Blackhearts

by Nicole Castroman

  “It would never work,” she said, desperate to stop this madness, for that was what it was.

  He stepped forward, his face flushed with emotion. “Please,” he whispered. “I love you, Anne. Nothing is more important than that.”

  Anne shook her head, shutting her eyes in an effort to clear her mind. “No. I’m sorry. It’s not right.”

  Teach stood still, his mouth a thin line. “I’m not giving up,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “You belong with me, and I will make you see that. I’ll talk to my father—”

  “You know he won’t change his mind. Please don’t make this more difficult than it has to be,” Anne pleaded, tears ­running down her cheeks. “Please, just stop.”

  He studied her, anguish visible in every line on his face. Without another word he turned on his heel and strode off, ripping at the hanging branches of the willow. Anne held one hand to her stomach, sick with despair.

  Teach was right. She loved him. Anne wasn’t sure how or when it had happened, but she recognized as much as he did the strength of her feelings. It could have been the time they’d spent together, reading and discussing Dampier’s book. Teach saw Anne as his equal, and wanted to hear her thoughts and opinions.

  It could be that their visit to his mother’s cottage had stimulated the first stirrings of affection. He’d been so pleased when she’d recognized its simple beauty.

  Anne had missed Teach when he’d been away at the Hervey estate, more than she’d been willing to admit. It was Teach who set her heart racing. When she closed her eyes at night, he filled her dreams, and when she opened them the next morning, he filled her thoughts. All of this should have acted as a warning, but Anne was untested in the art of love.

  If Anne or Teach went against his father’s wishes, Richard Drummond would not hesitate to throw them out. Without a penny between them, where could they go? What kind of a life could they lead? Teach was drawn to the sea, like a willow to water, but as adventurous as Anne was, a ship was no place for a woman for an extended period of time.

  She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, in an effort to stop the thoughts swirling through her head. She hoped to be able to talk Mr. Drummond into giving her the three thousand pounds her father had left her, more now than ever.

  She could not stay here and idly stand by while Teach married another woman. Nor could she stay in the same city where she might run into him at some point. She needed to leave England. It was clear that when the Deliverance set sail, Anne had to be on it.

  But she would have to wait until the inquiry was resolved, before she could approach Teach’s father.

  Drained of energy, as if her stroll through the garden had been five times the distance, Anne headed back to the manor. With a heavy heart she entered the courtyard. Hearing the sound of an approaching carriage, she turned. After pulling the two horses to a stop beside the house, the driver jumped down to open the door. Miss Patience had returned.

  CHAPTER 25

  Teach

  Lord Hervey directed the coachman regarding the unloading of their trunks, which signified a rather lengthy stay. The Herveys were early. His father had said they wouldn’t arrive until the next day.

  “What is she doing?” Patience snapped, looking over Teach’s shoulder.

  “She lives here,” Teach said, turning to see Anne approaching.

  Patience shot him a sharp look, not bothering to hide her displeasure at his short remark. “Yes, I know that, but why is she in that cloak? Is that one of mine?”

  “No. My father had it made for her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she is his goddaughter,” Teach said.

  “How can that be? She’s a maid.” Patience did not lower her voice, and there was no doubt that Anne heard her.

  Teach attempted to speak in quieter tones, hating the fact that Patience spoke about Anne as if she weren’t there. Neither he nor his father had told the Herveys of Anne’s true identity. “She is no longer a maid. There was a misunderstanding.”

  “What kind of misunderstanding?”

  Anne arrived at their side as Lord Hervey turned back to them, and greetings were exchanged. The four moved toward the house, but Anne allowed both Patience and the baron to separate her from Teach.

  “Mr. Drummond was not given an accurate account of my family’s standing,” Anne said. She looked so calm walking 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. 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 leaving Teach alone with Patience. “You look well. Are you recovered?” he asked, hoping Patience wouldn’t question him further about Anne.

  “Yes, quite. It was nothing serious.”

  “How is your mother?”

  “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.

  “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 abiding 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.

  He continued his pacing in the dining room, the maps on the walls almo
st 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, moving 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 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 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 handsomest boy I’d ever met. I still do.”

  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, 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 ancestral 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 permeate 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 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 weekend at William’s party.”

  Stunned, Teach shook his head. “Did you not hear me? I’ve 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 opinion. 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 ­miracle I’m not sent to the gallows, you deserve better.”

  She scowled, her eyes hard. “None of this would have happened 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 re
gret 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.

  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.

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