Blackhearts (35 page)

erably at his head. “If I do have any living family, they’re even more of a stranger to me than you are. But I would sooner stay

with them than spend another night in this house.”

There was an awkward moment of silence, until Drum-

mond nodded. “Good-bye, Anne. I wish you luck.” With that,

he motioned for the two men to take her. Anne was led out of

the room, her shoulders back and her head held high.

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C H A P T E R 3 3

Teach

Teach stared out the carriage window at the pouring rain and

blackened sky. The ring in his pocket was practically burning a

hole through the material. His insides bubbled like a pot boil-

ing over, and he couldn’t wait to give the ring to her. His Anne.

Sweet, strong, beautiful Anne.

Teach’s mother had often told him that good people

brought peace. That was precisely what Anne did for him. Oh,

she could arouse his temper like no other girl ever had, but it

was her strength and depth of character that had attracted him

to her in the first place.

That and her unmistakable beauty.

Teach’s pulse picked up as he neared his father’s house. The

large, gray exterior no longer filled him with dread. Ever since his mother had died, Teach had felt trapped, unable to do as

he chose.

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But now his father could not prevent him from marrying Anne.

The
Deliverance
would set sail within six days, but he

would not be on it. There was no need. He was as happy as

he’d ever been, and nothing was left to stand in the way of his

happiness.

He sprang from the carriage and tore up the stairs. Inside

the house all was still.
Anne must be upstairs, changing,
Teach thought. He headed for her room on the second floor, but

stopped in his tracks when he discovered Margery on the land-

ing. She stood in the dim light, a dour look on her face. “Your

father is asking for you, sir.”

“I’ll be right there,” Teach said quietly.

“He wishes you to come immediately.”

“I will, as soon as I’ve spoken with Miss Anne.”

“It has to do with her,” Margery said, the distaste in her

tone obvious.

If the old woman wasn’t careful, Teach would still talk to

his father about sacking her. Following Margery to his father’s

room, Teach placed Anne’s ring in his pocket. Now would be as

good a time as any to approach his father about marrying Anne.

The room was ablaze with candlelight, and his mother’s

portrait above the fireplace seemed to smile serenely at him.

“Good evening, Father. You’re looking well.”

“Thank you, Edward. Please, sit down.”

Teach noticed the tense lines in Drummond’s shoulders,

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and his instincts told him something was wrong. Not wanting to argue, he took a seat and waited.

Drummond stepped to the side, and it was then that Teach

noticed a small coffer on his father’s dressing table.

“Did you know of Anne’s propensity to go for long walks?”

Drummond asked.

“Yes,” Teach said warily. What a strange question.

“Did you ever follow her?”

“No, I never followed her. There were times when I accom-

panied her.”

“Have you ever observed her doing anything . . . out of the

ordinary?”

Anxiety settled in Teach’s stomach, like an unwelcome

guest who would not leave. He remembered the time when he’d

caught her returning the items she’d stolen. “Never.”

“Do you recognize this chest?” Drummond continued.

“No.”

“Her name is engraved on it.”

“Then it belongs to her.”

Drummond made an ugly sound. “But the contents inside

do not.” He unhooked the latch and flipped the lid back before

tipping the chest forward. Inside were a few pieces of household silverware and coins. There was even an ornate spyglass, one

Teach recognized as his father’s favorite. The one his father had claimed was missing.

His heart thundering anxiously, Tech shook his head.

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“There—there must be some kind of explanation,” he stammered, staring at the objects like they were a poisonous serpent.

“Yes, there is a perfectly good explanation. Anne stole

them.”

Teach ran his tongue over dry lips, trying to fight down a

rising sense of panic. “We don’t know that.” But he did. Hadn’t

he caught Anne red-handed?

“Edward, it’s useless to pretend otherwise. Margery followed

Anne and discovered the chest hidden among the willows. While

I have been quite generous, I have not given her leave to take

anything from this house. Please, do not do me the disservice of trying to pretend otherwise.”

“I’m not trying to pretend anything. I’m simply trying to

understand it from Anne’s perspective. You treat your employ-

ees only marginally better than someone else would treat their

slaves, and yet you seem surprised that someone would steal

from you. Perhaps she did it because you barely gave her enough

to survive on.”

His father’s face turned a deep shade of puce. “I have never

had trouble with my servants before now.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Teach said.

Drummond went to the decanter near his bed. He poured

a glass of brandy and downed the contents. “It doesn’t matter.

The damage is done.”

Teach tried to come up with a reasonable explanation he

could give his father. She’d told him there was nothing else.

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He’d believed her. If he’d known she’d taken this much . . .

What would he have done?

It didn’t affect the way he felt about her. He was disap-

pointed, yes. And frightened for her. If only she’d confided in

him. He could have returned everything himself, and his father

would never have found out.

Drummond placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I

know this must come as quite a shock to you, Edward, and

I’m sorry for that. I’ve seen how you look at her. I know that

you care for her. There is no denying she’s attractive. Not as

attractive as Miss Patience, in my opinion . . . But the fact

remains that Anne is nothing more than a common crook.”

He shook his head ruefully, turning back to the damning

chest and closing the lid with a loud bang. “And to think

I offered her shelter. To think I somehow felt obligated to

watch out for her.”

Teach jumped to his feet. “You’re wrong. Anne deserves our

protection. And our love. If it hadn’t been for her, you would

have made me marry Patience. You said so yourself.”

“When it comes to Anne, I am often—mistaken,” Drum-

mond said gruffly. He made a face, as if the word left a bitter

taste in his mouth.

“What are you going to do?”

“I should contact the constable.”

“You can’t,” Teach said. “She’s Andrew Barrett’s daughter.

You promised him you would take care of her.”

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“I did, but that was before I knew she would behave like this. She should be hanged, but I won’t have her blood on my

hands. She’s gone now.” His father’s voice wrapped Teach in its

destructive web. “She used you, Edward. I hope you see that

now. She doesn’t care for you.”

“What have you done?”

Drummond retreated a step, his hands raised in a defensive

gesture at the look on Teach’s face. “If you don’t believe me, see for yourself. She left you a note.”

A cold fist clenched around Teach’s heart as he grabbed the

paper Drummond pulled from his pocket.

Dear Edward,

By the time you receive this, I will be gone. I’m sorry I did
not get the opportunity to say good-bye, but it’s for the best.

We’re not right for each other, and it was wrong of me to allow
you to believe otherwise. I regret my actions, for I never had
any intention of staying. We both know what my greatest desire
in life was, and now I am achieving it. You deserve a queen,
Edward. Go and find her.

Always,

Anne

Teach shook his head, hoping to clear his thoughts. He

reread the note, stumbling over the clumsy phrasing, trying to

piece it together with the girl he knew in his mind.
We’re not
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right for each other.
Teach knew she didn’t believe that.

You deserve a queen, Edward. Go and find her.

Something wasn’t right. She’d never called him Edward.

Why would she suddenly— His breath hitched in his throat.

The clever, beautiful girl. She loved him. She was
his
queen, and she wanted him to find her.

Her goal had always been to search for her family. And

she’d always planned to leave England by ship. On the
Deliv-

erance
. That meant he had to get to the docks. John would help him.

Aware that his father watched him, Teach forced the muscles

in his shoulders to relax, resisting the temptation to race from the room. He would have to be careful. Drummond must never

suspect that Teach intended to go after her.

“She was not for you. In time you will see that.”

“Just like Miss Patience,” Teach said in a low voice.

“Yes, just like Miss Patience.”

Except Anne was nothing like Miss Patience. Knowing that

she was out there somewhere, alone, filled him with ice-cold

fear.

And knowing that his father had done this, filled him with

a burning hate.

After an uncomfortable silence, Drummond cleared his

throat. “As difficult as it may be, I need you to do something,

Edward. Something very important.”

“What?” Teach asked tersely.

3 41

“I need you to go to London for me.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow morning. I’ll need you to stay there for at least

a week, if not more.”

Teach turned and faced him. “If I do that, I’ll miss the

launch.”

Drummond hesitated. “I know that. And while it is an

important event, I would like you to visit with my solicitor in

London.”

“Why?”

“You’ve always shown an active interest in my business deal-

ings. I was wrong not to let you pursue your dreams.”

“My dream was to be captain of the
Deliverance
.”

“That’s impossible. But perhaps, in time, you might take

command of a different ship.”

By offering Teach this olive branch, his father clearly hoped

to take his mind off Anne. But once again his father’s plan backfired.

Teach knew exactly when and how Anne was leaving the

country. “I can’t give you my answer now. I’d like to be alone.”

“You mustn’t wait long. My solicitor in London is expect-

ing you.”

“Of course,” Teach said, and strode to the door.

“Will you be joining me for supper this evening?” Was it

Teach’s imagination, or did his father sound uncertain?

Teach paused with his hand on the door handle. “Not

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tonight. I have a lot to think about. Please have my meal sent up to my room instead.”

“I’m your father. I would still like you to join me.”

Teach met Drummond’s eyes. “And I would like you to

leave me bloody well alone.”

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C H A P T E R 3 4

Anne

Anne lay on her back, surveying the small room where she had

been brought. The gloomy sky outside did little to brighten

the space. Despite what Drummond had told her, she knew for

certain this was not an inn. She’d heard of the White Stag, and

this place was most certainly not it.

The coarse mattress beneath her smelled of dried sweat and

urine, and Anne tried not to think about what had caused the

ring of stains marring the surface. The room itself was chilly

and drafty, with several boards broken and missing from the

walls, allowing a stiff breeze to blow through the cramped

space. Anne shivered, her dress still damp from the rain. She

pulled at the ropes that secured her cold hands and feet, hissing as a sharp pain pierced her side. The two men had trussed her

up like a turkey after she’d tried to escape. She’d waited for the carriage to slow down before she’d jumped from the interior. If

3 4 4

it hadn’t been for her skirts, she could have outrun them.

As it was, they’d knocked her to the ground, and Anne was

sure she’d cracked a rib when she’d landed.

There had to be some way out of this mess. She hoped the

hints in the note she’d left for Teach would be enough for him

to come after her.

If only Anne had returned the stolen items sooner, none

of this would have happened. Margery wouldn’t have become

suspicious and followed her out to the trees. Drummond would

never have evicted her, and Anne would be with Teach.

But for how long? Drummond had said that he still

intended for Teach to marry someone with a title. And he’d

made his prejudice against Anne all too clear.

It was late in the evening, and she had been gone for hours.

Teach would have noticed her absence by now. She should have

accompanied him to the city. Would Drummond have con-

fronted her in front of Teach when they’d returned? Or would

he have waited?

She squeezed her eyes shut against the prickle of tears. It

was no use getting upset over what might have been. Right now

she needed to concentrate and wait for an opportune moment

to get away.

The door opened, and Martha entered, her silhouette illu-