More Than You Know Read Free Page A

years ago. Surely there would be more practical ways of taking Henley back."
    Rand shrugged. He wondered if Strickland considered murder a practical method. “You may be right."
    "I'm certain I am,” he said gravely. “And just as certain that you're privy to more information than you're willing to impart. That much of the legend, then, is true. Hamiltons don't trust anyone."
    "We prefer to think of ourselves as cautious. You only have to look at the Waterstones to understand why the Hamiltons chose a different course."
    "You're referring to the fact that the Waterstone family made no secret about their connection to the treasure."
    "I'm referring to the fact that the Waterstone family no longer exists. The last of them died twenty years ago, right here in London, set upon by thieves who hoped to gain the riddle."
    The duke watched Rand closely. “Some people say the thieves went by the name Hamilton, or were at least in the employ of Hamiltons."
    Rand shrugged. “I've heard that. It's natural, given the animosity that grew between James Hamilton and Henry Waterstone, that stories like that would attach themselves to the legend. To hear my family tell it, the reason Henley Hamilton left England was to protect his wife and children from coming under a Waterstone knife. I think it was more likely that Henley wanted to be certain that none of his children attached themselves to any Waterstone through marriage."
    The duke approached his desk again, this time ignoring his usual seat in favor of taking the companion chair closer to Rand. “And that brings me to this,” he said. “Is it really possible for you to find this treasure without a Waterstone to assist you?"
    "You're talking about the Waterstone riddle."
    "Yes,” Strickland said. “Is it in your possession?"
    Rand chuckled softly. “Now that would be giving something away. I don't think I'll answer."
    "But you have the Hamilton riddle? It does exist?"
    It was not clear to Rand if Strickland was asking for a confirmation or simply fishing. It was time to cut line. Rand placed his drink on the side table and settled back in his chair. “What is the precise nature of your interest in the treasure, your grace?"
    "It belongs here,” he said.
    "The Spaniards would disagree, I think. The story goes it was their treasure first."
    "Yes,” the duke said gruffly. “But then they should have bloody well taken care not to lose it."
    Rand laughed out loud. “And my ancestor and Henry Waterstone? What did they do but lose it?"
    "Safeguarded it, Captain. If they had not had a falling-out, most of the treasure would have found its way into the queen's coffers."
    "Perhaps that's what they wanted to avoid.” He saw the duke start. “That never occurred to you? Surely they would not be the first privateers to try to hold back something from the queen. Perhaps you're thinking I shouldn't say it so easily, or at least that I should be embarrassed by the admission, but it was a long time ago, your grace, and being more thoroughly American than English, there's some bit of pride among the Hamiltons that our common sire got away with it."
    Because Strickland looked as if he might choke, Rand got up and retrieved the duke's glass from the mantel. He filled it with another finger of Scotch and handed it over. “I can't say that it doesn't trouble me that you'd want to turn over your share of the treasure to the British Museum, or even that you'd give some part of it back to the queen. But then, if you support my next voyage and it's successful, you may do anything you like with your portion."
    "And what of the claim the Spanish government will make?"
    "What of it? No court but a Spanish one will take the claim seriously. As you said, they should have bloody well not lost it."
    The duke's mouth lost some of its stiffness as he smiled thinly. He raised his glass in salute. “Damn if I didn't. And bloody good for me.” He finished off the drink in a single swallow. “So this leaves