Blackhearts (8 page)

was an angry red in one spot, and small blisters were already

forming. He dragged her several steps to a small sideboard.

Atop was a large vase with several red roses resting inside. He

threw the roses down. “Is it fresh?” he asked her.

Anne nodded. “Yes, from this morning.”

“Good,” Teach said, and stuck her hand into the water. He

had seen quite a few burns in the last year. Working on the ship, several sailors had had to take turns manning the kitchen. More

than one had left the encounter scarred for life.

For some reason Teach felt responsible for her injury. If he

hadn’t pressed his father about captaining the ship, he wouldn’t have become so upset. “I’m sorry my father startled you.”

Anne glanced down at her feet. “He meant you, didn’t he?

About not stepping foot on board the
Deliverance
?”

It was a strange question to ask, for a maid would never be

banned from a ship. More than likely, she would never set foot

on one in the first place, unless she was accompanying a lady.

“Of course he meant me.” Teach couldn’t help the bitterness

that crept into his voice.

The look she gave him could be described only as pity. “And

yet you’re his only son,” she said, almost to herself. Shaking her 6 2

head, she withdrew her hand, and then cupped it inside her apron so as not to drip water across the floor. “I . . . I’m sorry. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work.”

Teach watched her dart away. Only after she was gone did

he realize he had yet to put her in her place. It would have been the perfect opportunity, for the two of them had been alone.

Oddly enough, he wasn’t as keen on it as he had been

before. He had a disconcerting feeling that despite their short

acquaintance, Anne, the maid, understood him better than

Miss Patience, the baron’s daughter, ever would.

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C H A P T E R 7

Anne

The next morning Anne stood in the kitchen, kneading the

dough for breakfast scones, her arms covered in flour. She was

not usually one to make a mess while she cooked, but the kitchen appeared as if the flour bag had exploded. She continued to

pound the table and form the round shapes.

The rest of the house was quiet. Neither the masters nor

their guests were awake, and she was grateful for the reprieve.

The burn on her hand was no longer painful. Anne had

been so shocked yesterday, thinking Master Drummond had

meant
her
when he’d actually meant his son wasn’t to step foot on one of his ships.

She’d stood between the two of them and thought Master

Drummond had figured out her plans to get aboard.

Thankfully for her, that wasn’t the case. Unfortunately for

Teach, Master Drummond controlled him, like everyone else

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under his roof. And Teach appeared just as helpless to do anything about it.

To be banned from his father’s own ship, she couldn’t imag-

ine what that must feel like. Nor did she want to.

It was almost enough to make her feel sorry for him.

Still, Teach had a roof over his head. He would always have

plenty of money to spend and food to eat. And he would soon

be married to the daughter of a baron.

From what Anne had seen of Miss Patience, she wished

Teach luck. He would certainly need it.

Throughout the evening meal the previous day, Miss

Patience had taken every opportunity to make Anne look like

a fool or drop things. Several times she had even attempted to

send Anne sprawling.

Margery eventually took pity on Anne and had Mary serve

Miss Patience the cold meats and cheeses instead.

Teach sat on the opposite side of the table, and Anne was

unsure which situation was worse. He’d guessed correctly that

she had placed something in the tartlet, although he would

have a hard time proving it. Anne had thrown out the seeds as

soon as she’d returned to the kitchen, and had vowed not to try

anything so foolish again.

The rooster in the yard crowed, signaling sunrise. Sara

walked into the kitchen and regarded Anne for a moment. “Do

you need some help?” she asked.

Anne stopped to catch her breath, blowing a thick strand of

6 5

hair out of her face. “Thank you, I would appreciate it.”

Sara nodded and grabbed a rag, then cleared the eggshells

and excess flour from the table. At least one good thing had come out of Anne helping serve the meals. Sara was kinder to her now

than she had been in the past few months. Unsure how long Sara’s behavior would last, Anne was grateful to her for the moment.

While Sara finished cleaning, Anne baked the scones, and

their hot buttery scent filled the air. Once they were ready, she covered them with a cloth. After pulling out the scraps of cold

meat from the previous night’s meal, as well as a carrot, she

walked out to the stable, signaling to the cat. The master didn’t care much for animals, but Margery had proven a valuable

employee, so he allowed her to have her pet if she kept it away

from the main house and fed it in the stable.

Margery had saved the cat from some street urchins who’d

been torturing it, and had nursed it back to health. Anne sus-

pected the housekeeper cared more for the cat than she did for

her fellow humans.

Hurrying to the low brick building on the other side of the

courtyard, Anne glanced up at the clear sky overheard. The air

was brisk.

Leaving the door ajar to allow some light into the dark

interior, she dumped the meat onto the floor and watched as

the cat pounced, her back rippling with pleasure. From her

pocket Anne pulled out the carrot. Then she approached the

stall that housed the young master Drummond’s horse. The

6 6

stallion pawed the earth when he saw her and nipped at the treat in her hand.

Patting his black neck, Anne breathed in his smell. “You

weren’t meant to be cooped up like this, now, were you? Barely

a chance to get out, with your master gone to sea. What would

he do if I took you away from this place?”

“Perhaps you should try it and see what happens.”

Gasping, Anne clutched her chest as she spun around.

Leaning against the wall in the shadow of the door was the

young master himself, dressed in a riding jacket, breeches, and

riding boots.

“You should have made your presence known,” she said,

hating the breathlessness in her voice but unable to stop it.

“And ruin all the fun?” he asked, strolling toward her.

“It’s not right to sneak up on someone.”

“I didn’t sneak up on you,” he said, his eyes not leaving

her face.

Taking a few steps to the side, she attempted to reach the

doorway. “I have work to do.”

Once again he blocked her path. “Your work can wait.”

“I don’t think Margery or your father would agree.”

“I don’t care what Margery or my father thinks. I’ve been

looking for you. Now stand still. I’m getting tired of this con-

stant cat and mouse,” he said.

“Well, I’m tired of being chased,” she snapped, forced to tip

her head back and look up at him.

67

“Then stop running,” he said. “I merely wanted to inquire after your hand.”

In the dim light, half of his face was hidden in shadow. The

other half looked tired and ashen. Gone was the arrogance from

the previous day. He didn’t appear as intimidating as before,

with his shoulders now slightly hunched.

Anne spoke without thinking. “Does your future wife know

you’ve been looking for me?”

His eyes widened in surprise, and he paused for a moment,

before a look of annoyance crossed his face. “You forget your

place,” he said.

“And you, yours.”

He laughed shortly, his teeth flashing white in the gloom.

“Tell me, Anne. How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“And where did you serve before coming here?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I want to know how you’ve made it this far with

that tongue in your head. You don’t speak like a common maid,

and you certainly don’t act like one. I intended to give you a

good tongue-lashing, yet I find myself on the defensive where

you’re concerned. Why is that?”

“Perhaps you are too used to people bowing to your believed

superiority, and don’t understand when your presence is not

desired.”

“‘Believed superiority’? Good Lord, you almost act as if you

6 8

were the lady of the house and I were no more than a common footman.”

Her back stiffened. “I’m sorry it appears that way, sir, but

I refuse to be
treated
like a common maid,” she said, for it was the truth. Her father had never required her to work. Anne’s

mother had been the one to insist that Anne at least learn how

to cook, although she’d often been overruled by Andrew Bar-

rett’s stronger personality.

Stepping around the young master, Anne prepared to return

to the kitchen, but his hand shot out and he grasped her wrist,

his skin warm against hers. A bolt of awareness shot through

her, and Anne stumbled backward, her head hitting the door of

the stall. Tears sprang to her eyes from the pain.

His voice when he spoke was weary. “Please, I’m sorry.

Don’t run away again. I’ve just spent the last twelve months

on a ship and have quite forgotten how to behave. I promise to

leave you alone, if you’ll simply stay put for one moment.”

Rubbing her head, she gazed at him warily. This could be

some kind of trick.

“What do you want?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m the very devil himself.”

“Thus far you have not proven yourself otherwise,” she

muttered.

“Yes, well, you’re not exactly the innocent, now, are you?”

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Her head shot up at his words. “What do you mean?” Did he know she’d taken another piece of cutlery last night? She

hadn’t planned on doing it, especially not after the tea incident with Master Drummond. But after that miserable supper, she

knew she could never give up her plans to leave.

“I mean, you are as much at fault for our present situation

as I am. In the market you attacked—”

“That’s not true! You assaulted me—” she began.

“I didn’t wield a pail,” he countered.

“I acted in self-defense.”

“You misunderstood my intentions.”

She laughed out loud at that. “I’m quite sure I did not. I might be untested, but I know enough about men like you. There was

no way I would let you take me anywhere to ‘discuss’ anything.”

The young master gave her a long look. “Do I frighten

you?” he asked at length.

Determined not to show him just how much, she shook her

head. “No,” she lied.

“Why not?”

“Because you are not the master of this house. Your father

is, and I serve him.”
Though, not for much longer.

He raised one sardonic eyebrow. “And do you like serving

him?”

“It does not matter whether I like it or not,” she replied.

“But you choose to remain here. You could seek a situation

elsewhere, and yet you do not.”

7 0

“There is no guarantee that my next position would be an improvement,” she said.

“What if someone were to do just that?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Promise you that if you left here, your life would be greatly

improved.”

Anne shifted, uncomfortable with his line of question-

ing. “No one can promise me that, for no one can predict the

future.”

The stallion whinnied in the stall, tired of being ignored.

Teach approached his horse and stroked the neck, like Anne

had done just moments before. “Do you ride?” he asked.

Surprised by the sudden change in topic and by his appar-

ent civility, Anne responded without thinking. “Yes, my father

taught me.”

“Was he a groom?”

Too late, Anne realized her mistake. It was rare indeed for a

maid to know how to ride a horse.

She was saved from answering when William opened a door

farther down the row of stalls. “Teach, there you are, old chap.

I’ve been looking all over for you. When is breakfast—” He

broke off when he saw Anne standing there, a sly grin lighting

his face. “Ah. I’m sorry. Was I interrupting something?”

Teach did a poor job of masking his displeasure. “Forgive

me, William. I needed some exercise and was about to take an

early ride. Would you care to join me?”

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William dragged his eyes away from Anne. “Before breakfast? You know how I feel about my tea and crumpets in the

morning.”

Teach snorted. “How could I forget? Though, instead of

reaching for a cheesecake, I suggest you get out and enjoy the

morning air.”

William reached defensively for his waist and attempted a

laugh. It sounded forced. “You always were an early riser. Now

I understand the appeal.”

“You would have earned better marks in school if you’d

decided to give it a try.”

“Well, I’d like to try now,” William said, casting a meaningful

look in Anne’s direction. “You always beat me to the punch, don’t you, Teach?” There was a hint of bitterness behind his words.

“You may leave us, Anne,” Teach said.

Shuddering, Anne slipped through the door closest to her.