Blackhearts (17 page)

“Yes, when he had access to horses,” she said, hoping to

steer clear of any personal conversations. She could have told

him her relation to Henry, but she would soon leave Bristol in

search of her mother’s family, and the less people knew of her

past, the better. “Who taught you?”

“My mother. She loved animals. When she was alive, the

stables were full. We had chickens, dogs, and cats, all living

harmoniously under one roof. After she died, my father had

them either killed or sent away.” Whenever Teach mentioned

his father, a hard mask slid over his features, making him look

much older and fiercer.

“So you didn’t ride for an entire year?” she asked, trying to

change the subject.

Teach paused, his head tilted to the side as he tried to

remember. “It must have been at least six months,” he said. “It

was on Jamaica, and I rode along the beach.”

Anne couldn’t help a slight tinge of jealousy. “That sounds

wonderful. Have you missed it?”

“Yes. But being away at sea was its own reward. I can’t imag-

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ine doing anything else.” As Teach spoke, there was a look of sadness in his eyes. She knew, if his father had his way, Teach

would not be returning to sea anytime soon.

Sympathy pierced Anne’s heart, for as long as Teach lived

under his father’s roof, Teach would have to do as he commanded.

They rode in silence for a time, each one lost in thought.

The guarded feeling Anne had whenever she entered the Drum-

mond household was gone now, replaced with a calm she hadn’t

known for quite a while.

“Let’s stop here,” Teach said, dismounting.

Surprised, Anne looked around, seeing no reason for them

to stop. They were at least ten miles from the city. On their

right, scattered across the ground were several large stones covered with lichen and moss, the tree line not far behind. It was

not the kind of place she would have chosen to take a break.

“Can we not keep going?” she asked. She could have ridden

for hours and not tired of it.

Teach shook his head, taking the reins from her hands.

“Trust me. You’ll want to see this.”

Anne most definitely did
not
trust him, but she had little choice. Teach caught her as she slid down. Pulling away from

him, she pretended to fix her skirts. In truth, she was flustered at his proximity.

Teach approached the woods and then entered through a

slight opening in the trees. The scent of pines and wet leaves

filled the air, and Anne breathed in deeply. He tied the horses

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to a large branch that looked as if it had been placed there. It’s positioning was too careful for it to have simply fallen. A small stream flowed near their feet.

The trail upon which they walked was overgrown, yet still

visible.

“What is this place?” Anne asked, her voice loud in the

silent surroundings.

Teach did not respond. He continued to walk forward into

the dense forest, sunlight filtering down through the branches

and leaves.

“Sir?” she said.

“Please stop calling me ‘sir.’ That title is reserved for my father.”

“Well, what shall I call you? ‘Mr. Edward?’”

“Teach,” he said.

“Your father would not approve,” she said, noting with sat-

isfaction the stiffening of his shoulders.

“Since my father isn’t here to object, there’s no reason you

can’t simply call me Teach. Now come. It’s not far.”

“What’s not far?” she asked, deciding not to call him any-

thing at all.

“This way.”

Anne froze, the hair on her neck standing up as she real-

ized how stupid she had been. She’d been so eager to escape

the confines of the household that she’d ignored the hazards of

going off alone with the young master. He was becoming far

too familiar with her.

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Teach, no doubt sensing something amiss, turned back to her. In three long strides he closed the distance between them.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, scanning her from head to toe.

“I wish to return to the house,” she said.

“Why?” he asked, clearly puzzled. “I want to show you

something.”

A hysterical laugh rose in her throat. “I’m sure you do, but

I have no desire to see it.” She spun around. Several leaves clung to her skirts as she returned the way they had just come.

Teach leapt in front of her, blocking the path. “You prom-

ised you would come with me.”

“And you promised to behave yourself!” she snapped. What

a fool she was! Anyone who could be friends with someone like

the Earl of Lorimar was not to be trusted.

Teach’s eyes grew wide. “What have I done?”

“You’ve led me here,” she said, gesturing to their surroundings.

He waited expectantly. When she remained silent, he nod-

ded. “Yes, I know.”

“Well, what is this place?”

“Blast it, that’s what I’m trying to show you.” He raked a

hand through his hair. “I am not in the habit of bringing help-

less maids to the middle of the forest.”

“I might not have a pail handy, but I would not characterize

myself as helpless. Why can’t I return to the house?”

“Because I simply wanted to show you something. Why is

that so hard to understand?” His voice echoed around them, and a 15 5

quail, upset by all the shouting, shot upward, wings flapping wildly to escape. After a few failed attempts at flight, it settled several paces away. Just because it had wings did not mean it could fly well.

She studied Teach’s face, but his expression revealed noth-

ing except for his annoyance. In return he continued to watch

her, waiting for her to make a decision.

“All right,” she said at last. Catching her lip between her

teeth, she nodded, indicating that he should lead the way.

As they walked, Anne heard the distant sound of run-

ning water. The farther he led her into the forest, the louder it became. Soon they happened upon a small stone cottage with

two chimneys, set in a clearing. The old rock wall surrounding

it was in ruins. Teach proceeded past the cottage, toward a stone ledge. Holding out his hand, he motioned for her to join him.

His fingers clasped hers, firm and warm, and she took a

tentative step toward the edge, gasping at the beauty before her.

Far below, a river meandered through a rocky gorge. Both sides

of the ravine sported uneven and precipitous cliff faces with a

broken line of hawthorns visible near the water’s edge. Upon

closer inspection, Anne also recognized the golden leaves of the whitebeams.

“Well?” Teach asked.

She could only shake her head and cast a quick glance at

him, noting the satisfaction in his features. “I don’t know what to say,” she said at last.

“‘Thank you’? Or ‘I shall endeavor to trust you in the future’?”

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A grin tugged at her lips. “I would not go so far as that.”

Teach opened his mouth, but Anne continued before he could

say anything. “But yes, thank you for bringing me here. How

did you find this place?”

Teach leaned back against a tree, releasing her hand. “My

mother had my father build this cottage for her. It was a place

for her to get away.”

His own mother had needed to escape the house, Anne

thought. Somehow, she was not surprised

“It’s lovely,” she said, no longer anxious that it was just the

two of them. “She must have come here often.”

He shrugged. “As often as her illness would allow. Toward

the end she wasn’t able to move much. My father would bring

out a chair for her and set it right here.” He indicated a spot in the center of the ledge. “She would hold the dog’s lead in one

hand. When she was ready to go inside, she’d release the dog,

and he would go and find my father.”

“Your father wouldn’t sit with her out here?”

Teach tore a leaf from an overhead branch and ripped it to

shreds. “My father can’t remain still for too long. He never went far, but he could not stand to see her in that state. I think she preferred the solitude as well. He would go and look for willow

bark or other roots and plants to ease her pain.”

“No herbs or medicine could cure her?”

Teach’s voice was bitter. “The doctors claimed nothing

could have saved her.”

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Anne swallowed around the unexpected lump in her throat.

Her own father had collapsed and died before any doctor could

be summoned.

Teach crushed a spider beneath his boot. “Until then, he

did what he could to make her time here on earth as comfort-

able as possible. But what good are linen sheets and feather beds when your body is racked with pain?”

Anne was reminded of her own mother’s death. After

Henry had kicked them out, Jacqueline had found employment

in an earl’s household. She’d been beaten when she’d refused the advances of the earl’s son. By the time she’d made it home, she’d been bloodied and broken.

They hadn’t had enough money at the time to call on a doc-

tor. Anne had been so enraged, she’d nearly gone to the house and killed the man responsible. Only the fact that her mother had

been in agonizing pain and had needed constant attention had

prevented Anne from carrying out her plans. Her mother passed

away three days later. A short time later, Henry found her.

What would be more frustrating? Knowing you had the

means but couldn’t utilize them? Or not having the means, and

knowing there was nothing you could do to help the situation?

“I’m sorry,” Anne said, wishing she could say something

that did not sound so trite. She was all too familiar with empty words, having experienced loss of her own.

Teach stared woodenly at the ground. “I am too,” he whis-

pered, almost to himself.

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C H A P T E R 1 5

Teach

Teach could not believe that the girl sitting by his side was the same one who’d assaulted him with a pail in the market. Nor could he

believe he’d brought her here, to his mother’s favorite resting spot.

Not even Patience knew of this place, and Teach was unsure

if he would ever show it to her. Something inside him balked

at the idea, for he knew she would fail to appreciate its simple beauty. Patience would only notice what was lacking. It wasn’t a grand residence. It was a cottage, with two rooms and a quaint

porch. His mother had had no desire to ruin the natural sur-

roundings with anything large or garish.

Perhaps Teach would keep it for his own, a secret getaway

when married life to Patience grew to be too much for him.

Unnerved by his train of thought, Teach bit back a curse. He

wasn’t even married yet, and already he was planning trips with-

out his future bride-to-be? It did not bode well for their union.

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Neither did the fact that he was quite enjoying Anne’s company. He recognized in her the same restless spirit that he

possessed, and he was glad he’d chosen to spend the day with

her. Teach could see that in her own way, she was beginning to

trust him.

The rays of the sun peered down through the trees, warm-

ing the area where Teach and Anne sat. He’d taken the liberty of bringing two chairs from the cottage out to the ledge, and they

watched the river flow through the gorge below.

Teach pulled out Dampier’s book from his coat pocket and

held it aloft. “Would you be so kind as to continue where you

left off?” he asked.

Anne smiled, but shook her head. “No.”

Shocked, he raised his brows at her. “No? I thought you

liked hearing about all of their adventures.”

“I do. It’s like holding a dream in my hands. But you’re no

longer
ill
,” she said pointedly. “And I am no longer required to wait on you hand and foot.”

Teach grinned, liking the fact that he never knew what kind

of a reaction he would receive from her. Just when he thought

he had Anne figured out, she turned around and surprised him.

“All right. I’ll read to you. What chapter were we on?” he

asked.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed the book, I would actually like to

hear more about your adventures. You mentioned at dinner the

other day that you were attacked by a Spanish sloop and that

16 0

your captain died of his injuries. If it isn’t too painful, I would like to hear the tale.”

Teach could not picture Patience showing any interest in

his activities at sea. Nor his father. Even William, despite professing to be such a good friend, would sooner discuss affairs

of the state than listen to any accounts of life on a merchant

ship. “Well, I’m not sure where to begin. I left England four

months prior to the attack, and we’d managed to trade all of the goods we’d secured. Our captain was a good man, handpicked

by Andrew Barrett himself. Barrett expected integrity from all

of his employees, whether they were a simple cook or a captain

on one of his ships. I was impressed with the crew, for they were all decent men.”

“You seem to hold Andrew Barrett in high regard,” Anne

said, folding her hands in her lap.

Teach nodded. “I do, and I was sorry to hear about his

death. Henry brings dishonor to the family name.”

Anne grimaced.

“I’m sorry for bringing up Henry. I forgot you used to work

for him. That can’t have been pleasant.”

“No, I’m sorry. I interrupted your story.” She gave him a