Free Surrender the Dawn by MaryLu Tyndall

have not,” Miss Channing retorted. “In fact, I believe I have finally found them. Perhaps you should attempt to find yours.”
    Luke shifted his gaze over his friends to seek some measure of sympathy, but the satisfied smirk remained on Noah’s lips.
    “My ability to captain my ship has nothing to do with how I choose to entertain myself.” Luke’s gaze latched on the banknote on the table. He licked his lips. Thoughts of John and Mrs. Barnes stabbed his conscience.They’d be out on the street within a fortnight if he did not procure the rent. And no one else was foolish enough to invest their money with him. Yes,
foolish
was the word that came to mind when he gazed into those sparkling emerald eyes—foolish and brave and determined.
    And exquisitely beautiful.
    “Well, what will it be, Mr. Heaton?” the customs agent said. “I don’t have all night.” Again, he flipped open his pocket watch and stared at it as if wishing it could transport him to another place.
    Miss Channing placed one delicate hand on her hip. “I’ll not have you besotted while out at sea, Mr. Heaton, putting the crew, the ship, and my investment at risk.”
    Luke ground his teeth together. “I assure you, miss, besotted or not, I’m the best captain you’ll find in Baltimore.” He glanced at Noah. “Present company excluded, of course.”
    Noah nodded with an amused smile.
    “Nevertheless, I’ll not have my money squandered on rum and ineptitude.” Miss Channing snatched the note from the table. Determination glinted in her eyes.
    Luke clenched his fists as the decree built an iron cage around his will. But he had no choice. He couldn’t let John down again. He owed him a life, a future.
    Not a legacy of failure.
    All eyes were on him. Miss Channing held the banknote before her like a gold doubloon before a pirate—like a last sip of rum to a man long deprived of drink.
    Which was precisely what it meant to Luke. He shifted his stance. “Very well. I promise not to partake of drink while I’m sailing. But when I come ashore, I will do as I please.”
    Marianne touched Miss Channing’s arm and nodded. “That certainly seems fair enough.”
    Miss Channing pursed her lips. “No rum on board the ship at all.”
    “My crew will not like that, miss.”
    “I care not a whit what your crew likes, Mr. Heaton. Those are my terms.”
    Luke swallowed and stared down at the woven rug beneath his boots, then across the bemused faces of his friends before finally shifting his gaze to Miss Channing. “Very well, you have my word.”
    Mr. McCulloch cleared his throat. “Do say you’ll sign the papers now, Miss Channing?”
    But instead of the satisfied smirk Luke expected to see on her face, she turned to Noah and Marianne with a look of apprehension.
    Noah nodded. “Mr. Heaton’s word is good, Cassandra.”
    Luke flinched at the compliment even as his heart swelled. Noah had never expressed such faith in him before. A sudden sense of unworthiness struck him. Could he live up to such an affirmation?
    With a sigh of resignation, Miss Channing leaned once again over the document. Her hand trembled, sending the pen’s feathers quivering. She didn’t trust him. But how could he blame her when he didn’t trust himself?
    Snatching the signed documents, Mr. McCulloch stuffed them inside his satchel and bid them good evening as he charged out of the parlor, yelling over his shoulder that he would see himself out.
    Miss Channing held the banknote out to Luke. He tugged on it. She wouldn’t let go. Her gaze skittered from him to Noah, then Marianne. Her chest rose and fell beneath the lace trim of her saffron gown. Finally she relinquished it into his hand, following it with her eyes all the way into Luke’s waistcoat pocket.
    But what was one thousand dollars to the great Channing merchant business? Surely she had plenty more where that came from.
    Grabbing her reticule and fan, Cassandra embraced Marianne, thanked Noah, and headed