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384 pages, ebook
First published January 29, 2008

He kept the pistol trained on the door and on her, but because he was Colin Eversea and he did it like breathing--the admiring of women--he couldn’t help but admire the line of her spine as she made her way up the stairs.

Without thinking, Colin handed over his corded bundle, and he watched, half bemused and half with a sort of pleasure, as her quick hands worked it open, unfolded the coat, and pulled--and pulled and pulled, as the tailors at Weston were rigorous and thorough and the threads unwilling to give way--a brass button free.

He tried a deep breath, but that was a mistake: inhaling merely sucked the sack into his nostrils. Colin managed to snort it back out again just as he was unceremoniously dumped into a chair, righted by two large hands planted on his shoulders when he began to trip, and abandoned.

His smile was rueful, but this time it reached his eyes. “I’m not. At least, I’m not certain they all will be happy. But I am certain you will be paid to return me to them. For we’ve honor, you see. We Everseas do.”
“Mr. Eversea, more specifically, it’s urgent that I am paid very quickly. I haven’t time to waste on-.”
“Well, I’m humbled,” Colin Eversea finally said.
“I doubt that,” she retorted dourly.
He laughed at that, and she shushed him.
Well, it was your objective , wasn’t it? Do you think my ego is so very impenetrable, Miss Greenway? That it’s impossible to wound me? He still sounded amused.
“Stop it,” Madeline said through teeth all but clenched.
“Stop what?”
“Stop trying to win me over, Mr. Eversea. It’s...unnecessary.”



Oh, if you thought ye’d never see
The death of Colin Eversea
Come along with me, lads, come along with me
For on a summer day he’ll swing
The pretty lad was mighty bad
So everybody sing!