It was Devlin who came up with a solution. “’Tis because I am a pirate, you say?” he mused, as they discussed the problem over dinner one evening. “Then methinks I must improve my image to these people, lest your reputation suffer for it, Eden. Why not tell them that I am your new business partner? Surely, if they think me engaged in a legitimate venture, they will view me more kindly, and you in turn. And who is to claim otherwise, now that you have dismissed Tilton?”
Eden looked dismayed. “Yet another lie, Devlin? Heaven knows, I shall soon become so adept at deceit, I’ll be hard-put to tell the truth, or to decipher the difference betwixt the two.”
“Need it be a lie, daughter?” Jane put in calmly. “If ’twould bother your conscience so, why not make it fact? I’d not object, so long as Devlin pledges not to sell his interest to anyone else without our prior approval, or to do anything that would be a detriment to the company. Would that be satisfactory to both of you?”
“Aye.” Devlin nodded. “You but set the amount, and I’ll meet it.”
Still Eden frowned, foreseeing pitfalls in her mother’s suggestion. “And what happens when Devlin’s business in Charles Town is at an end, Mama? What if he should regain his normal sense of being soon and decide to go on about his brigandry? Do we then lay claim to a partnership with a criminal? I vow business would take a turn for the worse then, for sure, more so than with Tilton and Finster executing our downfall.”
Devlin arched a golden brow in Eden’s direction. “Criminal, am I? And what, pray tell, is Finster, if not painted with a blacker brush? At least I go about my piracy openly, for all to see.”
“How so, when it is impossible for others to discern you?” she argued, not backing down. “And you must admit that I have plausible cause for concern. Pray, what is to happen to your portion of the business when you leave?”
“You could always hold it for me, and set aside my part of the earnings until next I make port in Charles Town. Or, if it would make you more comfortable to regain full ownership at that time, you can buy my share back again before I sail.”
“What if, God forbid, we have even worse financial reversals in the meanwhile, are forced to spend those monies you would pay us now, and cannot remit it to you when the proper time comes?” she persisted stubbornly.
Devlin heaved an exasperated sigh and rolled his expressive black eyes. Then his gaze centered on her face, his white teeth flashing in a roguish grin. “Don’t get your shift a-twist in knots over it, Eden,” he counseled with a dry chuckle. “ ’Twill only make you more contrary than you already are. At any rate, you are forgetting that I promised to look after the warehouse for you until I sail again. Trust me to see that you do not go to the poorhouse in a tumbrel, will you, please?”
Thus it was that Devlin became part owner in the warehouse, and was henceforth introduced as Eden’s business partner, though in actuality he was more Jane’s partner than Eden’s, at least legally. Even Eden was amazed at what an immediate reversal the general populace executed, tradesmen and townsfolk alike extending polite smiles and a fair dose of congeniality toward their newest fellow merchantman.
A few even invited him into their homes, now that he was reputably employed, and Eden was quick to note that those who asked him to dine invariably had homely daughters or unwed nieces abiding beneath their roofs. She couldn’t decide whether to laugh or be offended, for it was as if they were saying, “Come look my daughter over, sir. If you can cast your sights on Eden Winters, then surely you will be more pleased with our offering.”
It salved her wounded vanity that Devlin had to refuse their invitations, unless they also included her, for he was incapable of doing so without her, unless he wanted to attend as a phantom. Also, to his credit, Devlin appeared not to have any desire for female companionship other than hers, giving everyone the distinct impression that he was content with the woman he had and could not be tempted from her side. False impression or not, it bolstered Eden’s feminine pride no end, especially since all of Charles Town had previously considered her a dowdy. And if he were at all sincere, it also spoke well of Devlin’s loyalty.
When she mentioned this to him in passing, trying not to put much weight behind her words for fear of hearing him declare that the only reason he was true to her was that it was impossible to have a relationship with anyone else, he laughed. “What sort of fickle fellow do you take me for, lass? Aye, I’ll not deny dallying where my nose has led in the past, but I am loath to veer from your scent, it seems. There is something about you which lures me, wench, that challenges me to see you yield.”
“And should I do so, you would then be off to greener pastures, I suppose. So fast you’d leave naught behind but a trail of dust!” Her pert nose rose by several inches.
To her surprise, and his own, he shook his head. “Mayhap, but I think not so quickly. Nay, methinks ’twould take longer than that to have my fill of you, my beauty, for you are a rare treasure. A pearl which promises to glow ever brighter with the polishing.”
“Pretty phrases, but rendered next to nothing since they are uttered with the sole purpose of seducing me, a feat you’ll not accomplish, pirate,” she countered haughtily, determined not to let his smooth tongue entice her to grief. Yet, even as she once more denied him, her heart ached painfully within her breast, yearning for something she could never have—his undying love.
“I suppose it means nothing that I care for you more than I have any other woman?” It amazed Devlin to find he truly meant the words, that he really did care what she felt for him, what she thought of him.
“It matters, Devlin. It matters a great deal. But not enough to sully myself for pleasures which could be gone with the next tide. I will not sacrifice my pride merely to grant you another notch on your bedpost.”
“I never kiss and tell, milady. Nor do I keep a tally of my lovers on my bedpost.”
“No doubt your mattress would be resting upon the floor if you did, the bedpost having been whittled away to nothing!” Her beautiful eyes glared up at him. “However, notches or not, I will not be added to your list of lovers.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Eden, if you must. But you are fooling no one except yourself,” he told her with a taunting smile. “You will succumb, and revel in your surrender.”
Eden was luxuriating in the new brass tub, up to her neck in hot water and enjoying every blessed moment of it. As tall as she was, the old washtub had been a bit short for her, and it was delightful to be able to stretch out full-length, even though this tub took half again as many bucketsful of heated water to fill it. She was warm, drowsy, and content, not at all concerned about being interrupted in her bath, since her mother was in bed, and Devlin was out carousing with his mates and would not return until late.
Or so she assumed, until a deep voice sounded softly near her ear. “God, Eden! You’re even more lovely than I’d guessed.”
Startled, Eden’s eyes flew open to find Devlin kneeling beside the tub, his gaze avidly perusing her sleek body, which was fully exposed beneath the crystal-clear water. Her first reaction was to sit upright, which only served to bring her breasts bobbing above the waterline, water cascading from them in gleaming sheets. Realizing her mistake, she immediately hunched down again, drawing her legs up toward her torso, attempting to shield her most intimate parts with them, while she covered her breasts with folded arms.
“Get out of here!” she squeaked, absolutely mortified.
“But I’m so enjoying the view,” he retorted, unrepentant. He dangled the wash cloth before her, just out of her reach. “Shall I scrub your back for you? Mayhap lather those delicate toes? Those long legs of yours? Those pert pink breasts you are trying so desperately to hide? Shall I pull the pins from your hair and wash your burnished tresses?” He put words to action, and her carelessly upswept hair tumbled down over her shoulders, the ends floating brightly in the water.
“You’re supposed to be out drinking with your crew!” she accused in a
shaky voice, near tears at being caught in such an awkward position. “You should be getting drunk and raising Cain, and such. You’re not supposed to be home yet.”
He laughed softly. “But I am home, and just now I am becoming very drunk, indeed. On your beauty. Furthermore, there are certain parts of Kane, Devlin Kane, which are definitely being raised at this moment. Would you care to have me show you, sweetling? Mayhap I could join you in your bath and fulfill at least one of my fantasies—and yours?”
‘Try it, and I’ll scream the shingles off the roof!” she grated through clenched teeth. “Then you’ll see just how true Mama’s aim can be!”
He continued to grin at her, his hand stealing out to lift the hair from the shoulder nearest him. Baring her moist flesh, he planted a hot kiss at the arch of her neck, sending gooseflesh skittering from Eden’s scalp to her toes. “The risk might be worth it, love.”
His lips caressed a burning path to the upper curve of her breast, that portion not covered by her quivering hands, and Eden suddenly forgot how to breathe.
In a strangled voice, she gasped, “Don’t!”
His fingers were gently prying hers away, to afford him better access, when Jane called out from the top of the stairs. “Eden, dear? When you’ve finished with your bath, would you please bring a cup of warm milk up to me? For some reason, I simply cannot get to sleep this evening.”
Devlin muttered a curse. Eden stared back at him, nearly spellbound by the desire reflecting in his sin-black eyes. “Answer her!” he hissed.
“Uh ... yes, Mama!” she stammered loudly. “I’ll be right up with it. Straightaway.”
He rewarded her, and himself, with a swift, hard kiss to her lips, then stood and raked impatient fingers through his hair. “I’ll keep trying, duchess,” he promised with a rueful smile. “You won’t always have your mother near to preserve your virtue.”
Eden was not the only one who showed signs of physical improvement lately. Jane was almost aglow with renewed health. The change was dramatic. Perhaps it was because she could move about normally, but her complexion was far less pallid now, her body more firm with each passing day. Though still peppered with strands of gray, her hair had regained its former luster. There was new life in her face, a gleam of interest in her eyes. She appeared ten years younger.
Here was yet another reason to be grateful for Devlin, for not only had he been responsible for the fright that had forced Jane to her feet once more, but his presence, and all the mystery and secrecy involved in it, seemed to intrigue her greatly. After three long years, Jane seemed to have accepted her husband’s passing at last, and was finding a new level of peace within herself. No longer did she simply watch as life went on around her, a shadow of her former self. Now she chose to participate, to involve herself in the scheme of things.
There was plenty of opportunity for that these days. Jane, Eden, Devlin, and Nate often held evening conferences once Dora had retired to her quarters. They discussed problems at the warehouse and possible solutions for them. In the process, Eden and Jane came to know Devlin’s quartermaster fairly well.
Though Eden thought the older man as ill-bred as Devlin had been when he’d first come into their house, she abided Nate. For a brigand, he was moderately considerate of ladies and made a halfhearted effort to curb his salty language in their presence, which was more than she had expected.
Jane, on the other hand, did not seem to find Nate in the least offensive. Soon she began taking pains with her dress and hair when she knew Nate was coming. Moreover, she appeared to bask in the man’s awkward praise, obviously enjoying his company immensely. His witty remarks, off-color though they frequently were, brought a chuckle to her lips and a sparkle to her eyes.
For this, too, Eden was thankful. After years of mourning, Jane had discovered laughter again. Eden was less thrilled when Nate began appearing at the house more regularly for the specific purpose of visiting Jane—alone. More than once, Eden entered a room unannounced to find them seated unnecessarily close together on the divan, both looking slightly guilty, as if she’d nearly caught them in an embrace.
In turn, Jane was amazed and delighted at the transformation of her only child. Eden was evolving into the attractive, winsome daughter Jane had always hoped to see, bickering with Devlin at every turn, her timidity forgotten as she challenged the handsome pirate captain with outright impudence. She’d sprung from her shell, a bold new creature, so vibrant that Jane could scarcely believe the change in her. And amidst it all, there was never a dull moment, only endless surprises popping up at the oddest times.
To her dying day, Jane would never forget the afternoon Devlin washed his invisible clothing for the second time. For once, they had no company, and Dora had gone to visit a friend, at Jane’s suggestion. Eden, Jane, and Devlin were alone in the house. On the excuse that someone might decide to come visiting and catch him in more detectable clothing, which he would then have to hurriedly discard, Devlin again chose to don a bed sheet to conceal his nakedness. Eden suspected he did so more to irritate her than for any other reason, but since he was modestly covered, and her mother was there to keep him on his best behavior, she ignored his taunting smile and kept her comments to herself.
They were all in the sitting room, Jane tatting lace and Eden sorting through the yarn which had made a tangle of her sewing bag. Devlin was lounging in a chair, regaling them with tales of his travels. None of them heard the back door open, and they were totally unaware of approaching footsteps until Dora suddenly appeared in the room.
“I’m back,” she announced heartily, as the others looked up in surprise. “I brung a nice chunk o’ venison back with me, to roast for dinner. Mary’s man just bagged it this mornin’, and there was too much for just the two of them, without some goin’ to waste.”
“How nice of them to share it,” Jane answered weakly, deliberately keeping her gaze from the chair where Devlin sat. “But you needn’t have rushed home so soon, Dora. ’Tis not so often you get to spend much time with your friend.”
Dora shrugged. “Couldn’t be helped, not if you want to eat afore midnight. And now I’m glad I did,” she added, dividing a stem glare between the two ladies. “Which one o’ you has been mucking about in my kitchen and slopped soapy water all over the floor? Why, to mind you, ye’d think I have nothin’ better to do than to go around all day pickin’ up after you.”
As if to prove her point, her eyes lit on the sheet draped over a nearby chair. Two quick strides, and Dora had her hand on it. Another second, during which the other three held their collective breath, and she gave it a stout yank. Only Eden could see the way Devlin’s eyes widened as the sheet pulled taut about him, a goodly amount of it trapped between him and the chair. When the cloth did not immediately come loose, Dora frowned, muttering, “Why’d you tuck this old thing into the cushions anyway? And in such a muddled knot?”
“Uh, leave it, Dora,” Jane suggested breathlessly. “Captain Kane stopped by, and he had dirt on his britches. We covered the cushion to protect it from soiling.” Once again, Eden was amazed at how smoothly her mother could lie when the situation warranted it.
Dora was nothing if not conscientious about her household duties, however, much to everyone’s current dismay. “Well, he’s gone now, and there’s no sense leavin’ the room cluttered.” She gave the cloth another tug, and there was nothing for it but for Devlin to cooperate in the matter. With one hand on the arm of the chair, he levered himself slightly, enough for his weight to be lifted; with the other he unwound the sheet from about his body. Dora whisked it away, unknowingly exposing his nude body to Eden’s view. With a satisfied grunt, Dora shuffled off, still grumbling to herself as she folded the sheet in her ample arms.
After one quick, unwitting glimpse, which was more than sufficient to give Eden a memorable image of Devlin’s personal anatomy, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “Oh, my stars!” she wailed softly, hellfire licking at her cheeks as she raised shaking hands to
cover her face. “My blessed stars! Mother! Do something!”
It was a rare occurrence which struck Jane Winters speechless, but this was one of them. For several long seconds, all she could do was stare at her daughter, then at the empty chair where Devlin still sat, if the dent in the cushion was a true indication. Though Jane could not see him herself, Eden’s mortified reaction was clear evidence that she had seen more than a maiden should. For just a moment, knowing from those times when he was visible to her what a fine figure of a man he was, Jane wished she, too, could view what Eden had. Then, with a slight shake, she collected her senses. “Captain, kindly do cover yourself,” she commanded softly.
Devlin sat with one hand inadequately covering his privates, and the other cupped about his chin, half–hiding a silly grin. “Would you happen to have a fig leaf convenient?” he quipped, casting about for anything within reach which would do the job and finding nothing available to him. “Or perhaps you could stitch up a lace doily while I wait? That is, if Miss Eden promises not to peek.”
Across from him, Eden gave a strangled choke. “You infernal beast!” she hissed. Blindly, she dug into her sewing bag and produced a partially finished shawl. Still without looking, she tossed it in his direction. ‘There! Now, be gone!”
Not yet fully recovered, Jane would have given a king’s ransom to have seen the entire picture. As it was, all she witnessed as a tattered piece of pink-and-white knitting floating from the room, leaving behind a trail of unraveling yarn.
While Jane had become accustomed, as much as anyone could, to the idea of having a pirate ghost inhabiting her house, Zeus was an entirely different matter. No matter how hard she tried, she could not grasp the concept of an invisible falcon roosting in the upstairs guest room. Of course, the big bird often went out with Devlin and Eden, which helped immensely, for Jane could not imagine what Dora might do if the fowl decided to set up a fuss, or how she would ever explain the current state of affairs to the servant. It was work enough trying to hide Devlin’s presence from her, to invent ways to get her out of the house when need be, and to excuse the growing list of curiosities which seemed to occur daily.
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