Chapter 6

While Eden worked on the account books in the warehouse office, Devlin decided to put his invisibility to good use and have a look around the place. It was turning out to be very advantageous to be able to listen in on private conversations without being seen. Or to snoop through the goods stored there with no one being in the least suspicious.

By the time he’d been there an hour, it was plain to him that Winters Warehouse was not being operated with much efficiency. Merchandise was stored haphazardly, with little or no regard for items which might be spoiled or crushed, and no obvious measures taken to safeguard against theft. Under different circumstances, Devlin would have been thrilled to learn this. The warehouse and its treasures were ripe pickings for even a novice brigand. Robbing it would be as easy as pie. But the shoe was on the other foot this time, and Devlin had pledged to help Eden, not steal from her. Besides which, his own accumulation of plunder would now be housed on these premises, and he did not want to see it walk off in the middle of the night, his gains in someone else’s pocket. Pilfered or not, it was still his plunder, and he meant to keep it that way.

Other things, too, were readily obvious. The warehouse should have been doing twice the business it appeared to be. Devlin counted at least a dozen workmen standing about doing nothing more strenuous than trading tales with one another and drinking ale. They made no attempt to look busy when John Tilton walked by, merely gave the man a friendly wave and went back to their conversation. It was only when a customer appeared that they wandered off in different directions, to reconvene a few minutes later in another location.

Another ship was berthed at the dock, scheduled to unload before the Gai Mer, and Devlin wandered down to observe the proceedings more closely. Tilton was there, involved in a heated argument with the ship’s captain.

“See here, man!” the captain argued. “The sum you are demanding is far and above what we were told ’twould be.”

Tilton’s narrow gaze never shifted as he spat a stream of tobacco, then spoke around the wad in his cheek. “That was the cost of storing your merchandise. There’s an added fee for docking and unloading. It’ll also cost you extra if my men do the work, but you’re free to have your crew transfer the cargo, if you prefer. Or you can forget the whole deal and go to one of the other warehouses. Take it or leave it.”

“It’ll be another week or more if I contract with another warehouse, and well you know it!” the captain retorted. “Some of the goods could rot by then.”

“Ain’t my problem, Cap’n,” Tilton told him dryly.

With much grumbling, the captain counted out the coin. “You’re a thief, Tilton. No better than a common highwayman.”

Tilton accepted the payment with a smirk and would have walked off, but the other man caught him by the sleeve. “I’ll have a receipt, if you please. Now. In writing. You can write, can’t you?”

“Lucky for you.” Tilton grinned, pulling a wrinkled pad of paper from his pocket. “Got to be able to keep some sort of record for the boss lady, though she ain’t much for figures, poor thing.”

Moving closer, Devlin caught a glimpse of the figure Tilton scribbled on the paper. It matched the amount the captain had paid him. He also noted that the money had gone directly into Tilton’s pocket, not set aside in a separate pouch for the business.

It was time for a talk with Eden.

“ ’Twould be child’s play to fleece you blind,” he said, after telling her all he’d observed. “And your man Tilton is doing a fine job of it from within, not accounting for anyone outside the business. ’Tis no wonder the warehouse is losing money these days. When, precisely, did it begin to flounder?”

“When Papa got sick and had to turn management of it over to Tilton,” Eden admitted weakly, suddenly feeling ill herself. “Are you saying it has been Tilton’s doing all the while, and I was simply too stupid to see it?”

Devlin shook his head. “Not stupid, Eden. Grief-stricken at the start, most likely. Untrained and unprepared to deal with the normal running of the warehouse, let alone the problems that began to occur as soon as your father was no longer in charge. Then, of course, Tilton was here to advise you, ready to guide you in the wrong direction.”

“Like a sheep led to slaughter.” Eden sighed. “Oh, how could I have been so naive? What am I to do now?” .

Leaning against her desk, Devlin took a puff of his cigar, letting the smoke roll toward the ceiling as he contemplated the most likely solution. “Do you trust me, Eden? Would you be willing to do as I suggest?” he asked, peering at her through the blue haze.

She, too, took a moment before answering. “I suppose that would depend on what you might ask of me, though I imagine it could not turn out any worse than having Tilton drive the business into bankruptcy.”

“What if I told you to replace most of your workmen with men from my own crew?”

She stared at him with wide eyes. “Wouldn’t that be tantamount to turning a pack of wolves loose in a hen yard?”

He laughed. “Ordinarily, I would agree with you. But not when they would be under my command. I’ve given my word to help you, Eden, and that agreement extends to my crew as well. They’ll not steal from you. They would, however, provide much-needed protection against unscrupulous scoundrels.”

“And what of Tilton? Shall I dismiss him as well?”

Devlin’s smile turned wicked. “Not just yet. It’s my thinking that once you let the others go, those following his orders and sharing in his mischief, he will go running to whomever is truly to blame for your misfortune.”

Eden was stunned. “You don’t believe Tilton is the head of this scheme?”

“No. The man is crafty, but not cunning enough to have done this on his own. Unless I miss my guess, someone else is directing him, someone with much more to gain.”

“Who?”

“That, duchess, is precisely what we are going to determine.”

At that moment, Tilton came walking into Eden’s office, an air of satisfaction about him. Now, however, Eden suspected his good humor was caused by more than merely being pleased with himself for holding the reins of her company firmly in his control. His bearing smacked of male supremacy, and above that, she thought he was probably snickering up his sleeve at her.

His swagger came to an abrupt halt just inside the door, a shocked look on his face as he gazed from her to the smoking cigar.

It was a moment before Eden could discern the reason for the man’s perplexity, and when she did, she almost laughed aloud. While she could easily see Devlin’s fingers wrapped around the fat roll of tobacco, Tilton could not. To him, it appeared the cigar was balanced on the edge of her desk, and he undoubtedly assumed she had been the one puffing away at it.

He proved her conjecture upon speaking. “Uh, Miss Winters. I... ah ... that is, I had no idea you enjoyed a good cigar now and again.”

Eden reached out and slipped the cigar from Devlin’s hold, careful not to touch him while taking it between her own slim fingers. “There are a great number of things you do not know about me, Mr. Tilton,” she informed him tartly. “Did you have some business to discuss with me?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, recalling his purpose. He handed over a scrap of paper, along with a handful of coins. “This needs to be logged into the account book you’re working on, so I thought it best to run it straight over to the office myself.”

“I see. And what is this in reference to, please?”

“ ’Tis the payment from Captain Stuber this mornin’. His crew is almost finished unloading their vessel, and that corsair ship is next up at the dock. If you’ll forgive my saying so, I wish you had consulted me first, before dealing with those pirates. ’Tain’t good practice to trade with that sort these days, Miss Winters.”

“I’m well aware of that, Mr. Tilton. The responsibility will rest on my head if anything goes awry, so ease your mind on that score.”

Though he still appeared uncomfortable with the situation, he gave a brusque nod.

Meanwhile, Devlin slid a peek at the receipt Eden set conveniently aside for him. It came as no great surprise to see that the figure listed thereon was but a fraction of the actual amount received. As were the funds for Eden’s cash box. When she glanced his way, he pointed to the money and shook his head, silently telling her it was not the sum he’d witnessed being exchanged on the dock.

“Why is it that Captain Stuber’s men are unloading their own ship? Is that not what we pay our men to do?” Eden asked suddenly, catching Tilton off guard.

The man drew himself up haughtily, as if offended that she should question him on a matter under his jurisdiction. “Yes, ’m,” he said stiffly, “but the captain insisted. Mayhap he thought his cargo more delicate than our hands could manage.”

One brow raised over a turquoise eye. “Perhaps he was right, Mr. Tilton. It has come to my attention that a few of our workers have become sluggards on the job. By the end of the day, I will have formed a list of the names of the persons I want you to dismiss. I will also see to hiring their replacements personally.”

If Tilton was taken aback at her previous conduct, he was now almost speechless. His face froze, his mouth half-open, then took on a ruddy complexion with his rising anger. “Now wait just a minute, missy,” he objected loudly. “I’ve managed this business since your father turned it over to my keeping, and I’ll keep on running it the way I see fit. It’s one thing for you to come in here and make a show of trying to do the books, but quite another when you go poking your nose into areas best left to me. The men, and the work they do, are under my direction.”

As Tilton’s voice rose, so did Devlin. Forsaking his slouched position, he straightened, his arms no longer crossed over his broad chest. His hand hovered at the hilt of his cutlass in an expectant stance, ready to take action the instant Tilton should threaten Eden in any way. A glower darkened his features, his black eyes smoldering.

Eden pretended to ignore Devlin’s unspoken defense, though she couldn’t help but be grateful for it. Portraying a nonchalance she did not feel, she flicked the ashes from the end of the cigar and calmly studied the glowing tip. “Feel free to add your name to my list if you wish, Mr. Tilton,” she told him coolly. “Though I would hate to lose you at this juncture.”

Her gaze swept up to clash with his, her demeanor almost regal as she added, “However, let us not lose sight of who owns this business, sir. While I have appreciated your efforts on behalf of my mother and myself, we are still paying your wages. And as your employer, I feel it only proper to involve myself in some of the management, and that now includes the hiring and firing of those who work for me.”

“What about Mr. Finster? Does he agree with this?” Tilton blurted out.

“Explain yourself, please, Mr. Tilton,” Eden requested, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What say would Mr. Finster possibly have in my decisions?”

“None, as yet, I reckon,” Tilton admitted with a slight grimace, as if regretting his risky outburst. “But ’tis common knowledge he’s courting you, and only a matter of time before you marry. I assumed you would consult him about any major changes concerning the warehouse.”

“You assumed wrongly. Furthermore, I do not appreciate having my private affairs bandied about to one and all.” She paused, contemplated the cigar she held, and promptly brought it to her lips.

Devlin held his breath, torn between laughter and concern, as Eden gave a dainty pull upon it. To his surprise, she had enough wits about her not to attempt to swallow the mouthful of smoke. Rather, she puffed it out again, straight into Tilton’s stupefied face.

“Now, are you staying with us, Mr. Tilton?” she asked imperiously, her voice slightly huskier than before. “Or shall I look for your replacement as well?” 

“With respect for your father’s wishes, I’ll keep on,” he grated out, almost choking on his own words, if not the smoke she’d blown in his face.

“Fine. Then our conversation is concluded for now,” she said, dismissing him with a nod toward the door. “Please remember to stop by the office at the end of the day for that list of former workers.”

Tilton had hardly closed the door behind him when Devlin let loose a roar of laughter. “Oh, lady!” he crowed. “That was a fancy piece of work! And you are a wondrously shrewd vixen! Why, if you were a lad, you’d have the makings of a fine pirate!”

“If I were a man, I wouldn’t be in the straits I find myself now,” she reminded him sourly. Then her recently revived humor asserted itself, and she giggled. “Did you see the look on his face when he first spied the cigar? Lands, but I’m glad your hand was resting on the desk at the time, and the cigar not suspended in air!”

“Aye, but now he’ll be telling tales about Spinster Winters and her outlandish habits and her high-handed affectations.”

At this, Eden sobered. “I suppose he shall, but there’s no help for it now. I’ll simply have to hope few people believe him. After all, I have lived all my life in Charles Town, and folks know how circumspect I am.” 

“All prudish and proper and prickly?” Devlin offered, but he chuckled. “They don’t know you very well, do they, Eden? All these people who have watched you grow to womanhood. Have they never seen your sharp wit or your impish humor? Have they no suspicion of the fires that lurk just behind your priggish appearance? The surge of emotion lying but a scratch beneath your calm surface?”

“Hah! You are endowing me with traits to fit your own schemes. I am merely a shrewish old maid with a needle tongue and more willfulness than wits.”

“Nay, minx.” He leaned across the littered desk and trapped her chin in his warm, calloused fingers. His black eyes blazed into hers, all the brighter now that they were touching. “You are a siren just awakening, scarcely aware of her own powers, making the smallest of ripples upon the water as yet. Devil take me, but I want to be the man to tap your capabilities to their fullest, to burn in the heat of your consuming flames, to plumb the heights and depths of your fathomless passions. I want to stir your desires and shake loose the real woman hiding inside.”

As if to fit action to words, he plucked the pins from her hair, releasing the looped braid at her nape. Despite her protestations and futile attempts to stop him, he used his long fingers to swiftly unplait it. Then he caught the flowing mass into both fists at either side of her head, letting it cascade across her shoulders to pool onto the desk.

“Magnificent!” he marveled softly. “Just as I knew it would be.” His gaze widened as if he’d just discovered the most precious treasure. “And just look what I have found! Unless my eyes deceive me, there is a hint of red amidst these tendrils of mud-brown. Like a flickering flame, tucked carefully away and nearly extinguished within the confines of your pins. Was that by intent, sweetling? Are you embarrassed to have your true colors shine forth? Hiding your light under a bushel, so to speak?”

She tried to pull her hair from his hands, but he held fast. ‘There you go again, spouting Biblical verse,” she sniped, thinking to turn the tables on him.

But Devlin was onto something now, and not about to be steered in another direction. “Why do you wear your hair in such a severe fashion, Eden, when it is so glorious this way?”

“Glorious?” she sneered. “Oh, Captain! You have such a glib tongue, when you know full well that all I sport is a frizzy puff of curls atop my head. And yes, I do try to hide the red, just as I try to tame my unmanageable mop into a more presentable style.”

“More presentable to whom?” he badgered. “To yourself, or to that town full of idiots who couldn’t distinguish a pearl from a pea?”

“Both,” she admitted on a resigned sigh. “Don’t you see? As much as I might wish to wear my hair differently, I can’t. Not unless I want to solicit more notice to my stature. The prettier coiffures invariably make me seem even taller and thinner than I already am. And the redder hues only draw even more attention toward me.”

“Which you would move heaven and earth to avoid,” he guessed. At her nod, he shook his head in mockery at her. “Eden, Eden. What are we to do with you, my shy beauty? What will it take, I wonder, to convince you of your own worth?”

“I have my fair share of pride,” she assured him wryly.

“Aye. I’m sure you do. But where is your vanity, woman? Where did you come by the mistaken notion that standing taller than most is uncomely? Or possessing a trim body unlovely? Who put such asinine ideas into your head? Those same nincompoops who need a footstool to see over an anthill and can’t view their own feet for their fat?”

Laughter bubbled up from some glad spot inside her, spewing forth in a joyous peal of trilling tones, like bells on Christmas morn. Tears of mirth welled in her turquoise eyes, turning them to sparkling jewels. “Oh, Devlin! I truly can’t decide if you are going to be my saving grace or my downfall. In a few short hours you have managed to reawaken my sadly languishing sense of merriment, spark my usually serene temper, and raise my flagging esteem. You are either awfully good for me, or terribly, terribly bad.”

“I hope to be both, my adorable spitfire-in-spinster’s-disguise,” he said with a wolfish smile. “Have I told you how enchanting you are when you laugh? Almost as bewitching as when you are angry.”

Her attempt at a scowl was ruined by a silly grin, accompanied by tinkling laughter. “You are an incorrigible jackanape, Devlin Kane! A master flatterer, and a dyed-in-the-wool rogue!”