Chapter 18

A week had passed since the incident in the lending house. The offended baroness had taken the first ship back to England, as had the remainder of their visiting party. Gossip was still rampant, and the Finsters’ banking business was in a decline as a result. And still, though Eden hoped for his departure with great anticipation, Dudley remained in Charles Town.

“What is keeping him here?” she wondered aloud, knowing she would not draw a full breath of relief until she’d seen the last of him. On the other hand, Dudley’s departure would, in all likelihood, precipitate Devlin’s, and Eden would rather have the threat of Finster hanging over her head forever than to see Devlin leave.

“Mayhap he’s waiting for the talk to die down, thinking folks will soon forget and all will return to normal again,” Jane suggested.

Nate nodded. “Given enough time, it just might. Looks to me like the man needs another nudge or two, Dev.”

“Aye,” Devlin agreed. Then he shook his head and added, “Who would have thought we’d have this much trouble with the likes of Finster? Blimey! Even Blackbeard wasn’t this hard to convince!”

“Blackbeard didn’t have as much to lose,” Eden reminded him. “Dudley’s entire future, and everything he’s striven for, are now at stake.”

“Which makes the man more dangerous than ever,” Jane predicted.

Devlin nodded. “Give him another day or two, and if he still hasn’t left, I’ll see what else I can do to hurry him along.”

Later that evening, Eden was undressing for bed. She’d disrobed down to her chemise, and was attempting to unravel a knot in the laces, when Devlin spoke from the darkened corner of her bedroom. “Need help with that, pet? I’m uncommonly handy at aiding ladies out of their undergarments.”

Swallowing a startled gasp, and clutching her hands over the lacy, low-cut bodice, Eden retorted breathlessly, “I don’t doubt you’ve had abundant practice, Devlin, though probably more with loose women than with ladies.” She peered into the shadows and found him lounging in the chair near the window. “I, however, do not require your help. I have been removing my own clothing for more than twenty years now, and can continue to do so quite nicely, thank you.”

“Not as nicely as with my assistance.”

“I’ll manage. Now, kindly remove yourself from my bedroom.”

“But I’ve come bearing gifts, my dove.” He rose and sauntered toward her, his hands extended. In one he held a silver-backed brush, in the other an ornate silver-edged comb, a matching set. “I was hoping you’d let down your hair and grant me the pleasure of brushing it for you.”

Even as she reached for the beautiful offerings, she commented skeptically, “Since when are you a lady’s maid, Devlin Kane?”

“Ah, but sweets, I am a man of many talents, as you would know, if you would but permit me to demonstrate a few of my better abilities.”

Eden turned toward the lamp on her dressing table, comb and brush in hand, the better to examine their intricate design. No sooner was her back turned than Devlin’s fingers were delving through her upswept hair in search of the restraining pins. Eden’s head snapped up, a ready reprimand on the tip of her tongue, as her eyes sought Devlin’s in the mirror.

The retort froze on her lips. Her eyes widened in wonder. She could feel Devlin’s breath on the nape of her neck, his warm presence just behind her, though his hands were no longer tangled in her hair. She knew he was there, and if she were to turn toward him again, she was certain she would behold the teasing smile on his face, the sparkle in his dark eyes. Yet, for the life of her, she could not discern his reflection in the mirror before her!

It was too strange! So eerie that gooseflesh peppered her skin. In all these weeks, while everyone else was experiencing this phantom phenomenon, Eden had always been able to see him. Never had she truly experienced him in this ghostly mien, as others had. Until this very moment.

He’d told her he could not view himself in a mirror. She’d believed him. She’d also believed when others could not see him. But she’d never witnessed the oddity for herself, and it came as a jolt now.

Her heart hammering a drumbeat in her breast, Eden whirled to face him. On a sigh of relief, once more her gaze met with sun-kissed flesh, actual cloth, and a substantial man.

“Oh, Devlin!” she breathed gratefully, wilting against the solid breadth of his chest. “’Twas so queer! So frightening, not to be able to see you in the mirror! At last I realize just how immense a shock this must have been for everyone else. For you most especially.”

Her words cleared the perplexed frown from his face, and Devlin chuckled, enclosing her firmly in the shelter of his arms. “Scary, isn’t it, duchess? Particularly the first instance or two. I’ve become so accustomed to your ability to see me, the thought never occurred to me that my reflection would be every bit as invisible to you as ’tis to me. Served you somewhat of a fright, eh?”

She nodded. “Upon consideration, however, more’s the wonder that it did not happen sooner. Of all the shop windows and shiny objects and mirrors we’ve passed, not once have I noticed the absence of your image in them.”

“Most likely because we were touching then,” he supposed. “At those intervals when I am totally visible to all, so is my reflection.” He turned her toward the mirror once more, removing his hands from her arms before she caught a glimpse in the glass. For the moment, hers was the only likeness reproduced.

“Watch, now,” he instructed, laying a hand to her shoulder. Upon contact between them, his image flickered into view.

Eden giggled. “’Tis like magic!” she murmured, enthralled. “A marvelous illusion! Do it again, Devlin.”

Laughing, he complied. “You are easily entertained, Eden. So like a delightful, enchanting child at times. And so like a beguiling temptress at others,” he added softly, his deep voice rumbling near her ear.

Their eyes caught and held as desire sparked between them, even through the looking glass. As Eden watched in breathless fascination, his hand slid from her shoulder, his touch ever-present as his fingertips lightly caressed the curve of her neck, the ticklish rim of her ear. Retracing the same path, he pushed the strap of her chemise aside, baring her shoulder and the high slope of her breast.

Her eyes widened, their turquoise tint changing from light to dark as she anticipated his next move. His own eyes blazed with fiery intent, gleaming like polished jet in the shimmering lamplight.

His tawny head lowered, inch by inch, until his hot, moist mouth closed over the arch of her shoulder, his teeth nipping gently at the sensitive tendon just beneath her skin. Instantly, a wild tingling streaked through her. As if at his personal, unspoken command, the peaks of her breasts hardened. Her belly burned; her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. Closing her eyes, she bit back a weak moan.

“Nay,” he directed in a hoarse whisper. “Open your eyes, Eden. Look. See how your body responds to my touch. Feel it. Know it. Want it.”

Her lashes fluttered open in helpless obedience, her gaze locking with his. As if spellbound, like a hare entranced by a hawk, she watched him adroitly unlace her chemise, his nimble fingers defying the knots with ease. Just as deftly did he deal with her corset, and suddenly . Eden found herself completely bared to his view—and her own.

His arms closed about her from behind, drawing her firmly against the front of him. Beyond the silvered surface of her mirror, she saw his hands rise, the palms cupping to cradle her breasts, his thumbs brushing the aching crests. Though she caught at her lower lip with the edge of her teeth, her answering gasp would not be stifled. Nor could she suppress the immediate quickening of her body to his skillful manipulation, the flames that shot through her, heating her blood and bringing a telltale flush to her flesh.

Even so, his sun-bronzed fingers made a startling contrast as they rested over her pale breasts, as they plucked gently at her rose-hued nipples, sending lightning deep within to pierce her womb. One dark hand wandered lower, resting for a moment on the flat plane of her stomach, making her muscles clench ever tighter, then venturing further to delve into the nest of red-brown curls that sheltered her womanhood. A whimper escaped her, a wispy breath born half from yearning, half from apprehension.

“Look, love,” he commanded yet again. “See how my hands adore your body, how they stroke and entice your loveliness.” He edged a knee between her own, parting her thighs and causing her to lean more heavily into him, to clutch at his upper arms for support.

With her head cushioned against his broad shoulder, compelled by Devlin and by her own burgeoning longings, Eden watched in passion-glazed awe as his fingers parted her, darting unerringly to the very heart of her desire, that small kernel of flesh that seemed to house the soul of her sensual feelings. At that first, stunning contact there, she lurched in his arms and cried out softly. Reflexively, she closed her eyes, only to have them spring open again as Devlin continued his sweet torment, the fingers of one hand plucking at her nipple in concert to the rhythmic stroking he applied below.

Her legs shook, her stomach trembled, her flesh felt seared to the marrow of her bones. Moist heat pooled inside her, flowing like lava in her loins. Everything tightened in intense anticipation. She ached. She burned. She wanted.

‘Tell me,” he urged softly, his mirrored eyes burning into hers. “Tell me what you feel.”

“Hot!” she mewled. “So hot ... and wet ... and tight ... and ... empty!”

Devlin slid a finger inside her, and she swallowed a muted cry of mixed relief and need. Instinctively, she moved against him, arching and twisted and reaching for more.

And still she could not tear her eyes from their reflected image, from the sight of his flesh invading hers so intimately, the vision of herself writhing so wantonly in his embrace. His fingers stretched up inside her, plumbing, probing, while the heel of his hand tantalized that outer nubbin of desire. Incredibly, her passion rose further still, until she thought she would go mindless, forever and blissfully crazed with this splendid craving.

Then, suddenly, it was as if a dam burst within her. As if a tightly compressed inner volcano had erupted full-force, thrusting her out of herself and into the bright, blinding glory of a thousand suns.

Only then did she squeeze her eyes shut, her shout of joy smothered against Devlin’s muffling hand as he held her quaking body tightly to his, sheltering her against the onslaught, supporting her through the rapturous journey.

“Be mine now,” she heard him beseech her.

And she heard herself answer meekly, willingly, “Aye.”

Devlin swung her into his arms, cradling her against his thudding heart as he carried her toward the bed. He placed her gently upon it and had just begun to unbutton his shirt when a tremendous pounding arose at the downstairs door.

“Fire!” someone shouted loudly. “Fire at the warehouse! Hurry, Cap’n Kane!”

Eden hastily yanked her night shift over her head and rushed out into the hall. Two steps beyond her door she ran headlong into Nate—the man having just emerged from her mother’s bedroom, buttoning his britches on the way!

Though she’d begun to suspect by now, this was the first time Eden was confronted with the indisputable fact that the quartermaster spent his nights in her mother’s bed. Heretofore, the older couple had been very circumspect, but the cat was out of the bag now, and Eden was caught speechless.

She and Nate stopped short in mutual shock. She gaped at him in surprise, all the while hoping God would not see fit to restore Devlin to normal visibility at this disastrous moment, and praying that her own guilt was not shining forth like a blazing beacon for all to see.

Evidently, Nate was having much the same problem with his conscience, for he stood as if turned to stone. Devlin’s timely intervention was a mixed blessing, as he noted their stupefied looks and said gruffly, “You two can thrash this out between you at a more convenient time. Or have you forgotten we’ve a warehouse to save?” With a push to get him started, the still-invisible Devlin ushered Nate toward the stairs.

“Oh, mercy! The warehouse!” Eden shrieked, coming out of her stunned state.

She started down the hall, only to have her mother call after her. “Eden! You’re in your nightdress! Let Nate and Devlin go on ahead, and you and I will follow as soon as we can.”

Eden had never dressed so quickly. Foregoing the usual number of petticoats and bindings, she dove into her wardrobe and came up with an old brown day gown, the dress she usually reserved for housecleaning and gardening. She yanked on the first pair of stockings her fingers touched, and shoved her feet into her shoes, waiting to lace them until she and Jane were in the buggy and on_their way. Only then did she realize that she’d left the house with neither shawl nor cap, but propriety be damned! Little did her lack of head-covering matter now, with her warehouse going up in flames. Better a bucket than a bonnet. And if her bare arms offended anyone at this hour of night, they could just go hang!

As their buggy careened through the dark streets, Jane was the first to introduce the touchy subject on both their minds. “Eden, did Devlin come out of your room with you when the alert first sounded?”

Hoping the darkness would cover her guilty blush, Eden returned the question in kind. “Did Nate exit your room, Mother?”

Jane did not attempt to confuse the issue. “Aye. He did. However, I am a widow, and you are a maiden, and there is a large gulf betwixt the two when it comes to what I may do and what you may not. You are still a maid, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Eden replied stiffly. “However, I fail to see why you should be permitted to break society’s rules so readily, yet deny me the same right. If my own mother can bed down with a pirate, then why shouldn’t I be allowed to choose a lover of my own? I am of age, an adult, and mature enough to make my own decisions.” 

“And your own mistakes as well? Are you mature enough to bear the consequences of your actions? What will you do when he leaves, Eden? What if you find yourself with child after he is gone? Have you thought of these things at all? Have you considered how you will be ruining your chances of marriage in the process? All for lust?”

“Not merely lust, Mama. Love. And regardless of whether Devlin stays or goes, my heart is his. I want no other, and I doubt I ever shall. I cannot help it; nor would I change it. And I most assuredly will never apologize for falling in love with him.”

“Nor do I feel any need to justify my love for Nate,” Jane concurred solemnly. “To you, or anyone else. Please understand that, Eden. Accept it, if you will.” Eden nodded, then added softly, “I hope you can do as much for me, Mama, and love me despite what I might decide, for I want no conflict between us.” 

“Darling, I shall always love you, no matter what happens. I just want you to choose your path with care and caution. God knows these sea rogues can be a tempting lot, with enough charm to lure the birds from the trees. I don’t want to see you heartbroken, or to spend the rest of your days repenting a hasty liaison.”

Eden sighed. “Let us both pray for that, Mama, for I greatly fear the two of us will be left behind, alone and weeping, with only each other for comfort.”

At first glance, it appeared to Eden that half the town was at the scene, most of the men lending a hand in the water brigades. To her amazement, she spotted Finster midway along the line, passing a bucket to the fellow next to him.

“Why, that snake! Do you see what I see? Do you believe it?” ,

“Not for a minute,” Jane assured her. “Like as not, he tossed a torch shortly before he took up this helpful pose. I just wish one of our guards could have caught him at it.”

Though there were several fires spread among the warehouse buildings, the major conflagration was located toward the front, furthest from the river. This was where Devlin and most of his crew concentrated their efforts, while a handful of others managed to contain the smaller flames.

There was very little the two women could do to help other than stay safely out of the way and let the men do their best. From the buggy they watched, and worried, and prayed. They’d been on the scene for perhaps a quarter of an hour, though it seemed much longer, when Eden’s gaze caught a movement in the shadows. When she recognized Tilton skulking about between the buildings, she was glad her attention had wandered in his direction.

“Mama! Look! ’Tis Mr. Tilton!” As she spoke, Eden was hopping down from the buggy.

“Eden! Where do you think you’re going?” Jane asked frantically.

Eden halted and frowned up at her mother. “After Tilton, of course.”

‘To do what, dear? The man is undoubtedly up to no good, and most probably dangerous. You cannot just go running after him by yourself and confront him.” 

“Who else is there to do it?” Eden countered impatiently, her eyes searching the area where she’d last seen the man. “Our men have all they can do fighting the fire. We can’t just let him get away! We’ve been looking for evidence against him for too long!” Without waiting for further objections, Eden gathered up her skirts and dashed toward the shadows.

“Wait! Eden, for the love of God!” Jane called out. As quickly as she could, she, too, climbed to the ground, running after her daughter, who had already disappeared from sight.

Tilton was no longer in the darkened pathway between the buildings into which Eden ran. Hardly slowing to allow for the lack of light, she sprinted toward the rear of the structure. There she stopped to catch her breath and listen, but all she heard was her own thudding heartbeat.

Cautiously, she peered around the corner, looking both ways. To the right, some distance away, she saw a furtive movement. As quietly as she could, she edged along the back of the building, hardly daring to blink lest she lose sight of him again.

Ahead of her, the man stopped. After a brief look about him, he bundled something around his arm, raised it, and struck the glass from a small window. Before Eden could call out, or do anything else to stop him, he lit some sort of torch and tossed it quickly into the building. Almost instantly, smoke and flames began to belch from the window.

Without thinking or caring about anything but stopping him, Eden bolted forward. Launching herself at him, she caught him by the arm. “You thieving beast!” she shrieked. “How dare you do this!”

Tilton whirled, and suddenly Eden was caught in a relentless grasp. By the light of the fire he’d just lit, Tilton glared at her with wild eyes. “You!” he barked. He let loose a harsh laugh. “Well now, if this isn’t a fortunate turn of events. You’re just the person I need to talk to, missy.”

“Let loose of me!” Eden was kicking and struggling, but Tilton seemed to have ten times her strength.

He shook her hard. “Shut yer trap and listen to me!” he ordered gruffly. “I left a metal chest here, hidden in one of the buildings. I came looking for it before, but you and yer pirate lover took it upon yerselves to move the merchandise around. I want that trunk, missy. I want it now.”

“I ... I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eden gasped. “Even if I did, God alone knows how many trunks and boxes there are in this place. It could be anywhere, probably aflame at this very minute.”

“You’d better hope it isn’t, lovey,” he growled, bringing his face close to hers. “Now think fast. ’Tis red with black straps, about two foot long and high. Full of books.”

She blinked up at him. “Books?” she scoffed. “I’ll wager the only books you’ve ever cared to open were our account books, and that only to steal from the company. Even then, Dudley Finster probably had to decipher them for you.”

His smile was more evil than anything she could have imagined. “Figured that out, did ye, dearie? Took ye long enough. And good old Finster thought he’d have ye wedded and bedded b’fore you knew anything about it. Well, that’s his bad fortune. Me, I just want my money, and you’re gonna tell me what you’ve done with it, or I’ll break your scrawny neck here and now.”

One huge hand moved up to close about her throat. Hating herself for her own cowardice, Eden begged, “Please! I don’t know where it is!”

Hard fingers threatened to close off her air as Tilton’s thumb pressed hard against her windpipe. “Lying bitch! You’ve got half a minute to remember where you hid it, or the next face you see will be your Maker’s.”

“I don’t know where the men put it,” she insisted frantically, tears blurring her vision. “They went through all the goods stored in each building, cataloging which cargo belonged to whom. Anything they couldn’t account for went into the big room over the office for safekeeping, until we could locate the owners. Mayhap your strongbox is up there.”

Even in this light, Eden saw Tilton’s face blanch as he realized that the structure housing the office was the one where the worst of the fire now blazed. “Damn and blast ye and yer meddling friends!” he cursed.

He threw her from him, already racing toward the office as Eden’s head struck hard against the wooden frame of the warehouse behind which they stood. Without a murmur, she slumped to the ground beside the burning building.

Eden was beyond hearing the shot that rang out mere seconds after she fell. Nor was she aware of her mother kneeling beside her, nearly hysterical as she hastily tossed the smoking pistol aside and tried to determine the extent of Eden’s injuries. Unable to awaken her, aware of the peril to them both, Jane caught Eden beneath the arms and, with extraordinary might, dragged her daughter’s limp body a safe distance from the fire. There, she collapsed next to Eden and gave way to her tears.

Eden awoke to the sound of her mother’s sobbing pleas. With effort, she forced her eyelids open, though the pain lancing through her head demanded otherwise. “Mama?” she croaked out.

Gentle hands stroked the hair from her brow. “Oh, baby! My brave, foolish child!” Jane wailed. “You might have been killed! I tried to warn you.”

“He got away, didn’t he?” Eden groaned.

“Not without a ball from your father’s gun,” Jane replied. “I think I hit him in the leg, but I can’t be certain.”

“You shot him?” Eden asked incredulously, then gasped at the pain the slight exclamation brought.

“That I did, but don’t fret about that now. We’ve got to get you some aid, darling. You mustn’t try to move until we see how badly you are injured. Where is the pain, dear?”

“My head. I fell against something.”

“Do you hurt anywhere else? Your back? Your limbs?”

“Nay,” Eden denied weakly. Then she qualified her statement. “At least, I think not.”

“Can you stand, if I assist you? I hate to leave you here alone while I go for help.”

Together, they struggled to their feet. Eden’s head threatened to explode, and she had to wait several seconds for the colored lights to stop dancing before her eyes, but she managed to stay upright. Slowly, with Jane supporting her all the while, they made their way back toward their buggy.

Eden was slumped against the front wheel, her mother beside her, when Devlin came dashing up, his face blackened with soot. “What happened?” he demanded with a worried scowl.

“Tilton,” Jane answered shortly. “I shot at him, but he still managed to get away.”

“Nay. I know where he’s gone,” Eden wheezed. “The room over the office. He went after a red coffer full of books—and money. Our money.”

Promise of unholy retribution blazed in Devlin’s dark eyes. “I’ll kill him for harming you!”

Before Eden could dissuade him, Devlin was gone again. She watched him go, wondering if any man could be so angry and not love the woman he was about to avenge.

She watched Devlin lope toward the burning office.

Just as he reached the bottom of the outer staircase leading to the second story, Tilton emerged from the upper doorway. Unaware of Devlin’s approach, he limped down the steps, his coveted tin of treasure wrapped in a scorched blanket and clutched in his arms. Devlin was three steps up—and Tilton three steps down—when the staircase gave a violent shudder. With an ear-splitting creak of rending wood, it tore away from the smoldering building. For several breathless seconds it seemed to stand on its own, tilted precariously in midair—just long enough for Devlin to leap free. Then it collapsed, crumbling down like a house of cards, hurtling Tilton with it. Within moments, the man was crushed beneath the heavy rubble, his torso flattened by a huge beam.

The crash brought several men running, Finster and Nate among them. They were still gaping at the gruesome spectacle when Devlin bent over Tilton’s bloody form. The first to recover his wits, Nate approached cautiously, inching his way carefully over splintered wood toward the body.

“He’s dead, Nate,” Devlin announced softly, giving Nate yet another fright, since Devlin was still invisible.

Nate answered with a hearty “Blimey!” which the others attributed to the bloody sight before them.

Finster made his way forward to stand at Nate’s side. “ ’Tis Tilton,” he proclaimed to one and all. “The poor, gallant man! To lose his life trying to save the warehouse, even after being dismissed so precipitantly. How loyal!”

As the others shook their heads and began to disperse, returning to the task of dousing the fires, only Nate and Finster lagged behind—and the unseen Devlin. Spying the metal coffer, Finster’s eyes took on a speculative gleam. “It appears that Tilton saved a small bit of merchandise as he fell. I’ll take it and put it safely with the other rescued cargo.”

As Dudley reached to retrieve the box from amidst the fallen timbers, Devlin hissed in Nate’s ear, “Don’t let him have that chest! ’Tis Tilton’s stolen wealth Finster is about to pilfer for himself.”

Thus spurred, Nate drew his cutlass and waved it menacingly beneath the accountant’s nose. “I wouldn’t be so hasty to put me hands on Miss Winters’s property, were I you, Mr. Finster. Now, be on yer way, and I’ll take care of the matter meself.”

Anger twisted Finster’s face, but prudence had him backing off. “How dare you threaten me, you good-for-nothing ruffian! I’ll have the constable after you!”

“Then why don’t ye just go fetch the man now,” Nate suggested. “He’ll be wantin’ to view Tilton’s remains and arrange to remove them for burial, in any case.”

Finster marched off in a huff, spouting dire warnings, and Nate lost no time in uncovering the strongbox and delivering it directly to the safety of Eden’s buggy.

As the last of the fires were finally extinguished, Devlin, Nate, and the Winters women wearily assessed the damage. It turned out to be much less than they had at first feared, thanks to the speedy arrival and dedicated aid of so many volunteers.

The office building was the only structure that had been entirely demolished; fortunately, since the previous ransacking, Eden had removed all the important documents and files to the house for safekeeping. Also, as she had informed Tilton, the only merchandise stored there was unclaimed items. Thus, it wasn’t likely anyone would now come demanding reimbursement for them.

It also proved prophetic that they had recently redistributed the cargo in an effort to store it in a less haphazard fashion. By doing so, they had inadvertently thwarted Tilton’s attempts to destroy the most valuable merchandise. Changing the locks had been a fortuitous move as well. Denied their usual entry, Tilton and his fellow arsonists had resorted to breaking windows and blindly tossing torches within, never knowing they were setting fire to less costly goods than they suspected.

Where expensive tobacco had been stored previously, only a shipment of animal hides had been singed, causing more smoke than flame. As was the green cypress awaiting transport to England, the wood being too freshly cut to burn. Very little of either was lost. In another area, the wooden crates holding crockery had burned, leaving the dishes blackened but still of good use—discounting the few which had cracked in the heat. The load of cast-iron goods had sustained no damage at all; a few barrels of rice had been scorched before the remainder was successfully removed from harm’s, way.

Luckily, numerous bolts of valuable cloth had been replaced just the previous day by a cargo of popping corn, which had cooked in the heat and spread fluffy kernels throughout one huge room. The mass had also mysteriously acted to smother the very flames which sought to consume it, thus saving the building and the rest of the merchandise within. All in all, they had survived this latest attack with limited damage to goods and the loss of only one life—Tilton’s own.

Still, Devlin was so incensed over Eden’s injury that he swore, “If the man weren’t already dead, I’d kill him with my bare hands! And Finster with him!”

“And what of Finster now?” Jane wanted to know. “Eden told me that Tilton admitted that Dudley was involved in the theft of money from the warehouse, just as we have suspected.”

Eden nodded. “Can we have the constable arrest him on just Tilton’s confession?”

“I doubt it,” Devlin said with a shake of his shaggy blond head. “’Twould be your word for it against Finster’s, without Tilton here to add weight to the accusation.”

“What a shame the bastard had to die as soon as he did, then,” Nate put in.

“Nay. I’ve something much more fitting in mind for our mewling accountant,” Devlin told them, his black eyes twinkling with devilment. “A penalty more just than a quick and merciful hanging or a few years in prison, with his father’s money buying him nearly as much comfort as his own home. But first, before we see the last of him, he must be made to face the error of his ways, to relinquish that which he stole.” Devlin’s smile was diabolical. “Maties, methinks ’tis time for another haunting.”