The Bride of Blackbeard (24 page)

Opening the servants’ entrance door she
halted dead in her tracks. Sarah Hopkins stood waiting for her in
the kitchen, tapping her scrawny leg impatiently. Stanzy had only
seen the mistress in the kitchen once since her arrival.

Bess stood behind her, a look on her face
which said, ‘Hold ya tongue.’

The woman didn’t hesitate. “Constanza. It
has come to my attention that my daughter has tolerated going out
of doors daily for the past several weeks without incident. I am
very pleased with your progress. Therefore, I would like you to
have her ready for tea today, by one o’clock this afternoon, in the
drawing room. Several important ladies are visiting, and I would
like nothing better than for them to see my beautiful
daughter.”

“Umm, it is true, mum, that she has
tolerated being outside, but I really do not feel she is ready for
any sort of—”

“
Your
feelings are of no consequence
here. She is my daughter and you will do as I say. One o’clock
sharp,” she snapped, turned, and with her nose in the air vacated
the kitchen.

Stanzy hurried up the steps to Meg’s
apartment, Bess following at her heels. “Her royal tusspot has gone
and bit off more than she can chew this time.”

~ * ~

Abernathy sat in his room above the inn and
examined his notes. This assignment was slowly driving him to pull
out what little hair he had left. The wretched perfunctory spying
on such a villain was taking its toll on his countenance.

“
10 Novembre 1718

“To Governor Alexander Spottswood,
Virginia

“Born Edward Drummond—or, possibly, Edward
Teache, from Bristol, England—his direct ancestry, I have been
unable to discover as yet. He had begun his marauding career on a
Jamaican sloop in 1713 as a crewman, under the pirate Benjamin
Hornigold, a coincidence that I have extreme distaste for, and then
by the spring of this year of our Lord 1718, Blackbeard, as I have
begun to refer to him, had in his command four vessels, and up to
300 crewmen, until this May. His ships,
Queen Anne’s Revenge
and the
Adventure
, were lost at Beaufort Inlet, not far from
where I am writing this journal. I have been made aware that Stede
Bonnet ‘the gentleman pirate’ as he is called (as if there were
such a creature!), who once sailed with Blackbeard, escaped the
fate of his crewmen, who were all hanged two days previous to this
one. He is said to be at large and in hiding. I thought you should
know that Blackbeard double-crossed Bonnet in May when the ships
were marooned, so he will probably not provide any information as
to the whereabouts of Bonnet.

“As per our discussions, you were right in
surmising that Teache is continuing his marauding ways, even after
the pardon from Governor Eden. I believe, Governor Spottswood, that
you should indeed send the Royal Navy to intervene in his
treachery. Rum-running, piracy, and murder, possibly rape, just to
name a few of his current infringements on the pardon as he
continues to wreak havoc on the locals, who are just now
recognizing him for what he is.”

Abe stood and stretched his lanky frame. He
gazed out at the harbor and knew he could be idle no longer. Teache
was forever up to no good. It was imperative he find him again as
soon as possible and intervene.

~ Chapter Fourteen ~

Constanza forced down Megan’s hands from her
frilly frock for the twentieth time.

“Listen to me, sweet pea. Your mama wants
you to wear this dress. I know it feels itchy, just leave it on a
while and then we will come back upstairs and put your shift
on.”

Meg pulled at her collar. “You are Mama. Not
that...other lady.”

“No honey, she is Mama.”

Megan shook her little head in disagreement,
tossing curls back and forth, but said nothing further.

As Stanzy led Meg by the hand down the front
grand staircase, the child’s legs shook so badly she lost her
footing. Halting Megan at the bottom, she straightened the girl's
dress one last time.

In the drawing room sat four of the
best-dressed females Stanzy had ever laid eyes on. Each smiled
sweetly at Megan, who indeed looked absolutely beautiful with her
black curls all combed out and lying on her back—try as she might,
Stanzy still couldn’t get the little thing to tolerate anything in
her hair, due to her oversensitive skin and hair follicles.

Stanzy led Megan into the room, placed her
on a stool and sat directly behind her on a chair, poised to
intervene at the slightest outburst from her pupil.

~ * ~

Katrina took her finger and gently traced it
along the line of the mantel. Mrs. Drummond’s house was immaculate
and beautiful, and she was married to a sailor. Katrina was filled
with envy. What an exciting life she must lead with her husband
bringing home gifts to her from all over the world, and the waiting
for him after months of not being together. Indeed, if Edward
Teache were to ask for her hand, she would accept his proposal. So
what if he was overzealous to bed her. What man would not be? She
smiled at her reflection in the looking glass above the mantel,
giving her hair a little flip.

Her reverie stopped short when her eyes
fixed across the room and landed on a portrait.

She headed in that direction straightaway,
so single-mindedly she almost tripped on her petticoats. Then her
mouth dropped and her insides squirmed. Katrina felt violently ill
at the sight before her.

The portrait of Mr. and Mrs. Drummond was
indeed beautiful. The only problem was the man in the picture was
supposed to be
her
betrothed.

It was Edward. Edward Teache!

She plopped hard in the chair behind her,
and the room threatened to go black. But she willed it back with
her anger, intently staring at the portrait.

Her mind raced through the previous months
at the townhall dances, and the words echoed in her head:
“They
are never all into port at the same time, so we have never met one
another’s husbands.”
And the tide of massive pregnant bellies
swam into view as well. That was when she actually retched.

Her hands flew to her middle again, and she
inadvertently spoke out loud. “He almost had me, too, my
chastity—and me...
so willing
to give it to him.”

Angry tears spilled and she furiously swiped
them away with the back of her hand.

Mrs. Drummond hurried her descent down the
stairs, as fast as her stomach would allow, at the sight of
Katrina’s tears.

“Katrina darling, whatever in the world is
wrong?”

“Elisa, we have to talk.”
And I have
quite a few homesteads to visit
, she added under her
breath...

~ * ~

Bess entered the sitting room and handed Meg
a cup of water, as she refused to drink tea.

“So far, so good...” was all she’d muttered
when all order disintegrated.

Megan flung her head backward and tumbled
off the stool to the floor, her shrill shrieks echoing through the
manor. The ladies covered their ears in fright, and stared first at
her, and then her mother with revulsion. Megan's limbs shook and
her head banged off the wood floor as the fit ravaged her body.

Stanzy dropped to her knees. “Bess! Help
me!”

Bess flew back into the room and knelt at
Megan’s feet. They tried to keep her from hitting any nearby
objects as her tiny frame violently quivered.

“What is wrong with her?” said her mother,
from across the room.

“I will tell you what is wrong with her. The
Hopkinses are being punished for their sins, they both love their
belongings entirely too much!” said the most elegantly dressed
lady.

Stanzy barely heard the woman’s words. All
she could think of was how she was going to save this child from an
awful fate. She looked to the floor and her eyebrows knit together;
the dregs of water at the bottom of Megan’s cup contained water
tainted yellow.

~ * ~

Katrina swatted the reins on the chestnut’s
flanks. She wanted the horse racing at least as fast as her
mind.

How was this possible? Could Edward really
have fathered all these children? She thought of his forceful
advances and her mind screamed,
Yes!
How many children had
been at the town dances she’d attended, twelve? Fifteen?

Fifteen pairs of small brown eyes from the
town dance filled her memory. Eyes the color of chocolate—like
their father’s.

As she stepped through the gate of the white
picket fence, Mrs. Thatcher stood hanging sheets on the line to
dry. Around her in the yard were her three-year-old twin boys,
fighting over a kite. Her six-year-old girl handed her pieces of
wash from the overflowing basket at her feet. The woman's rotund
middle made it impossible to bend and retrieve them herself.
Through her thin shift, her protruding belly button was clearly
visible.

Katrina swallowed hard. How was she going to
shatter this woman's life?

“Good day, Katrina!” said Alissia as she
waved her chubby arm in greeting. This woman was perpetually happy.
Katrina had fleeting thoughts that perhaps she should leave it
alone. Once these words were spoken, the lives of this woman and
her children would be forever altered.

“Hello, Alissia. It is good to see you.”

“Come. Let’s have some tea, deary, and tell
me what brings you here?”

Inside, Katrina sat at the table and Alissia
handed her a cup. The boys raced around the table smacking one
another. Thankfully, their mother called a halt to their warfare.
“Enough! Take it outside!”

Alissia's expression turned shrewd. Staring
at Katrina, her eyes narrowed. “What is going on Katrina? You
look...well...forlorn. I have never seen you wear it, and it does
not become you!”

“How many years have you been married?”

“Why? For six and one-half years, why do you
ask?”

“I really do not know how to say this, so
please just take a look at this.”

She reached into her bag and retrieved the
portrait she’d taken from Mrs. Drummond’s house.

Alissia’s eyes widened and before Katrina
knew what was happening, the huge woman slid off the chair,
collapsing onto the floor in a heap.

An hour later, Katrina handed her a
handkerchief as Alissia repeatedly dabbed her eyes.

“How many are there?” Alissia said
pointedly.

When Katrina didn’t answer, the distraught
woman’s voice raised to a shriek. “How
many
?”

“Truly, I am not certain, but I am set on
finding them all and telling them.”

Horse’s hooves clopped up the stoned lane.
Katrina shot to standing so quickly she sent the kitchen chair
clattering to the floor as she raced to the window.

“It’s bloody Edward! I have to get out of
here, and my carriage is out front.”

“Go! Hurry. I will walk down to the lane and
try to distract him. Take the southern exit.”

Katrina’s heart was beating so hard she felt
as if she might pass out. Her breath flew in and out in furious
spurts, but she couldn’t catch it. She wondered how many of the
women she would be able to reach, as Edward was certain to figure
out her plan. She dashed as fast as her legs would take her down
the southern path. She was determined to reveal his ruse to as many
of his wives as she could before fleeing to StoneWater.

Stanzy had been right about him—and oooohhh!
She
hated
it when her sister was right.

A carriage approached, its rumble not far
off, so she vaulted to the side of the road into the thicket. She
peered through the brambles at the passing carriage, her breath
whistling out in relief. It wasn’t Teache. She waited until the
carriage turned at the bend in the road and continued on.
Recognizing it at once, she made her way up the lane to the
Threacher's home.

She knocked on the door; the afternoon air
seemed too still and silent.

Mrs. Threacher opened the door, her eyes
were red and bloodshot to match her flaming red hair, which stood
out at all angles. “Aloo, Katrina.”

“Yes, allo, Katrina,” said the voice of evil
from behind her.

Katrina turned and bolted from the porch,
heading toward the barn. She flung open the door and unharnessed
the only horse already saddled and kicked him hard as she headed
for the woods.

She glanced back toward the farm and spied
Teache's carriage hidden behind the barn.

She could hear the horse’s snorts on the
trail behind her. She should have ridden her horse down the road.
If he caught her on this trail, no one would hear her screams.

The sound of hooves drew closer as she urged
the horse into an open clearing. She kicked his sides like mad, but
it appeared Teache had chosen the younger horse. She could almost
hear him breathing. His horse pulled parallel to hers, and Teache
leaped across onto her horse, knocking her sideways from the saddle
to the ground.

Before she lost consciousness, she heard him
snarl, “That will be enough of talking to my wives. You could be my
favorite, Katrina. As a matter of fact,
you will
be my
favorite.”

From her prone position on the ground, she
felt a ring slip onto the fourth finger of her left hand.

~ * ~

Constanza heard them coming before she saw
them. She automatically stood and grabbed the musket from beside
her and dead bolted the door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Who’s there?”

“Mrs. Blackwell, it’s me Alphonse. Come
quick! Something right terrible is going on!”

~ * ~

Abernathy shifted in the saddle again, his
sores had sores, and he adjusted his spyglass to try and locate the
devil again. Teache was somewhere ahead of him on the road beneath,
returning to Hyde County from Beaufort. Abe had a bad feeling about
this. Teache had hurriedly left Hammock House after his attempt to
soil the young girl’s virginity had been interrupted. As far as Abe
had been able to track, Teache hadn’t seen her, or any other woman
for that matter, since his foiled debauchery. This was worrisome
since in his pursuit of Teache, not one day had passed, except when
he was out to sea of course, that the scoundrel hadn’t kept the
company of at least one woman. Abnormal behavior was never a good
sign.