cost of his head. So you see, it's in my blood, too. I would do ... no, I will do, whatever it takes to secure what is mine. We're not so different, you and I."
"Abberly Hall is still yours,” Rand said dryly. “So nothing's been taken from you."
"Yes, you're quite right ... about Abberly Hall."
Rand thought Strickland would go on, but the duke did not elaborate. After a moment Rand cut to the heart of the matter before them. “You must be aware that I want to accept your offer to sponsor my next voyage. I had hoped it was made sincerely and with an understanding of the terms given to my previous sponsors."
"Sponsors?” Strickland asked, his tone scoffing. “They were gamblers. I'm not. I want something in exchange for the funds I'm prepared to release to you. I need more than mere assurances that I will share in the Hamilton-Waterstone treasure. That the treasure exists at all is the stuff of legends. I'm taking a sizable risk just by taking you at your word. And you've offered no real proof that, if found, you can rightfully make a claim to it."
"I'm a Hamilton."
"There are hundreds of Hamiltons. Thousands, more likely. You can't all be descendants of Hamilton-Waterstone."
One corner of Rand's mouth curved upward. “It's worth considering, don't you think, unless you're questioning if we're all descendants of Adam?"
Strickland raised his glass appreciatively. “Very well. Darwin's notions aside, you have me there.” He finished his drink and poured another, half as much as he'd had before.
"In any event,” Rand continued. “Hamilton-Waterstone is not one man, but two, and I believe you know that. Did you think I wouldn't?"
"I had to be sure. You're an American, after all. The treasure is our legend."
"And it's my legacy. James Hamilton was my grandfather times seven greats. It was his grandson who settled in South Carolina in 1626. His son, grandsons, and all the greats, were born there, most of them at Henley."
"Henley is your plantation."
"Was,” Rand corrected. “It's been renamed Conquered by the current owner."
"Conquered?” Strickland asked, frowning.
"Did I say that?” Rand's dry smile appeared briefly and there was a touch of feigned innocence in his eyes. “I meant Concord. Believe me, the similarity of the name is no accident. Orrin Foster gave the renaming of Henley a lot of thought before he arrived at one that suited him.” And he had wasted no time in making certain Rand found out about it.
"All the more reason for you to find the treasure,” the duke said. He stood and walked to the fireplace. Placing his glass on the mantel, Strickland poked at the fire, then added another log. When he turned, his brow was knit thoughtfully. “Tell me, if Henley were still in your possession, would you have this interest in locating the treasure?"
Rand did not have to consider the question before he answered. “No. Finding the treasure was Shelby's idea of adventure. David and I humored him. As children the three of us would play at treasure hunting, and it was Shelby who was always allowed to find the booty.” Rand leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. He rolled his drink in his palms in an absent gesture. “The truth is, your grace, for a long time I didn't believe there was a treasure. I'm not certain that my father did either. I never knew my grandfather, but there's some indication that he and Shelby were of a like mind. I don't know how far you'd have to go back after that to find someone who gave the treasure much credence. Uncles. Great-uncles. No one that I knew did any actual treasure hunting."
"Until you."
Rand nodded, his smile a little grim now. “Until me."
"And now? You believe it exists?"
"I have to, don't I?” he said carelessly. “Else it would make these last ten years of looking for it a lie."
The duke's expression was considering. “You don't strike me as a man who chases a legend down at a whim. Such a man as that would have given up the quest
"Abberly Hall is still yours,” Rand said dryly. “So nothing's been taken from you."
"Yes, you're quite right ... about Abberly Hall."
Rand thought Strickland would go on, but the duke did not elaborate. After a moment Rand cut to the heart of the matter before them. “You must be aware that I want to accept your offer to sponsor my next voyage. I had hoped it was made sincerely and with an understanding of the terms given to my previous sponsors."
"Sponsors?” Strickland asked, his tone scoffing. “They were gamblers. I'm not. I want something in exchange for the funds I'm prepared to release to you. I need more than mere assurances that I will share in the Hamilton-Waterstone treasure. That the treasure exists at all is the stuff of legends. I'm taking a sizable risk just by taking you at your word. And you've offered no real proof that, if found, you can rightfully make a claim to it."
"I'm a Hamilton."
"There are hundreds of Hamiltons. Thousands, more likely. You can't all be descendants of Hamilton-Waterstone."
One corner of Rand's mouth curved upward. “It's worth considering, don't you think, unless you're questioning if we're all descendants of Adam?"
Strickland raised his glass appreciatively. “Very well. Darwin's notions aside, you have me there.” He finished his drink and poured another, half as much as he'd had before.
"In any event,” Rand continued. “Hamilton-Waterstone is not one man, but two, and I believe you know that. Did you think I wouldn't?"
"I had to be sure. You're an American, after all. The treasure is our legend."
"And it's my legacy. James Hamilton was my grandfather times seven greats. It was his grandson who settled in South Carolina in 1626. His son, grandsons, and all the greats, were born there, most of them at Henley."
"Henley is your plantation."
"Was,” Rand corrected. “It's been renamed Conquered by the current owner."
"Conquered?” Strickland asked, frowning.
"Did I say that?” Rand's dry smile appeared briefly and there was a touch of feigned innocence in his eyes. “I meant Concord. Believe me, the similarity of the name is no accident. Orrin Foster gave the renaming of Henley a lot of thought before he arrived at one that suited him.” And he had wasted no time in making certain Rand found out about it.
"All the more reason for you to find the treasure,” the duke said. He stood and walked to the fireplace. Placing his glass on the mantel, Strickland poked at the fire, then added another log. When he turned, his brow was knit thoughtfully. “Tell me, if Henley were still in your possession, would you have this interest in locating the treasure?"
Rand did not have to consider the question before he answered. “No. Finding the treasure was Shelby's idea of adventure. David and I humored him. As children the three of us would play at treasure hunting, and it was Shelby who was always allowed to find the booty.” Rand leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. He rolled his drink in his palms in an absent gesture. “The truth is, your grace, for a long time I didn't believe there was a treasure. I'm not certain that my father did either. I never knew my grandfather, but there's some indication that he and Shelby were of a like mind. I don't know how far you'd have to go back after that to find someone who gave the treasure much credence. Uncles. Great-uncles. No one that I knew did any actual treasure hunting."
"Until you."
Rand nodded, his smile a little grim now. “Until me."
"And now? You believe it exists?"
"I have to, don't I?” he said carelessly. “Else it would make these last ten years of looking for it a lie."
The duke's expression was considering. “You don't strike me as a man who chases a legend down at a whim. Such a man as that would have given up the quest
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