Blackhearts (36 page)

minated by the candle in the hallway. Drummond had told

Anne he’d hired a lady’s maid for her, and Anne had been sur-

prised that he’d gone to the trouble of securing her a companion.

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When Anne had first seen the aging woman, she’d thought it was Margery, the resemblance was so striking.

Martha had clearly been an efficient lady’s maid in her

youth. But with her hunched shoulders and poor vision, Anne

wondered why she had accepted Drummond’s request. No

doubt he had decided to employ her because she was old and

frail and he wouldn’t be required to pay her very much.

“I have some broth for you to eat,” Martha said, her cloudy

gray eyes searching the gloomy interior.

Anne shrugged, forgetting momentarily that Martha’s eye-

sight prevented her from seeing very clearly. “I’m not hungry.”

Martha’s hands shook slightly as she carried the broth. “It

won’t do you any good to starve yourself. You’ll need all your

strength when we take you to the ship shortly.”

Anne held out her hands. “I can’t eat tied like this.”

“You can sip it at least. It’s your fault, you know. If you’d

just come quiet like, instead of jumping out o’ the carriage, my Bartholomew wouldn’t have had to use the ropes. He didn’t

mean to hurt you.”

“Then why didn’t
your
Bartholomew take me to the White

Stag like Mr. Drummond told him to?” Anne asked.

“Stop your fussing.”

“What do you think Mr. Drummond will say when he

finds out you didn’t do as he said?”

An ugly smile crossed Martha’s lips. “He won’t never find

out, now, will he? He won’t know we kept the money he gave

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us for the White Stag. If I was you, I’d mind my words. I’d hate for such a pretty thing to meet with an accident. These parts of the docks are dangerous. Girls like you go missing all the time.”

Part of Anne longed to fly into a rage, but she knew it would

not help her cause any. It would be much better to retain her

wits and try to think of a way out of the situation.

“It was very kind of Master Drummond to secure your pas-

sage,” Martha continued. “He’s a generous man, not turning

you over to the constable. Any other master woulda done just

that, and you’d be swinging from the gallows. My sister, Margery, warned me about you. She said you’re a crooked one.”

That was how Martha had come to be Anne’s lady’s maid.

“It was Margery’s idea not to take you to the White Stag.

Says you didn’t deserve it, not after what you done.”

Not even Margery was above stealing from Drummond.

Martha continued to speak, rambling on about merchant

ships and how none of them could compare to the grandness of

the
Deliverance
and how a large crowd would no doubt come to watch it set sail.

Lying back against the small pillow, Anne tuned Martha

out, closing her eyes against the physical discomfort. Anne had

tried to loosen the ropes that bound her but had been unsuc-

cessful. Her side still throbbed from where she’d fallen, as did her hands and knees.

Anne needed to conserve her strength if she wanted to

escape. If there was indeed a large crowd when the ship set sail, 3 4 7

that might be to her benefit if she could not get away earlier.

If she was unable to flee . . .

The
Deliverance
was bound for the West Indies, but Anne

was not sure where it would call ashore first. She knew the

island her mother was from, but she did not know if she had

any living relatives there.

Which brought up the question of where she should go.

Drummond had said he would send part of her inheritance

along to the White Stag. What would he do if he discovered

Anne wasn’t at the inn? Would he search for her?

And did Martha and Margery know about that arrange-

ment? They would surely steal the money if they did, and Anne

would be left destitute once more.

Unfortunately, Anne did not know the answer to any of

these questions, and despite her best efforts, tears formed once again in her eyes.

Anne’s stomach churned, and her palms were slick with per-

spiration. She eyed the bowl Martha had brought, but doubted

she’d be able to keep anything down if she tried.

The sound of Martha’s voice brought her out of her reverie.

“I’ll leave the broth here in case you change your mind, and

I’ll check back in a bit. I wouldn’t turn my nose up at it if I was you,” Martha said, a sneer pinching her lips. “If Bartholomew

hears you’re not eating, he might not feel so inclined to give you anything again.”

Fire surged through Anne’s blood as she watched the old

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maid quit the room. Only when she was alone and Martha’s footsteps had faded in the distance did Anne once again fight

to free herself from her bonds.

Martha might come back, but by then Anne hoped to be

long gone.

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C H A P T E R 3 5

Teach

Teach went straight to his room to gather his clothes. He

intended to search the docks for Anne, and when he found her,

they would leave on the next available ship. It didn’t matter

where it was headed, as long as it took them far away from

England. And his father.

A soft knock at the door halted his movements. He ignored it.

He rolled up a shirt and threw it into the small bag he

would take with him. He would not be returning.

The knock became more insistent. “Sir! Please! It’s urgent I

speak with you.”

That was not his father’s voice. The amber glow from the

candlelight flickered as Teach strode to the door. Opening it, he saw Elizabeth’s pinched face as she wrung her hands.

“What do you want?” Teach demanded.

“Please, you have to come with me, sir. Miss Anne needs you.”

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Gripping Elizabeth’s wrist, he pulled her into his room and checked the hallway before closing the door. “Where is she?”

“Your father had her taken away, sir. By two mean-looking

men. They were supposed to take her to the White Stag, but my

brother heard them talking and changing their plans. He fol-

lowed them. Miss Anne tried to escape, but they caught her. I

think she’s hurt, sir. And they’re keeping her in an awful place.”

Shaking his head, Teach closed his eyes briefly against the

surge of white-hot rage. “Who took her? Can your brother

show me where they are?”

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes wide with fear. “Yes, sir. He’s

waiting downstairs with your horse—”

“Is my father in the dining room?”

“No, sir. He asked for his meal to be sent up. You must

hurry. If Margery finds me here . . .”

Teach didn’t need to be told twice. Throwing the bag across

his shoulder, he silently headed for the back stairs. Elizabeth

didn’t carry a candle, and there was no moonlight to illuminate

the way. Although the rain had stopped, the night was still dark, and they crept noiselessly along the stairwell.

In the courtyard Teach saw the outline of the young groom

where he held Kaiser’s reins in his hands. Teach’s breath escaped in small puffs, the chill in the air biting. “What’s your name?”

Teach whispered, swinging up into the saddle.

“David, sir.”

“And you followed the men when they took Miss Anne?”

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“Aye, sir. I saw her being taken to the carriage. It didn’t look like she was very happy about it, so I jumped on the back once

they left the premises. They didn’t suspect a thing,” he said, his chest jutting out with pride.

Teach pulled David up behind him. “I’ll see that you’re

rewarded. Now show me where they are.”

Fearful that Kaiser’s hooves would alert Master Drummond

to his escape, Teach kept to the strip of grass lining the side of the drive.

Once he reached the city streets, he urged Kaiser on. Teach

was only vaguely aware of the lanes they rode along, bloodlust

racing through his veins. If she was injured . . .

Forcing himself to breathe regularly, he followed David’s

directions, Kaiser’s hooves clattering along the cobblestones.

The closer they got to the docks, the fewer people they encoun-

tered. Most workhands had returned to their families at this

time of day, and Teach was grateful for the abandoned roads.

David led him through a labyrinth of small alleys and back-

streets. Teach sincerely hoped the lad knew where he was going.

“It’s just up ahead, sir. That building there on the corner.”

“You’re sure?”

“Aye. I’m sure.”

Teach slowed Kaiser to a walk, Teach’s eyes long accus-

tomed to the dark. The two-story structure David had pointed

to was a ramshackle house, with several boards missing on the

second story and its front door hanging forlornly on its hinges.

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The skeletal remains of the surrounding buildings appeared to lean against the other for support, blackened by a recent fire. It was far enough away from any main thoroughfare that no one

would think to look here. For anything.

Teach pulled Kaiser up short and slid to the ground, with

David following close behind. One of the charred buildings had

a small courtyard and the remnants of a stable nearby. After

leading Kaiser off the street, Teach hid him from view.

They crouched for a moment in the shelter of a stall, waiting

for any sign of movement to come from the building next door.

“There are two men with her, sir. And an old woman. The

two men stay here, but the old woman comes and goes,” David

whispered.

Teach gave David an appreciative look. “How did you know

to follow them?”

David grimaced. “I was in the barn when the two men took

Miss Anne away. They mentioned something about the White

Stag and your father’s ship, the
Deliverance
.”

“And you’ve watched them?” Teach asked.

“Aye. I like Miss Anne. The men your father sent her with

didn’t look like the sort you’d want to send a lady to, so I

stayed here.”

“Good lad,” Teach said, slipping several coins from his

pocket and handing them to David.

The boy’s eyes grew large, but he handed the coins back to

Teach. “I didn’t do it for payment, sir. Miss Anne’s looked out

3 5 3

for my family, and I didn’t like the thought of her suffering.”

Teach refused to take the coins. “Even more reason for you

to keep them.”

Before David could argue any further, they heard voices

as the door opened and out stepped a woman. From the slant

of her shoulders and her slow gate, she appeared to be elderly.

As Teach peeked through the scorched wooden slats, his pulse

raced. For a moment he thought it was Margery, but the woman

before him didn’t limp. And Margery was still at the estate.

“I’ll be back soon. Make sure you have everything cleaned

up,” the woman said to some unseen person holding the door

open. “We don’t want to leave a trail.” Where was she going at

this time of night?

“Nobody could blame us for what we did,” a man’s voice

answered, followed by a hollow laugh. “She deserved what she

got, thinkin’ she’s better than the rest of us.”

He’s a dead man,
Teach thought as the door closed and the old woman walked away, mumbling to herself.

“Would you like me to go with you, sir?” David asked.

Teach was already standing, his muscles tensed. “No. You

go after that woman. Tell her Master Drummond found out

what they’ve done and Margery sent you to warn her.”

“But, sir, do you intend—”

“Yes, I do,” Teach growled, heading for the door. Tempted

to kick it in, he instead opened it carefully, not wanting to alert anyone inside to his presence.

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A single candle cast an eerie glow in the dim hallway. The floor was scarred and buckled, the corners laced with webs.

Dust covered everything, and a faint acrid smell still hung

in the air. Teach heard a soft scuffling sound and the telltale

squeak of a rat.

The first room he encountered was empty. The sound of

movement came from the back of the house. Stealing forward,

Teach came face-to-face with a large man, his physical stature

almost equal to Teach’s.

“What the devil do you want?” the man demanded.

“To take back what you took from me.”

The man charged at Teach, but Teach flipped him over his

shoulder and slammed him to the ground, the force of it shaking

the house to its rafters. Clipping Teach’s ankle, the man pulled him down. The two wrestled and grappled, until Teach managed to catch the man in the stomach with his elbow. Moaning,

the man rolled to his side. Teach reached down, gripped him by

his hair, and pulled him to a kneeling position before delivering a crushing blow to his face. His opponent fell back and didn’t

move again.

Teach heard a tread on the floor above and hurtled up the

shadowy stairs, his heart hammering. He’d just turned onto the

landing when a shot rang out and the wood paneling near his

head splintered. Dropping down, Teach saw another man, equal

in stature to the first, fumbling to reload the pistol in his hand.

Jumping to his feet, Teach rushed at him and slammed him

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against the wall. The pistol fell harmlessly to the floor. “Where is she?”

“Don’t know who you’re talking about,” the man spat back.