Free The Lady of Bolton Hill by Elizabeth Camden Page B

into his tea before she served it to him with a smile.
    Two hours later, just after Bane had begun studying the import regulations in Canadian shipping ports, Mrs. Garfield returned with a slice of steaming peach pie. “Here you are, Alex.” She set down the plate as well as a glass of milk. “Peach pie, just as you requested. And the Professor asked me to give you this file that arrived in today’s mail. He said you would understand its importance.”
    Tucked beneath Mrs. Garfield’s arm had been a fat envelope she now extended to him. “Excellent!” Bane said, with no need to feign enthusiasm this time. For weeks he had been anxiously awaiting this delivery from Baltimore. He pushed the books to the far side of the table and tore open the envelope.
    “Is there anything else you need?” Mrs. Garfield asked. When Bane shook his head, she nodded and backed out of the library. “Very good,” she said just before leaving. “I’m going to change the linen in the tower room. I’ll be up there preparing the room, if you need anything else.”
    Bane merely nodded, completely engrossed in the pages of information he pulled from the envelope. A grainy photograph of Daniel Tremain accompanied a newspaper article documenting the recent developments in Carr & Tremain Polytechnic. The Professor had a scheme up his sleeve to get the better of Tremain and was trusting Bane to lead the mission. He was young to be taking on this level of responsibility, but the prize the Professor dangled was too tempting for Bane to resist. If Bane could succeed in knocking Tremain out of business, the reward would be huge.
    Canada.
    The Professor had offered control of the Canadian opium trade to Bane.
    At last, Bane could move thousands of miles away from the Professor to oversee their smuggling operations in Canada. Vancouver was as far as Bane could conceivably distance himself from the Professor yet still partake in the criminal empire that had made them all rich. Not that Bane cared much about money. It was power he craved. The ability to control his own destiny had been stripped from him when he was a six-year-old child, and nothing was more tantalizing than being able to take back control of his own life.
    For months he had been studying everything there was to know about his future home. It had been a joy to devour every book he could find about Canadian history and culture. On his bedroom wall, he tacked a series of postcards that depicted the burgeoning town of Vancouver, and every night he stared at those pictures as he drifted off to sleep. A newly constructed townhouse overlooking the bay of Barkley Sound was where he would live. It was within walking distance of a library and had easy access to the ports for business purposes. He would still have to answer to the Professor, but with thousands of miles between them, he would have room to breathe for the first time in his life.
    But only if he passed the Professor’s test. Bane studied the article about Daniel Tremain, and after a few minutes, a slow smile curved his mouth.
    It was as he suspected. Daniel Tremain was a brilliant innovator, but he was also reckless and hotheaded. A man ruled by a volatile temper was easy to manipulate. Bane had learned how to suppress those inconvenient emotions and rely on cool, clearheaded logic to control a situation. How interesting it would be to match wits with Daniel Tremain. Bane pushed the article aside and looked at the next page, a short biographical summary of Tremain’s life. It said the man obtained his first patent when he was only twenty-one years old and had filed a steady stream of them ever since.
    Bane studied the photograph. It was hard not to admire a man who had risen so quickly without the benefit of fancy schools or family connections. Would he really be able to best the man? In a battle of logic versus passion, who would win?
    Then, suddenly, a thought that had been niggling at the back of his mind came to the forefront.