witness who will testify that he aided Sean O’Neill from the moment O’Neill arrived in the city.
But you are right. This may be a misunderstanding and I have been too quick to judge. ”
“Thank you,” Eleanor managed stiffly. She was aghast that Brawley knew Connelly’s real identity. The fact that she had been covering for him made her look like an accomplice.
But Brawley did not remark on it. He ushered her inside, his expression grim.
Clerks and staff sergeants were seated at desks in a large room, attending to their duties.
Across the room, Eleanor glimpsed an open door and another office, dominated by a large desk.
Brawley indicated that she precede him to it.
Her heart raced madly. She had had several hours to brood in the carriage and she knew what she must do.
In a terrible and ironic way, Fate had intervened again, placing her in the position of being able to help Sean elude the authorities.
She might never see him again, but she could lead the authorities astray in their search for him by feeding them false information.
Eleanor stepped into the office. The moment she did so, she saw Sean’s likeness taped on the white wall behind the desk and she blanched. The poster was too far away for her to read, but she knew it was a poster offering a reward for Sean’s capture. Her stomach lurched sickeningly.
Brawley smiled reassuringly at her. “I will have tea and biscuits brought in. The colonel has been summoned. He will be present shortly.”
She stared at the poster, barely hearing Brawley.
She fought for her composure, when what she wanted to do was seize the poster, read it and then rip it to shreds.
Instead, she breathed deeply. Then she lifted her gaze to the young captain and smiled at him.
“You have been terribly kind. Thank you for making this ordeal somewhat bearable, Captain.”
“I would there was no ordeal at all, Lady Eleanor.”
She smiled again. “Can you send word to my father that I am here?”
He started. “The earl is in London, bent upon attaining a pardon for your stepbrother.”
Hope leaped in Eleanor’s breast, but she did not change her expression.
Brawley bowed and left, closing the door firmly behind him.
So much excitement began. Her father was a great man of power as well as wealth, and when he was determined to succeed, he never failed.
Surely he would attain Sean’s pardon and this nightmare would finally end!
She didn’t dare think about what the end of his fugitive status would mean for her.
There was no time for more hope and certainly not for procrastination.
She went to the desk and passed behind it.
She stared at the poster, her conviction hardening.
The page declared that Sean was armed and dangerous, an escaped felon and a traitor.
He was to be apprehended by any means necessary, dead or alive.
A reward of 10 pounds was being offered.