Sputtering and spitting, he reared up. “You witch! You did that on purpose!” he accused, swiping at his tongue and teeth with the towel.
“Oh, don’t be such a baby! Besides, if anyone’s mouth needed washing out, ’tis yours!”
By this time, Jane was openly chuckling at their antics. “Now, children,” she admonished. “Let’s get on with this, shall we? Dora will be home soon.”
It was a trial for the wary pair. In order to keep her balance, Eden found she had to lean into him. Feigning assistance, he helped to steady her with a hand at her waist, his wandering fingers caressing her there. The contact sent a hot quiver through both of them, and Eden’s fingers were visibly trembling as she raised the razor to his face. “Easy now, lass,” he told her, his dark eyes burning into hers. “I like my nose the length ’tis.”
“So do I, actually,” she admitted tightly, taking a short, quick breath.
All in all, it went fairly well after that. He sat as still as the statue with which she’d mentally compared him earlier, and she managed to control her trembling enough to execute the deed with moderate success. She nicked him only twice. Once near his right ear, and once while trying to negotiate around the deep crevice in his chin.
Both heaved audible sighs of relief when it was finished. At which Jane commented laughingly, “To hear the two of you, one would think you’d just gained reprieve from the gallows!”
“An apt comparison,” Devlin allowed, paler than usual. “Mayhap I’ll consider growing a beard, until such a time as I regain normalcy.”
“Oh, pooh!” Eden grinned cheekily at him, feeling perky now that she’d gotten a bit of revenge on him. “And just when I was beginning to get good at it!”
When Devlin returned from his room a short time later, Eden was surprised, and impressed, by his improved appearance. He was attired in a snowy-white shirt, with wide sleeves and ruffled cuffs, over which he wore a black brocade waistcoat, beautifully embroidered at the edges with rich red trim. Encircling his waist was the scarlet sash, his cutlass tucked into it; at his throat lay a white satin cravat, perfectly tied. His knee breeches were also black, and fitted him so faithfully that they were just short of indecent. Indeed, they left no doubt that he was definitely a man—and well-endowed into the bargain!
He’d foregone shoes in favor of his jackboots, which were now shined to a high gloss; and in his hand he carried a cavalier-style hat, complete with waving scarlet plume. Other than the fact that he sported no outer coat over his waistcoat, Eden could find little fault with his appearance.
“Well, milady,” he queried, turning about for her perusal, “will I do?”
“Quite nicely, indeed,” she answered by way of a compliment. “Is the lack of a coat an oversight, or merely a personal preference?”
“Preference, sweetling. An overcoat is cumbersome, and often in the way when one is trying to draw one’s sword.”
“I would think ’tis also much too warm in the summer,” Jane added. “My late husband shed his as often as he dared.” She sighed sadly in remembrance. “I loved him so dearly, and letting go of him has been most difficult for me, but ’tis best now to put my terrible grieving aside and hold only to the warm memories. I think I am ready to do that at long last.”
“I’m glad, Mama. I want to see you happy again.” Eden rose and kissed her, then turned and took Devlin’s arm, thus affording her mother her first full look at him, inside of all his finery.
“Ah, that is much better!” Jane said on a watery laugh. “You can’t know how peculiar it is to see a set of clothes wandering about with no body within them! ’Tis enough to send shivers up one’s spine! Just see that you keep a firm hold on him, Eden, for all our sakes!”
Eden started for the door, only to be drawn to an abrupt halt as Devlin refused to budge. “What is it now?”
From inside his waistcoat he withdrew two finely carved tortoiseshell hair combs. He handed them to her. “The gift I promised you yesterday,” he explained.
Then he reached out and swiftly pulled the bonnet from her head. Next, the pins from her hair, where she had it bundled into a tidy knot at her nape. Her tresses fell in a shimmering brown mass across her shoulders. “Oh, Devlin! Now see what you’ve done!” she wailed. “It shall take me a good quarter hour to repair it!”
“Nay,” he corrected. “’Twill take but a minute or two to draw up the sides with the combs, and let the rest fall free.” When she would have argued, he shook his head sternly. “If I am to appear the suitor you wish me to, then you ought be the sort of lady I would fancy courting. Fair is fair, Eden.”
“But ’twill look horrid!” she lamented.
“Nay. ’Twill be most lovely. Trust me.”
With a pleading look toward her mother, Eden sought support. “Mama, tell him.”
Jane smiled, her face more alive with tenderness than Eden could recall since her father’s death. “Wear it down, Eden,” she said softly. “He’s right, my dear. When you were small, I used to love arranging it that way for you.”
Off Eden flounced, to return once more with the bonnet atop her head, though her hair was now streaming out behind it. She was three steps inside the room when Devlin again snatched the hat from her. “If you require some means to keep the sun from darkening your fair skin, pray employ a parasol until we can purchase more fashionable headgear for you.” He eyed the hat with distaste. “This god-awful thing looks as if a ragman’s wife would turn her nose up at it. For that matter, I prefer to see your hair in all its abundant splendor, not just a swatch of it hanging down your back like a horse’s tail.”
“I don’t give a whit what you prefer, Captain!” she railed at him, her eyes smoldering. She made to grab the hat back from him, but he held it out of reach. Much to her dismay, he then ripped it in half and tossed the remains over his shoulder with blatant disregard, while Jane sat staring at them in gleeful anticipation.
“You should care, Eden,” Devlin insisted, “as my sense of style seems far superior to yours.”
“You wouldn’t know fashion if it perched on your nose, you oaf!”
“I know when it’s perched on your head! Or not, as in this instance.”
“Eden, please!” Jane implored. “All this shouting is ridiculous. And for what? If he can go without a coat, then surely you can go without a bonnet for once. And it does make your hair look ever so much better this way. After all, ’tis not as if you were bald!”
Shooting a glare at both of them, Eden snatched up a parasol and swept from the room, and might have kept on going if Devlin had not caught her arm and slowed her to a more dignified pace. With haughty aplomb and a devilish twinkle in his black eyes, he bowed and offered his arm toward her. “If you please, duchess,” he said with a broad grin. “I am ever at your service.”
She grabbed at his arm, grumbling irritably. “You’re ever a thorn in my backside, Devlin Kane! That’s what you are, you wretch!”
Chapter 10
To Eden’s disgust, it took Devlin all of ten minutes to charm Reverend Johnston, a usually perceptive man. Apparently the minister had a blind spot when it came to devious sea rogues.
“Have you never considered giving up your lawless ways?” Johnston asked as the three of them piled into the carriage, on their way to Finster’s office.
“Well, I did have what you might term a spiritual encounter recently that made me look at myself in a new manner,” Devlin admitted, tongue-in-cheek.
“Was it at all enlightening, young man?”
“Fairly blinding, sir,” Devlin granted, ignoring the sharp poke Eden administered to his rib cage.
“Good. Good. And will you be staying in Charles Town, perhaps seeking a new means of earning a living?”
“For a time, though I must point out that pirating is not something one can quit at the drop of a hat.” At the reverend’s questioning look, Devlin went on to explain. “You see, sir, I have my crew to consider, some thirty men who have no other employa
ble skills. ’Twould take a while to see them set up in other work. To be perfectly frank, many might not easily convert to lawful society. Buccaneering is a daring, exciting profession, and once in the blood it is not readily quelled.”
Johnston nodded. “I can understand your dilemma. But do work on it, won’t you? Piracy is a dangerous career, and not long-lived if our government has much to say about it. In short order, our sea-lanes will be cleared of brigands, so they claim, and I would hate to see such a man as yourself laid to waste in the process.”
Seated between the two men, Eden gave a violent quiver at the thought of Devlin killed or hanged. Aware of this, the good minister was immediately contrite. “Oh, dear! I fear I have served you quite a fright with my thoughtless words. Still, ’tis something both of you need to contemplate. You must keep it uppermost in your mind, Miss Winters, if you are tempted to entertain Captain Kane as a suitor. And you, Captain, must not trifle with her tender emotions unless you can see your way clear to spending a lifetime with her.”
His sermon delivered, Johnston settled back for the ride, leaving the younger couple to ponder his wisdom.
Though at Jane’s suggestion Devlin was merely posing as Eden’s suitor at the moment, he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Had the minister somehow divined his intentions to entice Eden into his bed? Was he warning him against it? Reminding him just how detestable such an action would be? Tweaking his conscience?
Devlin shook off that thought. His conscience was conveniently at bay, right where he wanted it, and there it would stay until he’d bedded the lovely spinster. He’d made up his mind to have her, and nothing would deter him. Certainly not a mere preacher spouting morals.
Furthermore, when it did happen, which it most surely would, Eden would be more than willing. She would be as eager for him as he was for her, equally responsible and therefore unable to lay the whole blame upon his head. Besides, it wasn’t as if she wouldn’t be gaining her own sweet pleasure from it as well. He would see that she did, would make damned sure it was the most marvelous, memorable experience she’d ever known.
For her part, Eden was stunned at just how much Reverend Johnston’s comments had affected her. Lands! She’d known Devlin but three short days, and already she was devastated at the thought of harm coming to him. Still, the thought of him as an actual suitor was preposterous! While he seemed serious in his intention to lure her into his bed, the idea of him seriously courting her was laughable. The man was a rover. An itinerant charmer! Here today, gone tomorrow. In more ways than one!
Sweet heavens, the man was the closest thing to a ghost she was ever apt to meet! Not precisely choice pickings as a husband, by any stretch of the imagination. A life together? Not likely! Magnificent as he was, beguiling as he might be, he was an impossible fantasy, and best left at that.
If only he’d cease tempting her so!
When Eden entered his office, Finster came half out of his desk chair, his thin lips stretching into a parody of a smile. “My dear Miss Winters, I could scarcely believe my ears when Mr. James told me you were here to see me. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
It was only then that he noticed the two men alongside her, and his smile faded in confusion. “And you, sirs? Might I inquire why you are here as well?”
Eden plunked her fat purse onto Dudley’s desk, the coins inside clinking noisily. Gesturing toward it, she said, “I have come to pay off Papa’s loan, Mr. Finster, as agreed. Captain Kane and Reverend Johnston are here to bear witness to that fact, and to remind me to collect the canceled note and a proper receipt.”
Jane had been right. The look of surprise and dismay that crossed Finster’s mouselike features was priceless! Why, the man appeared about to swoon, as if the brush of a feather could have sent him fluttering to the floor in a faint! His face turned ashen, his tiny eyes bulged, and his mouth worked soundlessly as his stunned brain struggled to comprehend her blunt announcement.
Finally he blustered, “We-well, fine!” He gestured toward the chairs set opposite his. “Please, be seated. I’ll just run this out to Mr. James and have him tally up the total.”
As Finster’s scrawny fingers reached for the money bag, Devlin’s came down hard atop it “I think not, Mr. Finster,” he drawled. “Miss Winters would much prefer that you count it here, so there is no mistaking the amount.”
“And who are you, sir? Her appointed keeper?” Finster dared.
“Mr. Finster!” Rev. Johnston protested, before either Devlin or Eden could speak. “Kindly recall that you are in the presence of a lady, sir! Captain Kane is merely watching out for Miss Winters’s best interests, as am I.”
Properly chastised, Finster resumed his seat, while Devlin took up a defensive stance behind Eden’s chair, his hand resting lightly upon her shoulder to maintain the contact necessary to keep him visible.
As Dudley spilled the coins from the cloth and began to count them, Reverend Johnston did his best to ease the tension in the room. “Have you heard the news, Mr. Finster? Miss Winters’s mother has regained the use of her legs. My wife is visiting with her as we speak, and I shall be going over to tender my own congratulations upon leaving here.”
Dudley frowned, his concentration broken. “Yes. I had heard, though I’ve not yet had the opportunity to extend my best wishes.” He shot a hard glance at Eden from across his desk. “How did this miraculous event come about?”
“It’s really Mother’s tale to tell,” Eden replied, neatly sidestepping his question. “Suffice it to say that Captain Kane had something to do with it, and that we are all extremely grateful to him.” She turned limpid eyes toward Devlin, much enjoying her rare chance at flirtation.
“Oh? And is he also the person responsible for your abrupt turn of fortune?” Finster insinuated nastily, waving a hand over the pile of gold before him.
“Whyever would you think such a thing?” Eden asked in an offended tone. “I informed you weeks ago that I would pay the debt, long before Captain Kane ever set foot in Charles Town.”
Finster made a production of separating the coins into several neat stacks. “Forgive me if I made an incorrect assumption. Still, it does seem peculiar that you should suddenly come by the necessary funds, when everyone is well aware that your warehouse is failing. Also, does it not strike you queer that there are thirty coins in this lot? An odd coincidence, I’m sure, but quite Biblical, wouldn’t you say, Reverend?”
“As you say, a coincidence, Mr. Finster, and surely lacking the same interpretation as those thirty pieces of silver paid out to Judas,” Johnston answered with a severe frown. “Might I also take this opportunity to remind you that ’tis not at all Christian to make rash judgments of your neighbors, lest ye too be judged.”
“Amen,” Devlin intoned softly, hiding a smirk.
Eden was still trying to deal with the fact that Devlin had placed thirty coins into her purse, though these were gold rather than silver. A shiver ran up her spine. Had he intentionally presented her with this traditional sign of betrayal? But who was she betraying? She’d simply made a bargain with him, a fair agreement. If she were betraying anyone at all, placing anyone’s soul in jeopardy, it was hers alone. Still, it was an eerie thought.
Devlin’s voice brought her out of her dark musings. “Your concern about Miss Winters’s business is misplaced, Mr. Finster,” he was saying. “And not entirely correct. The warehouse is simply mismanaged, a situation the lady is currently taking steps to rectify”
“Ah, yes! I have heard that she has replaced a number of long-standing workers with new ones. Would these be members of your own crew by some chance, Captain?” Finster inquired with a snide look.
“News does travel fast in a small town, doesn’t it?” Eden remarked frostily. “And just how did you come by this information so quickly?”
“I . . . uh . . .” Finster made a pretense of being caught up in his accounting. “Why, I ran into Mr. Tilton last evening. He was concerned with the drastic measures you have suddenl
y employed.”
Eden’s brows rose. “So much so that he felt it necessary to tattle all my private dealings to you?”
Finster’s color rose. “Well, I imagine he felt compelled to inform me, since I am courting you, my dear.”
“Ah, but are you in fact doing any such thing?” Eden countered quickly, a mocking smile on her lips. “Name me one instance to prove your point, Mr. Finster. Have you once been invited to my home for Sunday supper? Have you at any time brought me flowers, or sweets, or quoted poetry to me? Have we been seen promenading the lane, or perched on the porch swing together? Nay, I say. Therefore, I fail to see why anyone would assume that you are courting me, or that I might be at all inclined to allow it of you.”
“I... I’ve sat beside you in church a number of times,” Finster stammered. “Even the good reverend can attest to that.”
Eden gave a humorless laugh. “So has my mother, yet I’m not being courted by her! And Mr. Langford sat down beside me last week, and the Widow Ames the previous Wednesday evening. Am I being courted by them as well?”
Reverend Johnston cleared his throat noisily in a bid for attention. “Another lesson to be learned, I think, Mr. Finster. That of not counting one’s chickens before they hatch. And speaking of counting, could you get on about the business at hand? I told Henrietta I would be along shortly, and time is passing.”
In quick order, the money was counted and found to be the correct amount. Though he had to be reminded, Finster did write up a receipt and produce the loan documents, which he marked as paid in full.
Splendor Page 11