More Than You Know Read Free Page B

us precisely where?"
    Rand wondered if the effects of the Scotch on the duke would work in his favor. “I imagine at the point of discussing your stake."
    "My offer of three thousand pounds remains unchanged."
    Rand said nothing. It was a generous contribution and Strickland knew it. It was also in the nature of a bribe.
    "Very well,” Strickland said after a protracted silence. “I can give you as much as four thousand. But no more."
    "The terms? Are they also unchanged?"
    "I'd expect a full third of the treasure, not a quarter. And I still expect you to take my goddaughter."
    Rand came out of his chair in a fluid motion. “No.” He glanced over his shoulder, almost expecting to find her there in the background again, silent and watchful, effortlessly making herself unobtrusive. Impatient now, believing there could be no resolution or compromise, Rand's fingers raked his copper hair as his eyes settled on the door.
    "Are you not even going to ask why?” Strickland said.
    Rand looked frankly at the duke. “You've missed my point if you think the why of it matters to me. My answer is no. It will remain no. I'm not playing nursemaid to Miss Bancroft, and I won't ask it of my men. She needs to stay right here in England and recover from her broken engagement, stubbed toe, hangnail, or—"
    "You're referring to her ordeal, I believe."
    There was a certain cutting edge to the duke's tone that Rand did not miss. Clearly Strickland was unhappy with his characterization of Miss Bancroft's experience as being of little account. “I apologize,” he said stiffly, the words and manner not coming easily to him, not in these circumstances. “It was unfair to trivialize Miss Bancroft's affliction. It is none of my concern and I would not have you make it so. She can be no part of this voyage."
    "If she were my godson, Captain Hamilton? What then?"
    "My answer would be the same.” Strickland's skepticism was evident. “You don't believe me?” asked Rand. “Then make the same request for yourself.” Rand saw that this rejoinder captured the duke's full attention. “You know it's true. No man who has put up money has been allowed to make the voyage; no man who has staked me couldn't afford to lose it. You sought me out. I would have looked for financing closer to home. John MacKenzie Worth has expressed interest. Carnegie. Vanderbilt. Rushton Holiday."
    "Apparently you have no qualms about accepting Yankee money."
    "None whatsoever. But they have to accept my terms. That means no one looking over my shoulder, tracking my route, or trying to cut me off from the treasure."
    "My God,” Strickland said softly. “You Hamiltons are a suspicious lot. That's not why I want my goddaughter to go with you."
    "No?” As soon as he heard himself say the word, inadvertently inviting an explanation, Rand held up his hand, palm out. “Don't tell me,” he said. “I don't want to know."
    "Then you're willing to pass on this opportunity to secure new backing?"
    "Your letter said I could expect to be reimbursed for the costs associated with my trip here."
    "Yes. Yes, of course. I'll write you a draft immediately if that's your wish."
    "It is."
    Strickland rose slowly. “I can't say that I'm not disappointed, Captain. I had hoped you would not be so intractable."
    Rand's slight smile did not touch the polished chestnut color of his eyes. “I also had hopes."
    The duke's gaze shifted away uncomfortably. He cleared his throat. “Yes, well...” Strickland rounded his desk and opened the middle drawer. He pulled out the ledger he kept there and in short order presented Rand with a draft.
    Rand glanced at the amount. “This is too generous. It's more than my costs."
    "I hope you will take it. And you need not worry that I expect something in return.” He watched Rand fold the cheque and place it inside his jacket. “When will you be leaving London?"
    "I've allowed myself and crew two full weeks. They may agree there is nothing to be gained by