Blackhearts (27 page)

beside Lord Hervey, as if nothing were amiss. As if the kiss near the willows hadn’t happened.

Teach wondered how she managed it.

“My father misunderstood Anne’s purpose for being sent

here and employed her as one of the maids. Her parents were

friends of his. Once we realized the mistake, it was quickly corrected.”

“Has she no other family?” Patience asked.

“None,” Anne said.

“My father is her guardian.”

“But who are her parents? Surely they aren’t English.”

Anne’s mouth tightened. “My parents have both passed on,

Miss Patience. My father was an English merchant. But I doubt

that you knew him.”

Now inside, they paused at the foot of the grand staircase.

2 5 3

Patience looked as if she wanted to question Anne further, but Lord Hervey spoke first, clearly not interested in Anne’s background. “Where is your father, Edward?” he asked.

“He was called away on business. I’m sorry he isn’t here to

greet you.”

“Yes, well, I suppose I am to blame,” Lord Hervey said.

“We did arrive a day early. I’ll go and rest for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

“And I’ll go and see about the afternoon meal. Dinner will

be served shortly,” Anne offered.

Teach’s jaw clenched as Anne hurried away, effectively leav-

ing Teach alone with Patience. “You look well. Are you recov-

ered?” he asked, hoping Patience wouldn’t question him further

about Anne.

“Yes, quite. It was nothing serious.”

“How is your mother?” Teach asked, hoping Patience

wouldn’t question him further about Anne.

“She had a friend visit unexpectedly and decided to stay

behind.” The relief in her voice was evident.

Teach knew Patience had a closer relationship with Lord

Hervey than with Lady Hervey. It was no doubt due to the

rivalry between the two women, as well as the fact that the

baron was willing to grant Patience her every desire.

“But my mother will arrive in time for our wedding

announcement this weekend,” Patience quickly amended.

“If there is to be an announcement,” Teach said, his voice low.

2 5 4

“Of course there will be,” Patience snapped. “That was why we returned. Our fathers will come to some sort of agreement.”

Not if Teach had anything to do with it.

Patience followed Margery up the stairs, while Teach sought

the seclusion of the library and dropped into an armchair before the fire.

Ignoring the book-lined walls, he closed his eyes, drawing

a deep breath. He was unprepared for the Herveys’ arrival and

had hoped to have more time alone with Anne.

If he couldn’t think of another way to get out of the marriage,

he would tell Patience and her father about the piracy charges.

Surely that would be enough to get them to end the agreement. If not, Teach’s future stretched out bleakly before him.

His father and mother had not had an arranged match.

Their partnership had been based on friendship and an abid-

ing love, with mutual respect and admiration. Teach did not

understand why his father refused to afford him the same kind

of happiness.

Unable to remain seated, Teach paced the floor, pausing

every once in a while to stare out at the dreary sky, the gray

clouds oppressive.

One hour passed, but there was still no sign of Anne. Or

Patience.

When the door to the library eventually opened, Teach

turned, but it was only Margery coming to tell him that dinner

was ready.

2 5 5

He continued his pacing in the dining room, the maps on the walls almost mocking him.

Ten minutes later Miss Patience swept in, dressed in a low-

cut pink gown, a matching pink ribbon in her blond curls.

Teach held out her chair as she sat down.

“It appears we will be the only ones eating together,”

Patience said.

Teach paused as he pulled out his own chair. “Why is that?”

Patience cocked an eyebrow at Teach. “My father is resting

in his room and will have a tray sent up later.”

“And Anne?”

“I asked her if she would be joining us, but she didn’t answer.”

“Perhaps I should see if she needs anything,” he said, mov-

ing toward the door. He’d counted on Anne joining them.

“Edward, please. We both know she’s fine. It was ill-mannered

not to respond, but hardly surprising, considering . . .”

“Considering what?” Teach wished he’d thought of retiring

to his room.

Patience let out an exaggerated sigh. “Considering her

breeding.”

“Anne is not ill-mannered. Nor is she unkind. It’s very

possible she didn’t hear you,” he said tightly, doing his best to control his anger. One more word, and he would walk out of

the room.

Patience clearly picked up on his ire. “I did not come here

to argue with you. There is something important we need to

2 5 6

discuss. We haven’t had any time together, and I . . .” Her voice trailed off. Teach couldn’t remember the last time Patience had

looked so uncertain. “Please.”

With a heavy heart Teach returned to the table and sat

down, across from Patience. The clock on the mantel ticked

in time with his heartbeat. When the door to the dining room

opened and Margery brought in the first course, Teach barely

managed to hide his sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Margery,” Teach said with a slight smile.

“It’s good to see you smile,” Patience said. “You’re always so

severe these days.”

“No more severe than last year,” Teach said.

Patience winced as she picked up her spoon and began

eating. She waited until the Margery had left the room before

speaking again. “But you have changed, and no one can blame

you. I know your father is constantly harping on you about

one fault or another. I’m just saying that I recognize why you

seem more serious than usual.”

Teach gave a noncommittal shrug. The last person he

wanted to discuss with Patience was his father.

“Do you remember the first time we met? You and William

had just returned from school for the holidays. You teased me

mercilessly, and you stood there with a mischievous look on

your face, practically daring your father to rebuke you in front of his guests.” Patience sighed. “I thought you were the hand-somest boy I’d ever met. I still do.”

2 5 7

A part of Teach wished he could return her compliment, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It would be unfair to

Anne as well as to Patience.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” she asked.

Teach couldn’t help laughing at the memory. “It was awful.”

“It was sweet!”

“How can you say that?”

“Because it was. You were so hesitant. I thought I’d given

you enough hints—”

“Patience, please, stop. Whatever it is you wish to say, say

it and be done with it. I, too, have something I’d like to discuss with you.” If Teach couldn’t get his father to listen to reason, he hoped he could convince Patience to break off their betrothal.

Patience frowned, clearly not liking the abruptness of his

tone, but Teach could not let her continue.

She placed her spoon on the table and met his gaze. “All right.

I had hoped to approach this subject delicately, but since you

insist on bringing it out into the open, then so be it. Once we are married, you must promise me that you will never set sail again.”

Teach grew very still. “Must I?”

“Yes.”

“And why must I do that?”

“Because you will have no need to labor. That can be left

to those most suited to that kind of work,” Patience persisted.

“Such as your father and others like him.”

Teach stiffened at the slight. Despite their disagreements,

2 5 8

Teach was still proud of his father’s success, and knew it had come at the cost of great personal sacrifice. “My father’s hard

work is making it possible for your family to keep your ances-

tral homes,” Teach said. “I would not be so quick to reject his

contribution to this world.”

“I don’t reject his contribution. I recognize it for what it is.

A man who wants to come up in society by climbing on the

backs of his betters.”

“I’m sure my father would be pleased to hear how you hold

him in such high esteem. Perhaps we should discuss it with

him when he returns home. I wouldn’t want you to rush into

a marriage when you have such an obvious problem with his

background.”

Patience visibly paled, but she refused to back down. “She

said you would do this. She said you would try to break it off.”

“Who?” Teach asked, confused.

“My mother.” The smile on Patience’s face looked brittle

enough to shatter. “She said you would lose interest in me. That I wouldn’t be able to hold on to you. I told her she was wrong.

And I’ll prove her wrong.”

Teach remembered the competition that seemed to per-

meate the air when the two women were in the same room

together. “This has nothing to do with your mother, Patience.

Or your father. This is about us not suiting each other.”

“Of course we suit each other.”

He almost felt sorry for her, hearing the desperation in her

2 5 9

voice. “You know we don’t, not anymore. It’s time we acknowledged that. You don’t care for me any more than I care for

you.” He hated having to be cruel, but if she wouldn’t listen to reason . . .

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is, even if you’re afraid to admit it. And there is

something of even greater importance that I must tell you.

Something that will no doubt affect our betrothal.”

“Nothing will affect—”

“I’ve been accused of piracy.” Teach hadn’t meant to be so

blunt, but she refused to listen.

His words hung in the air between them. The only sound

in the room was the rain as it hammered the windows from the

outside.

Patience blinked once. Twice. “I see.”

Teach had prepared himself for a number of reactions, but

her calm acceptance of his statement wasn’t one of them.

Picking up her napkin, she dabbed at her mouth, before

placing the cloth beside her bowl. “Is that why your father is

not here?”

“Yes,” Teach said, unwilling to elaborate further.

Studying the table, she frowned. “Then that is all the

more reason to move forward with our wedding,” she said,

eventually meeting his eyes. “We will announce it this week-

end at William’s party.”

Stunned, Teach shook his head. “Did you not hear me? I’ve

2 6 0

been accused of piracy. I could be sent to the gallows.”

“My father is a peer of the realm. Once you join your name

with ours, nobody would dare hang you.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to remind Patience that her

father was merely a baron, not an earl or a duke, but he decided against it. His mother had tried to raise him as a gentleman.

“I’m fairly certain Lord Hervey would not share your opin-

ion. Once he hears about this, I’m sure he’ll want to break the

arrangement.”

“Nonsense. I know my father. He wants this union.”

Lord Hervey
needs
this union.

“Patience, it’s no use. This has to end. Even if by some mir-

acle I’m not sent to the gallows, you deserve better.”

She scowled, her eyes hard. “None of this would have hap-

pened if you hadn’t set sail in the first place.”

Teach’s own features hardened. She wasn’t at all affected by

the thought of him hanging, nor did she ask him if he was

guilty. She simply blamed him. Just like his father. “I will never regret my year at sea, but I know we would both have a lifetime

of regret if we ever married.”

Jumping to her feet, she shook her head at him. “I won’t let

you do this. I won’t!” she cried, and fled the room before Teach could stop her.

Slamming his fist down onto the table, he caused the spoons

and other cutlery to jump. Some of the soup spilled out of the

bowls. Pushing back his chair, he nearly toppled it to the floor.

2 61

With a sound curse, Teach strode from room, heading in the direction of the back entrance. He had to get out of the

house, before he lost his sanity completely. He didn’t mind the

rain, and he hoped that a ride in the country would do the trick.

Near the kitchen, he stopped when he found Sara alone.

“Has Anne’s meal been taken up to her yet?” he asked.

“She ate before she left, sir.”

“Left where?”

“She went into town with Elizabeth.”

“Did they walk?”

Sara gave Teach a strange look. “No, sir. They took the

carriage.”

Teach didn’t leave. For the next three hours he waited impatiently for Anne to return.

He retired to his room and sat in the large bay window

overlooking the courtyard, as the rain continued to pour down

from the skies. Although it was only four in the afternoon, it

was dark and gloomy, the storm clouds obscuring any light

from overhead.

He must have dozed off at some point, because the next

thing he knew, he jerked awake to the sound of voices. Looking

down at the muddy courtyard, he saw the carriage beside the

stable and two young boys holding the horses. The boys’ thin

shoulders were hunched forward in a futile effort to protect

them from the rain.

2 6 2

He recognized Anne’s cloaked figure as she spoke with Margery on her way inside, while Elizabeth and another young