Samantha (Barrett 2)

"What the hell kind of question is that?"

"The kind of question I ask before I commit tens of thousands of pounds to an investment. The kind of question asked by a cautious man who wants some assurances."

"I presume you're considering Barrett Shipping for the construction of this superior vessel of yours?"

"You presume correctly."

"Our record stands on its own."

"Really?" Rem inclined his head. "Wasn't yesterday's loss your second in the same number of months?"

"It was." A muscle worked in Drake's jaw. "And if you're implying that the losses were caused by poor workmanship or inferior materials, then I suggest you leave my home."

"I'm not implying anything." Rem finished his drink, unbothered by Drake's show of temper. "I'm merely trying to protect my investment."

"My company doesn't require any defense, and I don't require your business." Drake came to his feet.

"If I thought you did, I wouldn't be here." Rem held out his empty glass. "Another brandy, if you will, Your Grace."

Reluctant admiration flickered in Drake's eyes. "You're an insolent bastard, you know that, Gresham?"

"So I've been told."

Chuckling, Drake took the glass and refilled it. "Very well. What do you want to know?"

"I won't insult you by questioning your choice of workers. But I will ask what materials you use and what final steps you take to inspect your vessels prior to declaring them fit for sailing."

"Fair enough. Our ships are painstakingly designed, then constructed under strict supervision and to precise specifications in our own yard. We use the finest wood and canvas money can buy, not to mention the highest quality iron for our guns. Our engineers, machinists, and carpenters are unsurpassed in their abilities and are instructed to spare no expense in building consistently superior vessels. No corners are cut, ever, not in design, construction, or inspection. Once the ships are completed, I have my men scrutinize every deck for ill-fitted planking, check every sail for slack rigging and poor stitching ... right down to the smallest topgallant. I personally test each and every ship for seaworthiness. Is that procedure satisfactory enough to suit your needs?"

Rem raised his glass in tribute. "I'm impressed. Truly, I am. What you've just said will certainly influence my decision. I have a strong feeling I'll be doing business with you."

"That depends upon whether or not I choose to do business with you."

"Touché." Rem's eyes twinkled. "Then I return the favor. Go ahead and interrogate me—I'll answer any questions you have."

"All right." Drake lounged against his desk in a deceptively relaxed stance. "I hear you're short of funds. How do you plan to pay for this ship?"

Rem grinned broadly. "I'm happy to see you're thorough, Allonshire. It reassures me that my investment is in good hands. To answer your question, my business reverses were temporary. I've recouped all my losses. I can summon my banker here to verify my words, if you require proof."

"No. Your word is satisfactory." Drake's eyes narrowed. "What are you really up to, Gresham?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning this sudden urge to purchase a merchant ship. Meaning this business risk you're plunging into so impulsively. It's not at all like you. Your style has always been to scrupulously invest money while otherwise attending parties and bedding women. Why the change?"

Coolly, Rem shrugged. "Perhaps I'm bored. Or perhaps my instincts tell me this is a perfect way to scrupulously invest my money, as you put it. I know ships, Allonshire. Better than anyone else you do business with, I trust. Maybe it's time to put that knowledge to use." Rem arched a brow. "And you must admit, you and I would make an extraordinary team."

"We would indeed." Drake nodded. "I don't admire many men, but I find myself developing a grudging respect for you. Perhaps we can work well together at that." Broodingly, Drake stared into his glass. "Parrying aside, I think we should discuss the ongoing problem of the missing ships. The threat is very real, worsening, it seems, every day. I must admit I'm worried. Since I'm certain that, at least in the case of Barrett Shipping, carelessness is not a possibility, it makes me strongly suspect that terrorism is the true culprit here. That's not a pretty thought, not only for the shipping industry, but for all of England."

"I agree."

"As I mentioned earlier, I've hired a team of men to look into the situation. If you and I decide that my company will be constructing your vessel, I'll make certain to keep you apprised of what I learn.1'

Although he'd never actually suspected Drake was involved in the sinkings, Rem found himself impressed by the depth of the man's integrity. "I'd appreciate that. And now I'd like to officially commission Barrett Shipping to design and build my brig."

For a moment Drake's eyes delved into Rem, seemingly in search of something not readily perceived. Then he rose, extending his hand. "We have a deal, Gresham."

Rem clasped Drake's hand. "We'll meet next week to discuss my specifications—after your child is born."