Blackhearts (28 page)

girl, presumably Elizabeth’s other sister, scurried behind.

After racing down the hall, he took the back stairs, and

stopped in the doorway to the kitchen amidst a flurry of activ-

ity. Margery and Sara took the young girls’ soaking wraps and

placed them before the fire.

Out in the courtyard the two boys helped the driver unhitch

the horses from the carriage.

There was no sign of Anne.

Teach was anxious in his search for her, his heart tripping in

his chest. Less than three weeks ago he would not have believed

he could need another human being this much, but the desire

to see her was overwhelming.

He trailed a path of wet footprints leading to the front of

the house. Anne entered the dining room, still dressed in her

traveling cloak. He followed behind. “Anne?”

She whirled, an object in her hand flying until it bounced

on the rug and landed on the hard wood near Teach’s feet with

a loud
clank
.

Looking down, Teach saw a silver goblet reflecting the glow

from the fire in the hearth.

It was the goblet his father had given his mother.

And it was one of the items his father had said was missing.

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C H A P T E R 2 6

Anne

Anne watched as if in a dream while a range of emotions crossed

Teach’s face. Confusion, recognition, disbelief, and finally

anger. He picked up the goblet, his eyes glinting dangerously in the firelight as he turned it in his hand. “Why?” he asked.

The question pulled her out of her daze, and Anne blinked,

wishing she had a clever response to give. She was numb, her

mind unable to respond fast enough. She should have heard

him approach, but had been too intent on returning the stolen

items, her pulse racing.

It had been too easy. She’d gone to Elizabeth’s house and

spoken with her mother, explaining Mr. Drummond’s need of

a groom and another maid. Elizabeth’s two brothers, David and

Ian, had both volunteered for the job, as well as their sister Kate.

Leaving Elizabeth to help her siblings pack their meager

belongings, Anne had made a quick trip to the shop. There

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they had lain, behind the counter. The two spoons as well as the goblet. Anne hadn’t been able to believe her good

fortune.

It appeared her good fortune had now run out. “Margery

said you and the Herveys were in your rooms resting.” She

could not help the accusatory note in her voice.

“Aye, I was, but when I saw you arrive, I came down because

I wanted to speak with you.”

“About what?”

His eyes were those of a predator. “I wanted to know if you

would accompany me on a ride.”

“In this weather?”

Teach ignored her question. “Were you aware that this gob-

let was among the items my father believed had been stolen?”

He stopped, his dark eyebrows peaked, but when she didn’t

respond, he pressed on. “Did it magically appear in the cup-

board? Did you find it somewhere in the house? Some dusty

corner of the attic?”

She looked down as shame washed over her, but she wouldn’t

embarrass herself further with a poorly told lie.

“Tell me that you found this,” he said with quiet menace.

Shaking her head, she forced herself to meet his gaze. It

raised gooseflesh all over her. “I did not find it. I knew exactly where it was.”

“And where was that?”

“At a shop. Near the docks.”

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“That was why you didn’t want me to accompany you yesterday.”

“Yes.”

“Why? Why did you do it?”

Something bleak and angry rose within her, a memory of

how she’d first felt when she’d arrived at the Drummond estate.

“My life here was a prison, a drawn-out death sentence. You of

all people should understand that.”

“Perhaps, but I never stole from anyone.”

“You stole from Henry Barrett.”

“He deserved it.”

Anne didn’t wish to discuss the differences between their

crimes. She simply wanted to make her point. “In order to

escape this house, you threatened to join the navy.”

“But I would never have followed through with it.”

“Which makes you either a coward or a liar.” As soon as

she’d spoken, Anne realized she’d made a mistake, but it was too late to take the words back.

Teach went still, his face hard. They stared at each other in

wordless challenge. What seemed like an eternity passed.

Letting loose a string of foul words, he stalked toward her,

his broad shoulders blocking the warmth from the nearby

hearth. “My father must
never
find out about this, do you understand?”

Anne nodded, determined not to shrink from him. “Believe

me, I have no intention of telling him.”

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Gripping her by the arms, he gave her a slight shake. “How could you be so reckless? Do you have any idea what could have

happened to you if he’d discovered it was you who’d stolen from

him? Or worse, Margery?”

Breaking free of his hold, she went to stand before the fire,

trying to chase away the chill she’d felt since he’d first discovered her. “I did think about the consequences, but it was a chance I

was willing to take. A quick death was preferable to a slow suf-

focation of my life with Margery or your father—”

“Tell me, do you still regard this house as a prison?”

Whirling around, she glared at him. “At the moment, yes.

It feels as if the very walls are closing in, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from running away.”

Teach approached her again, his normally healthy com-

plexion ashen. “Don’t. Please don’t ever run away from me. I

understand why you did it. Do you think I don’t know how

stifling this house can be?” Cupping her chin, he tilted her

head back. “You must promise me never to do anything that

foolish again.”

Anne took a steadying breath, grateful she’d been able to

retrieve the three pieces and that she hadn’t sold any of the others. “I won’t.”

“Is there more?”

Picturing the chest hidden by the two willows, Anne was

nearly smothered by the weight of her guilt. She did not want

Teach to know the extent of her stealing. She could not stand to 2 67

see the look of hurt and betrayal in his eyes again. If she could find the right moments, the other items should be easy enough

to return.

Realizing that Teach still waited for her answer, she hated

her denial even as she spoke it. “No, nothing.”

She felt Teach studying her, and returned his gaze, trying to

convince herself that it wasn’t a complete lie. If she had her way, Mr. Drummond would give her her inheritance, and then she

wouldn’t need any of the stolen goods.

But until she was sure . . .

“Will you please join us for supper this evening?” Teach

asked. “I cannot endure another meal alone with Miss Patience.”

“And if I chose not to?”

Teach snorted. “I’ll come to your room and drag you to

supper myself.”

“You wouldn’t dare make a scene to that extent.”

“When it comes to you, Anne, I would dare a lot of things.

I told Patience about the piracy charges.”

Torn between hope and despair, Anne swallowed around

the tightness in her throat. “What did she say?”

“Not much.”

“Does Lord Hervey know?”

“Patience might have told him, although I haven’t spoken

with him myself. He hasn’t left his room since he arrived.”

Anne took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I wish there

were something I could do to help you.” It was in her nature to

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form some plan of action. Her father had often said that it was better to walk aimlessly than to sit idle, but in this instance she did not know how to change the situation.

“There is something you can do.”

“What?”

Margery came in, preventing Teach from answering. “Mas-

ter Drummond has returned. He would like to speak with you,

Mr. Edward.”

Teach’s head swung around. “He’s back already?”

“Aye, sir,” Margery said. “He’s waiting for you in his room.”

“I’ll be there shortly,” Teach replied.

Margery left as quietly as she’d entered. Anne reached for the

watch in her pocket, her fingers shaking. Teach’s eyes held hers.

“Come with me,” he said.

“He asked only for you.” As much as she wanted to find

out what had happened, a small part of her was afraid of the

outcome. Either way, he was lost to her.

Teach rubbed the back of his neck, his irritation and anx-

iety clear.

“I’ll wait for you in the library. Come and find me,” she said.

“Always.”

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C H A P T E R 2 7

Teach

“It’s over,” Drummond said, holding a glass of brandy in his

hand. He sat in an armchair and gazed up at the ceiling.

Teach’s heart gave a lurch. “What’s over?”

“The charges against you have been dropped.”

For a moment Teach was too shocked to respond.

“You will not be hanged for piracy,” his father said, giving

him an expectant look.

All the tension Teach had kept so tightly constrained was

released in a long sigh of audible relief. “How? How did you do

it?” he asked.

“My solicitor and I consulted, and I simply explained that

you had been aboard one of Andrew Barrett’s ships. You could

not possibly have committed those crimes. I prepared a list of

character witnesses for you, which took some time, but in the

end that wasn’t necessary.”

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“And the constable believed you?”

“He was interested in justice being served,” was his father’s

curt reply.

“What kind of evidence did they have against me?”

“The constable didn’t say. Nor did he say who had brought

the charges against you. But no matter. It’s over.”

Warmth radiated throughout Teach’s limbs, and he smiled,

knowing that his death sentence had been lifted. He understood

the unspoken part of his father’s comments. Constables were

unpaid volunteers, and Drummond’s pockets were deep. He’d

said he would do whatever it took to see the charges dropped,

but Teach hadn’t been sure whether his father would have been

willing to pay the constable, or if the constable would have even been willing to take a bribe.

But there was no doubt in Teach’s mind that that was what

had happened.

“I . . . I don’t quite know what to say, except . . . thank you.

Thank you, Father.”

Drummond waved his hand, looking ill at ease from Teach’s

gratitude. Teach knew better than to embrace him. It would

only make him more uncomfortable.

“It’s in the past. Don’t give it another thought.”

Within twenty-four hours his father had been able to avert

disaster. It seemed there was truly nothing his father could not do.

“And now there is nothing to stop you from marrying Miss

Patience.”

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Any feelings of euphoria were suffocated by his father’s statement.

“Did you hear me, Edward?”

“Yes.”

Drummond rose and poured himself another glass of

brandy. “Good. Then we will announce your wedding date this

weekend at your friend William’s party.”

“But we haven’t settled on a date.”

“Which is precisely why I asked Miss Patience and the

baron to come here. I understand they arrived early.”

“They did.”

“I should have been here to greet them.” His tone implied

it was yet another grievance against Teach. Sitting down,

Drummond pinched the bridge of his nose, a sure sign that

the conversation was over. But Teach wasn’t willing to end it

just yet.

“Father, I don’t want to set a date for the wedding.”

Lowering his hand with exaggerated deliberateness,

Drummond pinned Teach with a glare. “What did you say?”

Teach refused to back down. “I don’t want to set a date for

the wedding. There’s no need to rush.”

“There is also no reason to wait.”

“Yes, there is. I told Miss Patience about the charges.”

“You should have waited for me to return. I had planned to

tell Lord Hervey myself, once your name was cleared.”

“Don’t you think he might change his mind now?”

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“The baron is not in a position to change his mind. He is on the brink of financial ruin.”

“But I just arrived home.”

“Yes, from a year at sea that very nearly cost you your life.

Do you have any idea what I did for you today?” his father

demanded, his voice rising with each word.

“Yes, and I’ve already told you that I’m thankful, I truly am.

But I think it would be best to wait. My feelings for Patience

have changed. She is no longer the girl I wish to spend my life

with, and I am quite sure she feels the same about me. If you

forced us to marry, we would both be miserable.”

“That is not your decision to make.”

“How can you say that? It’s my life we’re discussing, not yours.”

“And you have proven that you are incapable of making

good decisions.”

Turning from his father, Teach caught sight of the portrait

hanging above the fireplace, his mother’s kind eyes smiling

down on him. “If mother were alive, she would let me make

them. Why can’t you?”

The air seemed to escape his father’s lungs at the mention

of his wife. “I will not argue with you. Not now. I am too tired for this. We will continue this conversation after I have rested.