actually contributed anything to either the Association or England. Except himself, of course.”
Cursing, Bennett pounded his fist against the railing. He knew what it meant; once Thrushell sat on the Association board, Langley would have the next available expedition. And the one man who knew for certain that Langley wasn’t fit to lead anything would never be allowed within a league of the Association, much less gain their support for another expedition. “I suppose you voted your approval,” he growled.
“I did not. I happen to believe your account, and I don’t want the father of a fraud helping shape the direction of African exploration. Nor do I want to be associated with that family when you’re able to recover your own standing.”
Bennett faced him. “Thank you.”
“You know, I had a chance to invite Langley to join the Adventurers’ Club back when we all thought you were dead. At times I admire my own perception.” He straightened, heading for the door back into the ballroom. “Don’t disappoint me, Captain.”
As the duke left the balcony, Bennett turned to look out over the torch-lit garden. Every instinct he possessed shouted at him to ride to Dover and get back his journals before Langley managed either to destroy them or to put them beyond his reach. He was fairly certain, though, that the journals weren’t with Langley. If he went charging about now, David would know precisely what he intended, and he would never see his writings again. He would never have proof that he had led the expedition while Langley had whined and bullied his way through the Congo and nearly gotten them killed on more than one occasion.
No, he needed to stay precisely where he was and make Langley wonder what game he meant to play. And he had to continue allowing his supposed peers to tell their harrowing stories of foxhunting and to chuckle at him behind his back. He would strike when the moment was right, and not until then.
All of which also allowed him to see to something that had taken hold of him and refused to let go, whatever the rest of his troubles. He meant to get his hands on Phillipa Eddison, and he meant to do it soon.
Chapter Seven
For weeks the thick canopy of leaves all but hid the sky. Then one evening we camped atop a ridge. As night fell, the sky opened up. Thousands of stars, thick enough to walk upon. And brightest of all, the Southern Cross. She is a reminder that I am on an adventure unlike any I’ve ever attempted. I seek her out now whenever I glimpse the sky, for to my eyes she is the prettiest girl in the room.
T="5%"HE="5%" J="5%"OURNALS OF="5%" C="5%"APTAIN="5%" B="5%"ENNETT="5%" W="5%"OLFE
P hillipa’s pulse jumped as Bennett crossed the room. It seemed, to her at least, as though every other guest present paused in what they were doing to turn and watch him. Large and lean and graceful, even though it seemed too obvious to think so, he reminded her of nothing so much as a panther on the prowl. For her.
He stopped in front of her. “This is our dance,” he said, and held out his hand.
“Where’s Kero?”
“Back in the palm tree. She seems to like it there. Come along.”
Putting on a smile to cover her sudden nerves, Phillipa gripped his warm fingers and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “I’ll return in a few minutes, Mama.”
“Take your time, my dear. Your father has promised to keep me company.”
Curving his fingers around hers, Bennett pulled her toward the dance floor. “Your mother,” he said in a low voice, glancing past her. “She’s not well?”
“She’s recovering from a lung ailment. This is her first outing in over a fortnight.”
“You’re good to watch her.”
Phillipa tilted her head. “You wrote in Walking with Pharaohs that your mother died of a chill when you were nine. It made me feel…lucky, to still have mine.”
Green eyes held hers. “Thank you. You’re the first person I’ve met who’s mentioned that book without
Cursing, Bennett pounded his fist against the railing. He knew what it meant; once Thrushell sat on the Association board, Langley would have the next available expedition. And the one man who knew for certain that Langley wasn’t fit to lead anything would never be allowed within a league of the Association, much less gain their support for another expedition. “I suppose you voted your approval,” he growled.
“I did not. I happen to believe your account, and I don’t want the father of a fraud helping shape the direction of African exploration. Nor do I want to be associated with that family when you’re able to recover your own standing.”
Bennett faced him. “Thank you.”
“You know, I had a chance to invite Langley to join the Adventurers’ Club back when we all thought you were dead. At times I admire my own perception.” He straightened, heading for the door back into the ballroom. “Don’t disappoint me, Captain.”
As the duke left the balcony, Bennett turned to look out over the torch-lit garden. Every instinct he possessed shouted at him to ride to Dover and get back his journals before Langley managed either to destroy them or to put them beyond his reach. He was fairly certain, though, that the journals weren’t with Langley. If he went charging about now, David would know precisely what he intended, and he would never see his writings again. He would never have proof that he had led the expedition while Langley had whined and bullied his way through the Congo and nearly gotten them killed on more than one occasion.
No, he needed to stay precisely where he was and make Langley wonder what game he meant to play. And he had to continue allowing his supposed peers to tell their harrowing stories of foxhunting and to chuckle at him behind his back. He would strike when the moment was right, and not until then.
All of which also allowed him to see to something that had taken hold of him and refused to let go, whatever the rest of his troubles. He meant to get his hands on Phillipa Eddison, and he meant to do it soon.
Chapter Seven
For weeks the thick canopy of leaves all but hid the sky. Then one evening we camped atop a ridge. As night fell, the sky opened up. Thousands of stars, thick enough to walk upon. And brightest of all, the Southern Cross. She is a reminder that I am on an adventure unlike any I’ve ever attempted. I seek her out now whenever I glimpse the sky, for to my eyes she is the prettiest girl in the room.
T="5%"HE="5%" J="5%"OURNALS OF="5%" C="5%"APTAIN="5%" B="5%"ENNETT="5%" W="5%"OLFE
P hillipa’s pulse jumped as Bennett crossed the room. It seemed, to her at least, as though every other guest present paused in what they were doing to turn and watch him. Large and lean and graceful, even though it seemed too obvious to think so, he reminded her of nothing so much as a panther on the prowl. For her.
He stopped in front of her. “This is our dance,” he said, and held out his hand.
“Where’s Kero?”
“Back in the palm tree. She seems to like it there. Come along.”
Putting on a smile to cover her sudden nerves, Phillipa gripped his warm fingers and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “I’ll return in a few minutes, Mama.”
“Take your time, my dear. Your father has promised to keep me company.”
Curving his fingers around hers, Bennett pulled her toward the dance floor. “Your mother,” he said in a low voice, glancing past her. “She’s not well?”
“She’s recovering from a lung ailment. This is her first outing in over a fortnight.”
“You’re good to watch her.”
Phillipa tilted her head. “You wrote in Walking with Pharaohs that your mother died of a chill when you were nine. It made me feel…lucky, to still have mine.”
Green eyes held hers. “Thank you. You’re the first person I’ve met who’s mentioned that book without
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