Blackhearts

by Nicole Castroman

  Anger curled through Anne’s chest like a snake. Henry had lied to both parties, never suspecting that the truth would come out. “Henry told me you were a friend of his, and threatened to send me away if I caused any problems for you. I didn’t know if you knew my real identity, but I decided it didn’t matter.”

  Master Drummond’s mouth turned down at the corners. “Your father must have suspected that something like this would happen. I have reason to believe that part of Henry’s inheritance required you to be taken care of. And that is why he came to find you at the workhouse. I’ve sent a note to his solicitor.”

  “Taken care of how?” Anne asked.

  “Knowing your father as I did, I imagine he applied a stipulation that Henry would receive his portion of your father’s estate only if you lived under my roof. It didn’t matter to Henry how you lived here, so long as he could prove that you were indeed living in this household. I’m afraid we’ve both been ill used by the boy.” Master Drummond steepled his fingers, his mouth set in a flat line. “But you are not to blame yourself. Once we hear from the solicitor, we will get to the bottom of this.”

  Once again Anne was stunned. Teach had clearly done as he’d said and gone to his father upon reaching the Hervey estate. She was grateful that Master Drummond would take the time to set things right.

  “I would like to make amends. You will no longer work in my household. Instead you will take up residence in one of the guest rooms.”

  Anne started to protest. “Sir, that won’t be necessary—”

  Master Drummond cut her off with a wave of his hand. “I insist. You will be taken to one of the finest dressmakers in Bristol this week. Your father would want it this way.”

  Anne felt a warmth in her chest, knowing that her father had cared enough for her and her mother to see to it that they would be looked after.

  “What about Henry Barrett? Will you tell him what you’ve discovered?”

  Master Drummond’s mouth grew ugly and flat at the mention of Henry’s name. “I will take care of Barrett,” he said. “He will not bother you again.”

  Anne wished she could be as sure as Master Drummond, but she knew her half brother better than he did. Nevertheless, it was useless worrying about it now. She was still trying to come to terms with everything that had been said in the past half hour.

  “We will move your things to another room once one can be readied.”

  There weren’t many things to move. Aside from the pocket watch, Anne had only the few maid’s dresses she’d obtained when coming to work here. She couldn’t wait to see the looks on Margery’s and Mary’s faces when they discovered she was no longer subject to their every whim. Quite the contrary, they would now take their orders from her.

  “I suppose I should start to look for another cook,” Master Drummond muttered, ever practical.

  A sudden thought occurred to Anne. “I beg your pardon, sir, but the day your son returned, Margery brought in Ruth to help with all of the cooking. Ruth mentioned she had an older sister, Elizabeth. If she’s anywhere near as capable as Ruth, you’ll be in fine hands.”

  Master Drummond studied her. “Hmm . . . I shall have to give your suggestion some consideration. In the meantime, I would like you to go and gather your belongings. Wait, no, better yet, I will have Margery bring your belongings. I intend to have a word with her. It appears some things have been happening in this house of which I was unaware, and for that I apologize. I would dismiss her, except she has been quite loyal. If I threw her out, I’m not sure she would find employment elsewhere. I hope you understand.”

  Anne stood, sliding her watch into her pocket beneath the apron. A part of her wished he would sack Margery, but clearly Master Drummond had undergone some kind of change. And Anne knew only too well how hard it was to find employment. Where could the housekeeper go at her age? “Yes, of course, and thank you, sir. I don’t quite know what to say. This is all so . . . unexpected. And very generous of you.”

  Master Drummond shook his head as he too came to his feet. “I have been far too remiss in my duties as master of this house. My wife would be appalled to see how things have changed since her death.” With a bow, he turned and walked away, leaving Anne to stare after him, amazed at the turn of events.

  Master Drummond made good on his word and moved Anne into one of the spacious guest bedchambers on the second floor. Once she was left alone, she ran her hand over the soft comforter and sheets on the large four-poster bed, comparing them to the scratchy wool blanket she’d left behind.

  The blue curtains hanging at the windows were as beautiful as the clear sky beyond and reminded her somewhat of her room back home. Her father, although affluent, had never amassed as much wealth as Master Drummond. It would be impossible not to be impressed by the luxurious surroundings.

  Clutching a pillow to her chest, Anne remembered with glee the shocked look on Margery’s face when she’d discovered Anne would no longer be her inferior.

  And it was a good thing Anne wasn’t made of straw, because the look Mary had given her would have torched her right there on the spot. Every time Mary passed Anne, a wave of resentment rolled off her. Anne determined to be extra diligent where Mary was concerned. She wouldn’t be surprised if the girl ended up stealing from her.

  Sara had been the most pleasant, and Anne decided she would make Sara her lady’s maid. It had been Master Drummond’s suggestion. Anne’s status in the house was second only to Drummond’s, or so he claimed. He recognized Anne’s need for a female companion after they attempted to visit one of the dressmakers in the city, for it did not go as well as he had planned. The dressmaker had insulted him by assuming that Anne was his mistress.

  Master Drummond decided then that he would bring the dressmakers to the house.

  They came with bolts and bolts of fabric, from the smoothest silks to the richest velvets. Yards and yards of cloth in ivory, sand, light blue, and pink. Anne was overwhelmed with the variety and, at one point, tried to tell him that it wasn’t necessary to have a gown in every shade.

  “On the contrary,” he replied. “I can’t have you wearing the same dress every time you leave this house. What would people think? I’m your guardian, after all. And you may call me Mr. Drummond.”

  Since her father had never openly claimed her, Anne was reluctant to attach herself to the Barrett name. However, as an islander, Anne’s mother had had no legal surname, and it had been Anne’s father who had given her the Christian name of Jacqueline.

  As much as Anne enjoyed her new position and all of the finery that came with it, she also knew that even if you washed a pigeon with soap, it remained gray. She was still the illegitimate offspring of a merchant and a slave. And beneath Drummond’s kindness, she felt an undercurrent of disapproval. Whether it was directed at her or himself, she was not sure.

  Perhaps it was her own guilty conscience. Her thoughts turned to her secret stash of coins and household silver, including the valuable spyglass. She resolved to go to the city and try to recover the pieces she’d already sold, and hoped they would still be at the small shop. She had not yet returned the stolen objects to the household, hesitant to return all of them at once, for fear of discovery.

  Despite Drummond’s assurances, Anne wanted to make sure she was never left destitute again. She could still remember the fear in her mother’s eyes when Henry had kicked them out. In order to survive, both she and her mother had been forced to work until their bodies hurt.

  Life had been hard, but quitting had meant death.

  Anne was not about to quit now. If she needed to, for whatever reason, she could still escape on the Deliverance when it set sail, and start a new life elsewhere.

  CHAPTER 18

  Anne

  In a pale pink dress and looking as regal as a queen, Anne walked along the busy Bristol street in the afternoon sun, Sara at her side. Aware of m
any disapproving looks and whispered comments following her progression, Anne regretted her hasty decision to leave the confines of the Drummond household, but she’d been driven mad by her inactivity for the past four days and had resolved to do something about it.

  “You look like a princess, Miss Anne. Visiting from a far-off land. That’s why people are staring at you so.”

  Although it was nice of Sara to say, Anne knew that was not always the case. Before, when she’d been dressed as a simple maid, she’d glowered and scowled at anyone who had dared stare at her. Now she was no longer a nameless girl among many, but wore the clothes of a lady. Some people might be less inclined to be discourteous to her face, but that did not mean they accepted her. She doubted they ever would.

  As long as she remained in England, she would always stand out.

  Due to the number of pedestrians crowding the streets, Anne and Sara had left the confines of their carriage to walk up Broad Street. Their destination was a shop located near the parish of Saint John, a place for travelers to offer prayers before a journey.

  She’d had no idea how tedious her life would become when she’d accepted Drummond’s generosity. While she didn’t miss Margery ordering her around, Anne realized that being industrious had helped to pass the time more quickly, and now she found herself wandering through the large rooms of the house, not quite knowing what to do.

  Drummond himself had been absent the past four days. Despite the presence of the other maids in the house, Anne was lonely, and she’d wished more than once that she still had Teach’s book to read. Drummond’s library was stocked, but nothing caught her attention like the story of Dampier’s travels.

  Thoughts of the book naturally brought Teach to mind, and Anne wondered when he would once again return home. Not that it was any of her business. He was where he belonged, since he and Miss Patience were to be married.

  The thought of Teach and Miss Patience together left a bitter taste in Anne’s mouth, and she did her best to redirect her thoughts whenever they turned to him.

  “Are we almost there, Miss Anne?” Sara asked, noticeably unnerved by the number of pedestrians surrounding them.

  Anne nodded. “Yes, but I’d like you to wait outside the shop for me. It shouldn’t take long,” she said. She hoped that it wasn’t too late to retrieve the items from Drummond’s household, for it had been a month since she’d sold them.

  “I’ve never seen the streets so crowded before, miss.”

  “Nor I,” Anne admitted. The atmosphere among the throng could be described as festive, with an undercurrent of expectancy, as if the crowd were waiting for something to happen. Anne didn’t understand it and was therefore caught off guard. As far as she knew, it wasn’t a holiday.

  “How’s your mother?” Anne asked in an attempt to distract the girl.

  Sara frowned. “As well as can be expected. She’s able to get up a bit, but she still has an awful lot of pain.”

  “Perhaps you should take some time off to tend to her,” Anne suggested.

  Sara’s eyes widened. “Oh no. I can’t afford to do that, miss. All my money goes to help her, to pay for the doctor. If I don’t work, who will?”

  Sympathy tugged at Anne’s heart. “I don’t mean for you to quit. I’m simply suggesting you take a few days to be by her side. Heaven knows I don’t need you waiting on me hand and foot.” Aside from this excursion, Anne hadn’t gone out, except to walk through the gardens.

  What she wanted more than anything else was to take another ride through the countryside, but Sara didn’t know how to ride, and Anne wasn’t sure she’d want Sara to accompany her even if she could. “I shall talk to Mr. Drummond about it. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

  “But I can’t afford—” Sara began.

  Anne took Sara’s arm in hers. “Nonsense. I will help pay for any missed wages. There is no need for you not to be with your mother,” Anne insisted, knowing how important it was to care for loved ones, especially when they were ill. Drummond had given Anne some extra coins, in the event that he missed something while filling her wardrobe. Like with everything else he did, he had thought of every last detail, and Anne wanted for nothing.

  Except companionship.

  By sending Sara away, Anne would be sacrificing the one person in the house with whom she could converse, but she would feel even worse if she kept Sara by her side for selfish reasons. In truth, it was only a superficial relationship, and a few days apart would not make much of a difference to Anne.

  To Sara’s mother it could make all the difference in the world.

  “Thank you, An— I mean, Miss Anne. That’s most kind of you.”

  Smiling, Anne remained silent, grateful that the shop front appeared up ahead. But a sudden shout amidst the crowd drew her attention. She and Sara exchanged curious looks as answering cries could be heard along the street. People shuffled back and forth, and more than one stepped on Anne’s toes. Almost as one, the movement of the crowd surged forward, sweeping Anne up in its wake.

  Alarmed, she drew Sara’s arm more tightly through hers as they were jostled to and fro by the group surrounding them. “Stay with me, Sara,” Anne cried, her voice rising as she tried to speak above the noise of the throng.

  Torsos and shoulders bumped Anne from every side, and Anne heard the telltale rip of her hem. Unable to see above anyone’s head, Anne held on to Sara and hoped the two of them would not be separated. She had no idea what had caused the chaos. She only wished she could find a way out of the crush.

  “Miss Anne!” With a frightened shriek, Sara was torn from Anne’s side, her eyes wide with fear.

  Anne struggled to get back to the girl, but like a drop of water fighting against a current, it was no use. She lost sight of Sara’s terrified face as more people pushed in around her. Her own heart pounding, Anne fought a rising tide of panic. Elbowing her way through the mob and gasping for breath, it took her several minutes to reach the front stoop of a shop. It was not her intended target, but at least she was situated above the rest of the onlookers and had a clearer view of what was going on.

  Two sturdy horses pulled an open cart filled with five rough-looking men. It was clear they were some sort of prisoners, for their hands were tied with ropes.

  People jockeyed for a better position to see the cart, and the roar from the streets was thunderous. Anne couldn’t tell if the crowd jeered or saluted them, for some people threw produce, while others threw flowers. Frantic to find Sara and get out of the city, Anne searched for any sign of the girl, but to no avail.

  When the cart drew up in front of Anne, she couldn’t help staring at the men contained inside. They weren’t men at all. Beneath their scraggly facial hair and unkempt clothing, they appeared to be only a few years older than Anne herself, and an unexpected twinge of sympathy pierced her heart. She didn’t know what they’d done, but the hardened expressions on their faces spoke of a world of adversity and suffering that far surpassed her own.

  Raising her voice to be heard above the noise, Anne addressed an elegant woman pressed alongside her. “Who are they?” she asked.

  The woman gave Anne an incredulous look. “Have you not heard? They’re pirates. Caught stealing from several merchant ships and bringing their wares here to sell.”

  That was why so many people crowded the streets. No doubt hoping for a glimpse of the bandits. “Where are they taking them?”

  “Back to a ship for transport. They’ve just been questioned by the local constable.”

  Anne stared after the retreating cart, wondering what had driven the occupants to choose such a life. Had they done it to escape something, such as poverty and hunger? Or perhaps they had longed for a better future and had done the only thing they could think of to attain their goals. “What will happen to them now?”

  The elegant woman shrugged. “Most likely they’ll be taken to Exec
ution Dock in London and hanged,” she said, her voice detached. “That’s where all pirates go to dance the Marshal’s dance.”

  Anne didn’t know what the Marshal’s dance was, but she knew it couldn’t be good. The woman’s indifference upset her, although she couldn’t explain exactly why. Anne had never met those young men, nor did she know if they’d killed anyone. But their wasted lives were surely worth grieving. Did they have any family? Someone who would mourn their deaths once they were gone? If they’d been born under different circumstances, what could they have achieved?

  Watching the progression of the prisoners, Anne and the rest of the crowd waited until they disappeared from view. Slowly the throng dispersed, allowing movement once again along the busy street. Carriages proceeded with caution, and pedestrians bustled about, the spectacle forgotten as they continued with their daily lives.

  Anne remained where she was, trying to control her churning thoughts. Images of the five prisoners hanging from nooses taunted her, and she resolved to return Drummond’s items as soon as possible. If someone had caught her stealing, she would have found herself in their position.

  “Anne? What the devil are you doing here?” a familiar voice ground out beside her.

  Anne’s mouth went dry, and her heart clenched painfully in her chest.

  Teach.

  Turning, she met his thunderous green gaze, momentarily caught off guard by his proximity. She willed her tight throat to relax. “I . . . I, um, came into the city to do some shopping. With Sara. Oh, I have to find Sara!”

  “I just saw her and sent her home in my carriage. She was beyond worried, but otherwise unharmed. Why did you choose to come to the city, today of all days?”

  Relieved to know that Sara was all right, but annoyed at the criticism in Teach’s voice, Anne decided to launch her own offensive. “I didn’t know I needed to report my whereabouts to you. Your father doesn’t request it of me. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be with Miss Patience?”