Blackhearts

by Nicole Castroman

  “And you are obviously opposed to such feelings.”

  Master Drummond spun to face her. “Of course! How could I be otherwise? Such a union would be impossible.”

  “Why is that?” Anne shot back, her voice laced with acid.

  “Because of your position in society.”

  Anne was beyond caring what she said. In that moment, she realized there wasn’t anything from the outside that could beat her. If she let it, it would come from within, but not if she fought against it. “My position in society?”

  He pulled at his collar but remained silent.

  “Despite what you think, I’m not a criminal. I made a mistake, yes, but what makes you think you’re so superior to me? You’re a merchant, just like my father.”

  “Yes, but your mother was a—a . . .” He clearly couldn’t bring himself to say the word.

  “A slave,” Anne said proudly. She would not allow him to slander her mother. Jacqueline, at least, had done nothing wrong. “You would blame her for the color of her skin?”

  “I wasn’t going to say it,” Drummond snapped. Going to the door, he called for Margery.

  Suddenly Anne’s desire to act was like a physical pressure, pushing from within. The rope that she felt around her neck when she was under this roof had tightened into a noose.

  She raced for the door, but was brought up short by the appearance of two men. They caught her arms in a painful grasp. Anne almost wished Mr. Drummond had contacted the constable. She fought against the men’s hold, but they simply tightened their grip.

  “After you write the letter to Edward, these men will escort you to the White Stag, where you will stay until you set sail. Once you reach the West Indies, I’m sure your mother has some relatives who would take you in. Where you can be with your own—with people who are your family,” he quickly amended.

  “You mean where I can be with people of my own kind.”

  “I said ‘family,’” he said, his voice terse.

  If Anne had had something to throw, she would have. Preferably at his head. “If I do have any living family, they’re even more of a stranger to me than you are. But I would sooner stay with them than spend another night in this house.”

  There was an awkward moment of silence, until Drummond nodded. “Good-bye, Anne. I wish you luck.” With that, he motioned for the two men to take her. Anne was led out of the room, her shoulders back and her head held high.

  CHAPTER 33

  Teach

  Teach stared out the carriage window at the pouring rain and blackened sky. The ring in his pocket was practically burning a hole through the material. His insides bubbled like a pot boiling over, and he couldn’t wait to give the ring to her. His Anne. Sweet, strong, beautiful Anne.

  Teach’s mother had often told him that good people brought peace. That was precisely what Anne did for him. Oh, she could arouse his temper like no other girl ever had, but it was her strength and depth of character that had attracted him to her in the first place.

  That and her unmistakable beauty.

  Teach’s pulse picked up as he neared his father’s house. The large, gray exterior no longer filled him with dread. Ever since his mother had died, Teach had felt trapped, unable to do as he chose.

  But now his father could not prevent him from marrying Anne.

  The Deliverance would set sail within six days, but he would not be on it. There was no need. He was as happy as he’d ever been, and nothing was left to stand in the way of his happiness.

  He sprang from the carriage and tore up the stairs. Inside the house all was still. Anne must be upstairs, changing, Teach thought. He headed for her room on the second floor, but stopped in his tracks when he discovered Margery on the landing. She stood in the dim light, a dour look on her face. “Your father is asking for you, sir.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Teach said quietly.

  “He wishes you to come immediately.”

  “I will, as soon as I’ve spoken with Miss Anne.”

  “It has to do with her,” Margery said, the distaste in her tone obvious.

  If the old woman wasn’t careful, Teach would still talk to his father about sacking her. Following Margery to his father’s room, Teach placed Anne’s ring in his pocket. Now would be as good a time as any to approach his father about marrying Anne.

  The room was ablaze with candlelight, and his mother’s portrait above the fireplace seemed to smile serenely at him.

  “Good evening, Father. You’re looking well.”

  “Thank you, Edward. Please, sit down.”

  Teach noticed the tense lines in Drummond’s shoulders, and his instincts told him something was wrong. Not wanting to argue, he took a seat and waited.

  Drummond stepped to the side, and it was then that Teach noticed a small coffer on his father’s dressing table.

  “Did you know of Anne’s propensity to go for long walks?” Drummond asked.

  “Yes,” Teach said warily. What a strange question.

  “Did you ever follow her?”

  “No, I never followed her. There were times when I accompanied her.”

  “Have you ever observed her doing anything . . . out of the ordinary?”

  Anxiety settled in Teach’s stomach, like an unwelcome guest who would not leave. He remembered the time when he’d caught her returning the items she’d stolen. “Never.”

  “Do you recognize this chest?” Drummond continued.

  “No.”

  “Her name is engraved on it.”

  “Then it belongs to her.”

  Drummond made an ugly sound. “But the contents inside do not.” He unhooked the latch and flipped the lid back before tipping the chest forward. Inside were a few pieces of household silverware and coins. There was even an ornate spyglass, one Teach recognized as his father’s favorite. The one his father had claimed was missing.

  His heart thundering anxiously, Teach shook his head. “There—there must be some kind of explanation,” he stammered, staring at the objects like they were a poisonous serpent.

  “Yes, there is a perfectly good explanation. Anne stole them.”

  Teach ran his tongue over dry lips, trying to fight down a rising sense of panic. “We don’t know that.” But he did. Hadn’t he caught Anne red-handed?

  “Edward, it’s useless to pretend otherwise. Margery followed Anne and discovered the chest hidden among the willows. While I have been quite generous, I have not given her leave to take anything from this house. Please, do not do me the disservice of trying to pretend otherwise.”

  “I’m not trying to pretend anything. I’m simply trying to understand it from Anne’s perspective. You treat your ­employees only marginally better than someone else would treat their slaves, and yet you seem surprised that someone would steal from you. Perhaps she did it because you barely gave her enough to survive on.”

  His father’s face turned a deep shade of puce. “I have never had trouble with my servants before now.”

  “That’s not true and you know it,” Teach said.

  Drummond went to the decanter near his bed. He poured a glass of brandy and downed the contents. “It doesn’t matter. The damage is done.”

  Teach tried to come up with a reasonable explanation he could give his father. She’d told him there was nothing else. He’d believed her. If he’d known she’d taken this much . . . What would he have done?

  It didn’t affect the way he felt about her. He was disappointed, yes. And frightened for her. If only she’d confided in him. He could have returned everything himself, and his father would never have found out.

  Drummond placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I know this must come as quite a shock to you, Edward, and I’m sorry for that. I’ve seen how you look at her. I know that you care for her. There is no denying she’s attractive. No
t as attractive as Miss Patience, in my opinion . . . But the fact remains that Anne is nothing more than a common crook.” He shook his head ruefully, turning back to the damning chest and closing the lid with a loud bang. “And to think I offered her shelter. To think I somehow felt obligated to watch out for her.”

  Teach jumped to his feet. “You’re wrong. Anne deserves our protection. And our love. If it hadn’t been for her, you would have made me marry Patience. You said so yourself.”

  “When it comes to Anne, I am often—mistaken,” Drummond said gruffly. He made a face, as if the word left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I should contact the constable.”

  “You can’t,” Teach said. “She’s Andrew Barrett’s daughter. You promised him you would take care of her.”

  “I did, but that was before I knew she would behave like this. She should be hanged, but I won’t have her blood on my hands. She’s gone now.” His father’s voice wrapped Teach in its destructive web. “She used you, Edward. I hope you see that now. She doesn’t care for you.”

  “What have you done?”

  Drummond retreated a step, his hands raised in a defensive gesture at the look on Teach’s face. “If you don’t believe me, see for yourself. She left you a note.”

  A cold fist clenched around Teach’s heart as he grabbed the paper Drummond pulled from his pocket.

  Dear Edward,

  By the time you receive this, I will be gone. I’m sorry I did not get the opportunity to say good-bye, but it’s for the best. We’re not right for each other, and it was wrong of me to allow you to believe otherwise. I regret my actions, for I never had any intention of staying. We both know what my greatest desire in life was, and now I am achieving it. You deserve a queen, Edward. Go and find her.

  Always,

  Anne

  Teach shook his head, hoping to clear his thoughts. He reread the note, stumbling over the clumsy phrasing, trying to piece it together with the girl he knew in his mind. We’re not right for each other. Teach knew she didn’t believe that.

  You deserve a queen, Edward. Go and find her.

  Something wasn’t right. She’d never called him Edward. Why would she suddenly— His breath hitched in his throat. The clever, beautiful girl. She loved him. She was his queen, and she wanted him to find her.

  Her goal had always been to search for her family. And she’d always planned to leave England by ship. On the Deliverance. That meant he had to get to the docks. John would help him.

  Aware that his father watched him, Teach forced the muscles in his shoulders to relax, resisting the temptation to race from the room. He would have to be careful. Drummond must never suspect that Teach intended to go after her.

  “She was not for you. In time you will see that.”

  “Just like Miss Patience,” Teach said in a low voice.

  “Yes, just like Miss Patience.”

  Except Anne was nothing like Miss Patience. Knowing that she was out there somewhere, alone, filled him with ice-cold fear.

  And knowing that his father had done this filled him with a burning hate.

  After an uncomfortable silence, Drummond cleared his throat. “As difficult as it may be, I need you to do something, Edward. Something very important.”

  “What?” Teach asked tersely.

  “I need you to go to London for me.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow morning. I’ll need you to stay there for at least a week, if not more.”

  Teach turned and faced him. “If I do that, I’ll miss the launch.”

  Drummond hesitated. “I know that. And while it is an important event, I would like you to visit with my solicitor in London.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ve always shown an active interest in my business dealings. I was wrong not to let you pursue your dreams.”

  “My dream was to be captain of the Deliverance.”

  “That’s impossible. But perhaps, in time, you might take command of a different ship.”

  By offering Teach this olive branch, his father clearly hoped to take his mind off Anne. But once again his father’s plan backfired.

  Teach knew exactly when and how Anne was leaving the country. “I can’t give you my answer now. I’d like to be alone.”

  “You mustn’t wait long. My solicitor in London is expecting you.”

  “Of course,” Teach said, and strode to the door.

  “Will you be joining me for supper this evening?” Was it Teach’s imagination, or did his father sound uncertain?

  Teach paused with his hand on the door handle. “Not tonight. I have a lot to think about. Please have my meal sent up to my room instead.”

  “I’m your father. I would still like you to join me.”

  Teach met Drummond’s eyes. “And I would like you to leave me bloody well alone.”

  CHAPTER 34

  Anne

  Anne lay on her back, surveying the small room where she had been brought. The gloomy sky outside did little to brighten the space. Despite what Drummond had told her, she knew for certain this was not an inn. She’d heard of the White Stag, and this place was most certainly not it.

  The coarse mattress beneath her smelled of dried sweat and urine, and Anne tried not to think about what had caused the ring of stains marring the surface. The room itself was chilly and drafty, with several boards broken and missing from the walls, allowing a stiff breeze to blow through the cramped space. Anne shivered, her dress still damp from the rain. She pulled at the ropes that secured her cold hands and feet, hissing as a sharp pain pierced her side. The two men had trussed her up like a turkey after she’d tried to escape. She’d waited for the carriage to slow down before she’d jumped from the interior. If it hadn’t been for her skirts, she could have outrun them.

  As it was, they’d knocked her to the ground, and Anne was sure she’d cracked a rib when she’d landed.

  There had to be some way out of this mess. She hoped the hints in the note she’d left for Teach would be enough for him to come after her.

  If only Anne had returned the stolen items sooner, none of this would have happened. Margery wouldn’t have become suspicious and followed her out to the trees. Drummond would never have evicted her, and Anne would be with Teach.

  But for how long? Drummond had said that he still intended for Teach to marry someone with a title. And he’d made his prejudice against Anne all too clear.

  It was late in the evening, and she had been gone for hours. Teach would have noticed her absence by now. She should have accompanied him to the city. Would Drummond have confronted her in front of Teach when they’d returned? Or would he have waited?

  She squeezed her eyes shut against the prickle of tears. It was no use getting upset over what might have been. Right now she needed to concentrate and wait for an opportune moment to get away.

  The door opened, and Martha entered, her silhouette illuminated by the candle in the hallway. Drummond had told Anne he’d hired a lady’s maid for her, and Anne had been surprised that he’d gone to the trouble of securing her a companion.

  When Anne had first seen the aging woman, she’d thought it was Margery, the resemblance was so striking.

  Martha had clearly been an efficient lady’s maid in her youth. But with her hunched shoulders and poor vision, Anne wondered why she had accepted Drummond’s request. No doubt he had decided to employ her because she was old and frail and he wouldn’t be required to pay her very much.

  “I have some broth for you to eat,” Martha said, her cloudy gray eyes searching the gloomy interior.

  Anne shrugged, forgetting momentarily that Martha’s eyesight prevented her from seeing very clearly. “I’m not hungry.”

  Martha’s hands shook slightly as she carried the broth. �
��It won’t do you any good to starve yourself. You’ll need all your strength when we take you to the ship shortly.”

  Anne held out her hands. “I can’t eat tied like this.”

  “You can sip it at least. It’s your fault, you know. If you’d just come quiet like, instead of jumping out o’ the carriage, my Bartholomew wouldn’t have had to use the ropes. He didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Then why didn’t your Bartholomew take me to the White Stag like Mr. Drummond told him to?” Anne asked.

  “Stop your fussing.”

  “What do you think Mr. Drummond will say when he finds out you didn’t do as he said?”

  An ugly smile crossed Martha’s lips. “He won’t never find out, now, will he? He won’t know we kept the money he gave us for the White Stag. If I was you, I’d mind my words. I’d hate for such a pretty thing to meet with an accident. These parts of the docks are dangerous. Girls like you go missing all the time.”

  Part of Anne longed to fly into a rage, but she knew it would not help her cause any. It would be much better to retain her wits and try to think of a way out of the situation.

  “It was very kind of Master Drummond to secure your passage,” Martha continued. “He’s a generous man, not turning you over to the constable. Any other master woulda done just that, and you’d be swinging from the gallows. My sister, Margery, warned me about you. She said you’re a crooked one.”

  That was how Martha had come to be Anne’s lady’s maid.

  “It was Margery’s idea not to take you to the White Stag. Says you didn’t deserve it, not after what you done.”

  Not even Margery was above stealing from Drummond.

  Martha continued to speak, rambling on about merchant ships and how none of them could compare to the grandness of the Deliverance and how a large crowd would no doubt come to watch it set sail.

  Lying back against the small pillow, Anne tuned Martha out, closing her eyes against the physical discomfort. Anne had tried to loosen the ropes that bound her but had been unsuccessful. Her side still throbbed from where she’d fallen, as did her hands and knees.