Blackhearts (16 page)

Nevertheless, he had ulterior motives and was glad they

hadn’t. Leaving Anne to tidy the kitchen, he replaced the rugs

in their proper rooms.

In less than twenty minutes Sara and Mary were gone.

Anne had just swept the floor when Teach reappeared, a

swath of wine-red velvet in his hands. She returned the broom to the pantry and cleaned her hands before drying them with a rag.

“Here,” he said.

“What is it, sir?” Anne asked, fingering the smooth material.

“Does it need mending?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Put it on,” he said.

Her eyes flew to his face. “Why?”

“Because you can’t go out riding in that dress of yours.”

Anne took a step back and looked toward the door, as if to

determine how far Sara and Mary were.

Teach’s eyebrows drew together. This was not the reaction

he’d been hoping for. “Well, don’t just stand there. Go upstairs and put it on.”

She stood rooted to the spot. “I’m not going riding, sir.”

“Yes, you are. You’re coming with me.”

She swallowed. “Where?”

Impatiently he gestured toward the courtyard. “Out there.

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In the country. You’re going to get on a horse and ride.” He’d thought Anne was different. Could it be that she disliked the

outdoors as much as Patience?

“And if I choose not to?”

Teach gave her an incredulous look. “Why would you do

that?”

“Because you’ve just given everyone the day off.”

Teach ran his fingers through his hair. “Yes, I know I did. I

did it for you.”

Anne placed the dress on the back of a chair. “I would pre-

fer to spend my day off alone.”

Frustration flared in his chest. “Well, you don’t have much

of a choice. They’ve left you. I’m the only one here now.”

She looked toward the door. “I could catch up to them.

They can’t be far.”

He shook his head, his chin jutting forward. “No.”

“You cannot make me stay.”

“I have no desire to make you do anything. I was hoping

you would choose for yourself.” She opened her mouth, no

doubt to protest, but once again he read her mind. “And don’t

tell me you can’t ride. You said your father taught you.” He

folded his arms across his chest, blocking her only escape.

Anne laughed, the sound shrill with nerves. “You’re mad.”

“Not yet. But I’m getting there. What will it take to get you

to spend the day with me?”

“I just spent the past several days with you,” she reminded him.

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“Ah, but that doesn’t count. I was ill.”

“You were not.”

Being around Anne kept him on his toes. “Technically, I

was for four of those days. But we spent only a few hours in

each other’s company. Today I wish to change that.”

Anne was speechless. He was well aware he’d given her no

way out of his trap. He lifted the dress from the back of the

chair and placed it gently in her arms. “I promise to behave

myself,” he said, reading the tension in her face.

“You’ve confessed to being a liar and a thief. Why should I

believe you, sir?” She stared at him, as if trying to understand why it was so important that they spend the day together.

The problem was, he couldn’t explain it himself. He just

knew he wanted to. “Because I’m telling you the truth.”

“It wouldn’t be proper. Your father has his rules—”

“Bugger the rules. I don’t care if it’s proper or not,” he

growled, determined to get his way. “And my father isn’t home

to find out. I would like to do something for you. Think of this as a reward for nursing me back to health.”

“You gave Mary and Sara the opportunity to do what they

wanted. Why can’t you afford me the same courtesy?”

“Tell me the truth, Anne. Would you rather go into the

city alone to buy yourself something new, or would you rather

spend some time away from here, riding horses and seeing a bit

of the countryside?”

“I would prefer to go to the city.”

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“Fine! I’ll give you more coins after we return from our ride.”

Anne paused for so long that Teach wondered if she had

paid attention.

“If I do this, will you leave me in peace?” she asked.

He hesitated. Ever since he’d set eyes on her, he’d had no

peace. Why should he grant her something that eluded him? “If

after today you find my company so abhorrent, I shall leave you

in peace for the remainder of my days in this house.”

Something in her expression changed. “You give me your

word?”

Teach held his hand up to his chest and bowed slightly at

the waist. “I give you my word.”

Anne nodded and took the red riding habit in her hands.

He had purposefully omitted the words “as a gentleman,”

for he knew she was not foolish enough to believe that.

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C H A P T E R 1 4

Anne

The person in the looking glass was a stranger, although the cap on Anne’s head was recognizable. The bruise from Margery was

not as terrible as she’d first thought, although the discoloration was obvious.

Anne could have counted on two hands the number of

times she’d checked her appearance in the past year. During

that time, she’d come to resemble her mother more than ever

before. Gone were the rounded apples of her cheeks. Instead

her face was now framed by high cheekbones, her neck long

and graceful. And the dark circles beneath her eyes were not as

pronounced today as they had been a month ago.

The riding habit was a little longer than she was used to,

the close-fitting jacket made of superior velvet. Anne marveled

at the color. Most of the ones she’d worn when she was younger

had been either blue or green. Teach had told her this had been

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his mother’s riding habit, and Anne admired Mrs. Drummond’s confidence to wear such a vibrant shade of red, like wine fresh

from a cask.

Anne told herself she dreaded the upcoming day she was

being forced to spend with Teach, but in reality there was a

light in her eyes and a flush on her face. Carrying the hat in her hands, she went out to the barn, excitement fluttering in her

breast at the thought of the excursion.

While the coins were a most welcome addition to her funds,

a ride through the countryside was irreplaceable. She liked to

think Teach had forced her hand. In a way he had. She could

have refused him, but then it would have just been the two of

them alone at the house.

On horseback Anne would have the ability to get away

from him, should he try anything inappropriate.

Anne met Teach as he led his black stallion out of its stall,

Margery’s three-legged cat following behind. What Anne

assumed to be her horse was already tethered to the post.

Teach looked up as she approached. For a moment he froze,

his mouth half-open as if he’d been about to say something.

In an attempt to hide her nervousness, she held out the hat

to him. “Here,” she said.

He cleared his throat and busied himself with the bridle,

but not before she saw a spark of something in his eyes. “You’ll need the hat.”

“I cannot wear it.”

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He stopped what he was doing. “Why not? You can’t ride in your cap. If somebody sees you, they’ll wonder what a maid is

doing out riding with her master.”

Irritation flashed through her at his words, even though

she knew he spoke the truth. “Whether I wear the hat or not, I

will still be just a maid. Changing my appearance will not alter that fact.”

“I don’t understand your reluctance. The outfit becomes

you. Simply put on the hat so we can ride.”

She ignored the surge of pleasure at his compliment, know-

ing he said it only to achieve his end. “It won’t work.”

He ran his fingers through his black hair. “By Jupiter, you

could drive a man to drink. Why? Why do you take every

opportunity to argue with me? If I were to say that the heavens

are blue, I daresay you’d contend that they were green. Do you

take pleasure in provoking me?”

Admittedly, there was a small part of her that did just that.

If she hadn’t worked in his father’s household, she would not

have had to curb her tongue as much as she did. It was a con-

stant struggle to control her feelings, thoughts, and actions. If she said what she was truly thinking, she would no doubt be

whipped to within an inch of her life. “You asked me to speak

honestly with you. I am simply telling you the truth. I cannot

wear it, because it won’t fit.”

He looked about to explode from his irritation. “Why, in

the bloody name of all that’s holy—”

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Before he could finish his outburst, she removed her cap.

Her thick black hair fell around her shoulders, and she placed

the hat on top of her head. It balanced there for a moment,

before toppling to the ground. Picking it up once more, Anne

tried again, this time jamming it down over her forehead. It was no use. The hat was too small, and she had too much hair.

“Now do you understand why I said I cannot wear it? It

wasn’t out of vanity or pride. I have no quarrel with you. It is simply not possible.” After placing the hat on a hook near the

barn door, she moved to gather her hair and restore the cap, but Teach stopped her.

“No, don’t,” he said, his voice gruff. “Let it hang loose.”

She paused, noting the glint in his eyes.

He took the cap from her hands and then held out her

horse’s bridle instead. Not waiting for a response, he led his own stallion from the barn into the courtyard.

Drawing in a deep breath, she followed him. With the reins

clenched in one hand, she walked toward the mounting block.

The heavy skirts hampered her first attempt to mount, for she

was out of practice.

“Allow me,” Teach murmured, stepping up behind her.

“Where is the groom?” Anne asked, looking around.

Teach hoisted her into the sidesaddle. “I gave him the day

off as well.”

Of course he had. Anne had never met anyone like Teach.

He was arrogant and driven, as was his father, but at the same

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time Teach was not above gestures of kindness or consideration, traits he had no doubt inherited from his mother.

Anne could still feel the imprints of his fingers long after

he withdrew his hands. Her heart hammered in her chest, and

she patted the horse’s neck, pretending to calm
her
down as she stepped sideways. “What’s her name?” Anne asked, waiting for

Teach to mount.

Shooting her a mischievous grin, he said, “Queen Anne.”

“You mock me,” she said.

He raised his hands. “What? No, I tell the truth. My father

bought her shortly before I returned.”

“Your father doesn’t believe in naming animals.” Upon her

arrival in the household, she had asked the others the names of

the different horses in the stables. No one had answered, for no one had known.

“Precisely, which is why
I
have decided to name her Queen Anne.”

“And your stallion’s name? Is it something equally ridicu-

lous? King Edward, perhaps?”

Teach’s grin deepened. “Don’t be silly. It’s Kaiser. Now, are

you ready?”

Kaiser
, the German word for “emperor.” “Yes, Your Excellency.”

“Good. Then follow me,” he called out, slapping his reins.

The stallion leapt ahead, and they took off. “If you can!”

Smiling, Anne did as he’d commanded, catching up to him

as he neared her favorite trees outside the property. That was

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the farthest she’d ventured in this direction since arriving in the household. Today would be different.

As the house faded in the distance, Anne leaned forward,

her breath catching in her throat. It was as if she were flying.

With the wind rushing through her hair, her skirts trailing

beneath her, Anne was free once more.

Teach reined his horse and rode beside her, the look on his

face matching hers. He could have outpaced her, for he rode

astride, but he adjusted his speed to hers.

Both of them knew the impropriety of their actions. If

anyone were to find out they’d left together, the consequences

would be dire.

But for the moment neither of them thought about the cost.

For several minutes the only sound that could be heard was

the horses’ hooves as they ate up the ground beneath them,

churning small clumps of earth.

On and on they rode, through fertile fields, toward the sur-

rounding woodlands. Every once in a while they passed a farm-

hand, laboring in the crops, but the riders were too far away and too fast for the laborers to give them more than a passing glance.

It was sometime later when Teach reined in his horse, slow-

ing down to a walk. It had been quite a while since they’d last

seen or heard a passerby. The city of Bristol was well behind

them in the distance. Anne pulled in beside him, aware of the

flush in her cheeks and the tangle of her hair.

“That was . . . amazing,” Anne said, unable to contain her

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joy. It reminded her of spending time with her father, before he’d become ill.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. While I was gone, I was almost

afraid I’d forget how to ride.”

Leaning forward, Anne patted her horse. “You can never

forget something like this.”

“You said your father taught you?”