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Blackhearts

Page 27

by Nicole Castroman


  “My name’s Cara Flynn. What’s yours?”

  “Anne Barrett.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Anne Barrett. Would you mind if Coyle and I kept you company? I have no wish to spend any more time in my hammock than necessary.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded,” Coyle muttered.

  His sister frowned. “Then you can go back down. I told you I’d be fine up here.”

  “I couldn’t remain in my cabin any longer either,” Anne said, shivering at the thought of the rats and cockroaches.

  “You’re lucky you have a cabin. Coyle spent the whole night making sure no one harmed us. But the only thing that came close to bothering me was a cheeky rat who took a liking to my ankles.”

  Anne grimaced. “Lucky” was not a word she’d use to describe her present situation, but having her own cabin was far better than sleeping with the rest of the passengers in hammocks belowdecks.

  Excusing herself, Anne moved away from the siblings as they continued their discussion of the numerous dangers on board the ship. Despite the chaotic running and shouting of the crew, Anne felt strangely removed from everyone and everything around her.

  She drew a deep breath, her stance wide to maintain her balance. Looking toward the stern, Anne watched the white-capped waves that seemed to form a path trailing behind the back of the ship. That path led to Teach.

  Even as Anne tried to block out the seriousness of her situation, it continued to plague her thoughts. The fact that she sailed on the Providence instead of the Deliverance made her ability to reunite with Teach incredibly difficult.

  Difficult, but not impossible.

  It would not be an easy journey. For either of them. But he would come for her, of that she was certain. And she would not give up until he found her or she found him.

  Lifting her head, Anne turned and studied the open ocean in front of the ship. The initial shock of leaving England was beginning to wear off. Admittedly, she’d hoped to leave under different circumstances, but she would survive this voyage.

  She had to.

  And one day she and Teach would be together again, for it was just as he’d said. They could be on opposite sides of the world, but she would always be his, and he would always be hers.

  CHAPTER 37

  Teach

  The congested dock fairly groaned beneath the weight of the assembled crowd. Anticipation was everywhere in the city, on the streets and in the water. Children cried, parents bickered, and clever tradesmen called out their wares for sale. With a group this large, there were sure to be several hungry individuals.

  Everyone had come to see the launch of the largest galleon ever built. The Deliverance rocked in the swell under full canvas. It was an awesome sight, like a preening peacock, as if aware of all the attention. The eager men of the crew stood at attention, squinting against the morning sun, small arms draped from their shoulder belts.

  Richard Drummond himself stood before the group, dressed in a velvet coat and silk waistcoat. On his head he wore a powdered wig, and the silver buckles of his shoes glinted in the sunlight. The mayor of Bristol droned on and on about the importance of this day and how proud the city was to have such an esteemed merchant in their midst.

  For his part, Drummond’s eyes searched the crowd, a cheerless look on his face. Despite this being one of the most anticipated days of his life, he appeared unable to muster even the slightest hint of a smile.

  Teach stood back, his square jaw once again covered with several days’ growth, his hair pulled into a knot beneath his hat. He stared at his father, as one would stare at a stranger. Teach had always felt affection for the man. Even when Drummond had been at his most demanding, deep down Teach had yearned for his father’s approval and affection.

  Not now. Not after what Drummond had done.

  Teach and John had spent the past six days searching the docks and ships of Bristol for the two men, but they hadn’t been able to find them. Teach and John had also made more inquiries into the Providence. It belonged to another merchant but was nowhere near as large or grand as the Deliverance. It would call on several ports in the West Indies. Teach refused to believe he was too late to catch up to it.

  He would have set sail on another ship if he’d found one heading out sooner, but the journey often took months to prepare for, and the Deliverance was the next vessel leaving port.

  Teach had given Kaiser to David. He could not take a horse with him where he was going.

  That morning, as Teach had wandered the city streets, people had drawn back in fear and revulsion when they’d seen him, for he was covered in mud and grime. They’d whispered behind his back, pointing fingers at the unsightly figure before them.

  Teach had been numb to it all. He hadn’t had any feelings left. Until he’d seen his father.

  Teach’s was one face among hundreds on the docks, and Teach did not fear discovery. On his feet he wore stout calf-hide boots. He had the old jacket and floppy hat John had given him. Once again his face and hair were unkempt, and his father would have a hard time recognizing him.

  Teach watched as his father addressed the crowd briefly. There was a haunted look in his eyes, and his was the face of a man suffering.

  Teach knew instinctively that if he would simply show himself, his father would recover, but Teach was unwilling to move. His father would make him stay in Bristol, and Teach could not accept that fate. Everywhere Teach looked he was reminded of Anne. The pain of her absence hadn’t dulled. He was constantly aware of the knowledge that she was somewhere far away and he couldn’t reach her.

  Teach’s eyes moved over the crowd, but they paused briefly on the familiar sight of William and Patience standing together, William’s arm draped protectively around her. Teach’s mouth tightened slightly, but he gave no other response.

  Swinging his bag of belongings onto his back, Teach pushed through the throng. In his bag were the things he’d packed from the house, and in Teach’s pocket was the ring he’d planned to give Anne.

  As Teach approached the boarding plank, he reached for the papers in his waistcoat and handed them to the stocky young man near the plank. On Teach’s instructions, John had paid the original first mate a tidy sum not to report that morning, allowing Teach to take his place. The first mate was a representative of the merchant owner, and in most cases, he could not be removed from his office by the captain of the ship.

  A cheer went up as the assembly dispersed, people jockeying for a better position to watch the mighty Deliverance set sail.

  “You’re late,” the man said, giving Teach a once-over.

  “I know,” Teach said shortly. It hadn’t taken much for him to mimic his father’s signature on his papers. He’d mastered the art when he’d been a schoolboy and Drummond had taken Teach to his office once in a while, before Drummond had decided that a merchant life was no life for his son.

  “I wonder what Richard Drummond would say if he knew you cared so little for your post,” the man said doubtfully.

  Teach nodded. “You’re free to go and ask him yourself, . . .” He waited for the young man to supply his name.

  “Jack Thurston.”

  “Well, Jack Thurston, you’re free to go and ask him yourself, but he’s a very busy man. If you want to waste his time—”

  Jack shook his head. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

  Teach was an imposing figure, and he knew how to use his size to his advantage. He was quickly learning that he didn’t need to employ force to get what he wanted.

  “Are you as good a first mate as they say?” Jack asked.

  Teach didn’t know what kind of rumors John had spread, but he could imagine they’d been slightly exaggerated.

  “Aye, I am.” There was an undercurrent of danger in Teach’s nearly blank expression.

  Jack obviously assumed that Drummond had emplo
yed Teach at the last minute, knowing what a target the Deliverance would provide out on the open sea. Any sloop out there would have heard of the galleon’s maiden voyage and know what a coup it would be to capture such a ship. Most of the Deliverance’s crew was former soldiers, prepared to fight if any pirates dared show themselves. “Well, then, what’s your name?” Jack asked. “I can’t read this chicken scratch.”

  Teach studied Jack for a moment. “The name is Edward Teach.”

  Jack nodded. “Good enough, although I think ‘Edward’ is too fine a name for you. If you intend to look like a street urchin and smell like a sow, I shall have to call you something else.” He looked Teach over from head to toe, noting his shabby black hair and beard. “You’re no dandy. I’ll call you Blackbeard. Welcome aboard.”

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  I am a self-diagnosed history nerd and I’m not afraid to admit it. Trivial facts, random dates, and important battles are fascinating to me. So when my family decided to take a trip to Charleston, South Carolina in August 2012, I did what I always do: studied the history of the place. Did you know that Blackbeard the pirate actually blockaded the port city of Charleston and held it hostage in May 1718? His only demand was medication. That discovery got me thinking—what kind of man was Blackbeard? And what made him become one of the most notorious pirates to sail the seas?

  And so the spark of Blackhearts was ignited.

  Apparently, only the last few years of Blackbeard’s life are documented. He went by the name of Edward Teach, although no one knows if that was his real name. Some records indicate his last name was Drummond, but nobody can truly verify this fact. Pirates often changed their names to protect their families at home. It’s believed that Blackbeard was educated, because he could read and write. That meant he had to come from a wealthy family, because only the prosperous could afford tutors or any form of schooling at the time.

  He was large in stature and changed his appearance to intimidate people. Some records indicate that Blackbeard was amiable and almost forgiving and generous with those who cooperated with him, but he could be ruthless and merciless to those who fought or challenged him. Despite reports of his cruelty, there are no reports of his having killed anyone until the last battle that eventually took his life. Unlike other pirates at the time, he didn’t torture victims for fun. I don’t mean to imply that he was a good person. He wasn’t, but many of the rumors surrounding him were exaggerated because of the demonic appearance he himself tried so hard to cultivate.

  Blackbeard’s flagship was named the Queen Anne’s Revenge, so I knew that I wanted the female lead to be called Anne. An image of a beautiful girl with striking blue eyes, thick black hair, and copper-colored skin came to mind, and she stuck with me. I needed someone who would be able to hold her own against such a compelling figure as Edward Teach, and I think Anne is the perfect companion for him.

  The idea for Anne’s background was inspired, in part, by my husband, Miguel. Miguel was born in Uruguay, but his family moved to Germany when he was nine years old. (His father was Uruguayan, his mother German.) My husband has often said that he feels like a man without a country. In Germany, people called him “the Uruguayan.” In Uruguay, they called him “the German.” Here in the States, people expect him to look a certain way, because his name is Miguel, but physically, he favors his German ancestors. This was the impetus for part of Anne’s identity—someone caught between two cultures—although Anne’s conflict is far greater than my husband’s.

  I chose to have Anne’s mother come from an island in the West Indies. The island of Curaçao was originally inhabited by the Arawak peoples who migrated from South America. When Europeans first landed there, they brought with them diseases that killed a number of the indigenous people. The Arawaks who survived were forced into slavery. Eventually, the Spaniards left the island because it lacked gold deposits, but the Dutch quickly claimed it for themselves in 1634. In 1662, the Dutch West India Company made Curaçao a center for the Atlantic slave trade, often bringing slaves there before taking them to other Caribbean islands for sale.

  I decided to make Anne’s father an English merchant who traveled extensively and who tried, in part, to shield Anne from the prejudices of the population. In England at the time, the notions of race were hopelessly confused, as any person of color was routinely and wrongly categorized: Africans with Arabs, Indians with South Asians. Indeed, blacks and Indians were often interchangeable in the popular mind. There was already a large division between the aristocracy and the poor inhabitants of the country. Records show that historically, people of color had long been part of the English court, but in contrast to the rest of the population, their numbers were significantly smaller. The majority of slaves who survived the horrific transatlantic journey from Africa were forced to work in the American colonies or the islands in the Caribbean under unspeakable conditions. Very few were actually taken to the British Isles.

  The British led the Atlantic slave trade for more than one hundred years, and the port cities of Bristol and Liverpool thrived during this time. Between 1700 and 1800, Liverpool’s population rose from five thousand to seventy-eight thousand. The money earned from the slave trade helped finance the Industrial Revolution.

  Ironically, there was a ruling made in 1697 by Chief Justice Holt of the King’s Bench that claimed that as soon as a slave lands in England, he is free. Not everyone heeded the ruling and people of color were often left to beg in the streets, and were refused positions because of their race.

  I wanted part of Anne’s inner conflict to be the desire to see more people like her, to have a sense of belonging and connection with them. Not only had her father tried to shelter her from prejudice and racism, but he had often promised to take her to the West Indies. With his death, that link was lost, until she ultimately determined to make the journey herself.

  I admit to taking a few liberties with this story. I do think of it as a Blackbeard origin story, but it’s Anne’s story as much as it is Teach’s. It’s my idea of what would lead someone to leave everything he knew and set out on a life of piracy. Blackhearts is about two young people trying to find their way in the world and discover where they belong. It’s also about how those two people meet and fall in love. I hope readers love the story as much as I do.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  It’s both incredible and humbling to think of all the people who helped make this book possible. First of all, an enormous thank-you goes to my amazing editor, Sara Sargent. Working with you has been a privilege and an honor. You understood what I wanted to write from the beginning, and without your valuable insight, Anne and Teach’s story wouldn’t be what it is today.

  To the remarkable publishing team at Simon Pulse, who helped make this dream of mine come true: Mara Anastas, Mary Marotta, Liesa Abrams, Kayley Hoffman, Carolyn Swerdloff, Teresa Ronquillo, and Nicole Ellul. Thank you so much for all of your support! Karina Granda, you rendered me speechless with the beautiful design for the cover. I couldn’t have asked for a more accurate symbol of Anne and Teach’s struggle. And to Sarah McCabe, Rio Cortez, and Danielle Esposito, thank you for taking the time to read the manuscript and making sure I told Anne’s point of view the way it should be told.

  Quinlan Lee, I will never forget the day I received your e-mail asking if we could have a chat. You were an answer to my prayers and I will always be grateful to you for being such a huge champion of this book.

  Thank you also to Tracey Adams, agent extraordinaire, who took me on. Your knowledge of and passion for the industry lets me know I’m in very capable hands. A special shout-out to Josh Adams, who came up with the brilliant title for this book. And to Samantha Bagood, your feedback was greatly appreciated. I’m incredibly blessed to be a part of the Adams Literary family.

  There have been many writerly friends who’ve supported me on this journey. I’m grateful to Anne Perry, über-talented murder-mystery author and longtime f
amily friend. I’ll never forget your encouragement and our discussions about characterization and plot. To my sister from another mister/critique partner, Becky Wallace: I wouldn’t have made it this far without you, cyber best friend. One day we will get to hang out together. Thank you also to Caroline Richmond and Lynne Matson for being awesome betas.

  Thank you to the many book bloggers who’ve already shown incredible support and excitement for Blackhearts.

  I have several nonwriterly friends who’ve helped me along the way. Dionne Matthews, Brandee Hammett, Andrea Stroud, Sam Loveland, and Becca Castleton, thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedules to read for me. Of course I couldn’t have written as much as I did without the help of Janine, Sydney, and Jake Simpson, as well as Holly and James Loveland. Thanks for being there for me throughout this entire process and entertaining my kiddos while I pursued my dream.

  To my mother, Doris S. Platt, you always encouraged me to write. You knew I would love it, because you taught me to love books. You were right! To my father, James S. Platt, you taught me the importance of getting up every day and going to work, no matter what. To my siblings Andrea Christiansen and Cameron Platt and their families, thank you for listening to me when I talked about my story ideas. For my twin sister, Kirsten Major, I’m so glad I had you by my side. Not everyone is as lucky as we were to come with our very own best friend. Your family is lucky to have you! To my in-laws, the Castroman/Perez clans, thanks so much for all your support.

  And finally to my beautiful family: Sophia and Anthony, you are my everything and I’m proud to be your mother. You always believed in me. Thank you for understanding when I said, “Mommy has to write.” And to my Miguelo, I knew when we first met that you were the one for me. Without your encouragement I wouldn’t have made it this far, and I’m thankful for every day we spend together. Te amo mucho.

 

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