“Do not be. He kicks terribly in his sleep.”
They shared a laugh, and Anne felt as natural and free as ever. They ate in silence for a few moments before she worked up the courage to speak. “Would you mind terribly if I walked the plantation, talked with the slaves? I’ve a mind to learn more about this rice business.”
The whites of his eyes showed briefly, surprised she supposed. “Of course, the plantation is at your disposal. I’d be glad to know you’re taking an interest.”
“I become bored easily, too, so this will help me occupy myself. You know, since I have no lady’s skills to do so.”
Lips pursed together, he frowned, which made her laugh. He leaned over, the pupils of his eyes becoming slightly larger, and came closer to her, cutting off her chuckle. “I could find ways to occupy you, madam.”
A pulse thumped in her ears, her knees suddenly weak and her mouth dry. She licked her lips, anticipating a kiss. But, he sat back in his chair and gave her a wry smile.
“I would like you to bring Holt to the warehouse this morning. I promised to show him my ships.”
Swallowing hard, she nodded, “He would love to see your ship. I had planned to take him into town, anyway, to introduce him to Elizabeth Browning.”
He threw his napkin upon the table. “Wonderful.” He turned to her, leaned, and pulled her forward before she could react, his lips brushing hers. She melted into him instantly, but he pulled back just as quickly. “I will expect you soon, then.”
It was just as well. Had he continued on, who knew where in the room they’d end up? Perhaps on the table . . .
A flurry of heat flowed through her limbs, but she was able to answer. “Yes, I shall prepare our things, and request Raphael to accompany us.”
He stood and strode through the doorway without a backward glance or any indication he was in any way as affected as she. Relishing the day ahead, she ate her breakfast with a hunger not related to food.
An hour later, she, Raphael, Artie, and Holt made their way along the river. Holt fidgeted with enthusiasm upon the wooden bench beside her, giggling, both of his sinful dimples deep pits in his ivory cheeks. He pointed to one of the area’s many large, black birds sunning itself on a stump protruding from the opposite bank. Anne had the urge to join him, but refrained, merely laughing with encouragement. He positively wore her out, if that were possible, constantly moving, his mind roving from one stimulant to another.
Grinning to herself, Anne knew her restless, adventurous nature had found its way into her son’s tiny body.
They stood on Elizabeth’s front entry after the spirited trip a few hours later. Hobbs, the balding, high-browed butler informed them that the lady of the house was not at home, but would be alerted to their unplanned arrival when she returned. The tilt of his head and the manner with which he looked down his nose at her said he failed to appreciate Anne’s impromptu visits.
Nodding her thanks, Anne grabbed up her son, and packed him back into the carriage Addison had awaiting them on their arrival at the docks. She wondered if Addison were able to accommodate their visit this late in the morning. Surely his business was well under way. Shrugging, she instructed Raphael to turn in the direction of Addison’s warehouse on the more posh end of Bay Street.
The docks and bridges were busy with merchants and sailors, shippers, and working men hauling crates with wagons. Horses stamped, men whistled and spoke loudly over all the regular commotion of a busy port. It was a sound she had been familiar with over a year ago, noises that most ladies would scurry away from. A few sailor’s curses made Anne smile. She’d missed the commotion.
Pulling Holt up onto her hip and wrapping her arms about his waste, she moved in the direction of a two-story, brick structure with a sign hanging above the door. Gold letters outlined in black announced the business, Blackhurst Shipping & Co.
Anne made certain her braid remained in place over her right shoulder, and smoothed her cream-colored cotton day gown adorned with rosettes. It was shaping up to be a scorching day, so she’d picked the lightest colored, simple gown she could find in Lenore’s vast wardrobe.
“Pretty.” Holt ran his fingers over her cheek.
She gave him a quick kiss to his fingers as they entered the building. The bell chimed, and Anne entered the brightly lit office, the sun shining in the two windows facing the front of the building.
Addison sat, bent over a large, intimidating-looking ledger, his dark, auburn hair falling over his brow. “I’ll be with you in a moment. Please, have a seat.”
Smiling at the picture he presented—intense, yet devil-may-care—she would have remained quiet, but Holt ruined it.
“Ad!” His bones seemed to melt as he squirmed out of her arms and scuttled to the floor.
Their eyes met for a brief moment, long enough to get her heart thumping, before he only had eyes for her son.
“I didn’t want to disturb you so early.” Serene, even to her own ears, she sounded indulgent. As if she actually cared about disturbing him.
He grinned down as Holt stopped by his side, giving her son a quick manly handshake. “It’s perfectly acceptable. I have been preparing for your arrival. Just finishing up a few line items.” Ruffling Holt’s hair before he stood, he asked him in an altogether too-excited voice, “Well, son, how about we go for a walk and take a look at one of my ships?”
“Yes! Yes! Let’s go.” He reached up and slipped his small hand into Addison’s much larger one, baby-white skin disappearing in a manly, tanned hand.
“Excellent.” Silver eyes captured hers and she shivered, remembering the feel of those hands on her skin. He stopped beside her, extending his elbow to her.
Terrified of fueling any further fire within her already passion-weakened, betrayer of a body, she shook her head, giving him a half-smile. “No, you lead the way. I’m right behind you.”
He shrugged, “As you wish. Let’s go, lad. Your mother asks us to lead.”
“Tally-ho.” Holt squeaked. Addison chuckled, his shoulders shaking with the force.
Following his tall, broad-shouldered frame out into the sunlit street, Anne’s heart thudded with something akin to completeness. Addison’s head hung down close to the top of her son’s dark head, his own dark hair haphazard and obscuring his eyes from her view.
He spoke in a deep, excited manner, giving Holt his undivided attention. Even with the crowd surrounding them on their stroll into the street, she could hear the deep timbre of his voice. It was if she were attuned to the very presence of his energy.
Addison stopped, allowing Anne to catch up to them where they stood near one of the docks in Charles Town Harbor. She assumed one of the two large merchantmen anchored there was his ship.
Bowing slightly, and with a flourish of his hand to the ship on their right, Addison ushered her to walk ahead of them, and onto a vessel named The Emerald Lady.
“After you, my lady.”
He had the audacity to grin when she made no bones of hiding her sharp intake of breath.
“I told you—,”
“And, after you, my lord.” He cut her off, addressing her son, who brightened upon hearing the title bestowed upon him.
Cursing beneath her breath, she grabbed up the pleats of her skirt with one hand, and her son’s hand in the other. They climbed the gangplank, all the while she glanced with a nervous eye to make sure her son didn’t have an urge to jump into the dark blue water beneath.
The deck of the ship sparkled with a clean shine, and sailors worked vigorously preparing to set sail. Anne appreciated with a practiced eye the neatness and craftsmanship of the vessel.
Holt took that moment to run at full speed around the deck, dodging sailors as needed. He squealed and laughed with each pass.
A shiver racing up her spine alerted her to Addison’s pr
esence behind her.
“The Emerald Lady? Fascinating name for a ship.”
He stopped beside her, a smile in his voice as her son and various sailors skittered out of his way. “Aye, named for my grandmother, the very wild and very Scottish, Fiona Douglas. You and she would have gotten along famously, you know. She had sparkling emerald eyes and fiery red hair, as well.”
“I should say she sounds quite lovely, really.”
“Very lovely.”
She glanced sideways at the seductive tone of his voice and found those piercing silver orbs intent on her, then turned away, her gaze catching Holt trying to climb the rigging. Attention to her son erected an invisible barrier in which to deflect the sensual current radiating from Addison like molten lava. She cleared her throat. “Um . . . does she still live?”
“No, she passed on during my university years.” He reached sideways and grasped her wrist, deftly flipping it over and bringing it to his heated lips. “I do believe you remind me of her. Perhaps I’ll have you pose for a figurehead for her, my Emerald Lady.”
Her stomach flip-flopped and a flutter beat against her ribcage. Allowing the sensation and warmth to spread throughout her body was an unusual response for her, but that’s exactly what she did. Allowed it, reveled in it.
“Mum! Ad! Lookeeeee.” Holt’s voice sailed on the wind to them as he hung three feet in the air, tangled in the rigging.
Addison released her hand, and yet she still felt the warmth where his lips had pressed.
“Hold on there, lad.” Addison strode over to him.
Smiling, Anne moved forward.
After untangling his arms and legs, Addison led them on a tour of his merchant ship: down into the hold, the captain’s quarters, the galley, and even the crew’s sleeping area. Anne found herself impressed by his knowledge and the pride with which he spoke of his prized ship.
Later, as they disembarked The Emerald Lady, Anne paused to peruse the wares of a man selling lace doilies and beautifully arranged handkerchiefs. Addison carried Holt, worn-out and nearly asleep, into their waiting carriage.
Determined to purchase something in the way of appreciation for Elizabeth Browning, she promised the man she’d return on the morrow with some coin to purchase.
“Aye, lady, I’ll be back here tomorrow. It’d be a pleasure to do business with you.” Besides the fact his blue eyes were dark, his face pockmarked, and his voice earnest, he seemed genuinely pleased by her possible business.
“Wonderful. I shall return tomorrow. Perhaps I will purchase a few more items, as well.”
“Anne Bonny!” A man’s voice screamed from behind her. She heard it above the general voices and commotion of a busy street. She turned, eyeing the many faces and backs behind her to see from whom spouted her name. No one met her gaze, and surely no one she recognized stood before her or further out upon the street. Her stomach plummeted as she realized, too late, she’d just given herself away for anyone paying any attention. She prayed the loudness around her disguised her lack of better judgment.
“Looking for me?” Addison’s voice penetrated her intent perusal of their surroundings. She forced a quick smile, despite a sinking feeling, hoping he hadn’t heard the name to which she’d so foolishly responded.
Chapter 19
The terror of being recognized thudded around in the pit of her stomach. She desperately wanted to attribute the tightness in her chest and the tremor in her hands to the delicious intent in Addison’s eyes as he’d given her a quick kiss before helping her into the carriage. As they’d departed, she knew it was not the case.
Had Addison heard the man call her by name?
He hadn’t seem phased by it, but she would need to keep her distance from Charles Towne for the next few weeks, just to make certain she’d not be recognized again.
She took several calming breaths to fortify her for the evening’s planned activities. She mustn’t dwell on it for now. As long as she remained at Cranford Hall, all would be well. Besides, it would not do well for the people of Cranford Hall to see her despair whilst she assisted Eliza in giving the slaves a lesson in speech and reading.
Resolving to keep a low profile, Anne freshened up in her washbasin before meeting Eliza in the entryway.
The older woman greeted her with a smile, fondness softening her features. “This is very thoughtful of you, milady.”
She hooked her arm through Eliza’s, and started them forward, blushing at the praise she heard in Eliza’s voice. “Nonsense, Eliza. I agree with Lord Blackhurst on this subject. Every man, woman, and child should be able to communicate, especially at having been thrown onto a boat bound for the Americas without a say in the matter.”
Eliza grabbed a lantern from the stand near the back entry on their way through the door. “It’ll be dark by the time we’re done.”
The sky was beginning to darken already, the sun’s bright orb glowed on the horizon, pink and yellow streaks illuminated the clouds. “The sunsets are so beautiful here by the river.”
They trudged along, back past the stable, and headed for one of the larger barns. Eliza’s brown eyes were even lighter in the fading sun’s glow as she gave Anne a sideways glance. “Aye, looks the color of that wondrous hair of yours.”
“Wondrous, you say?” Anne pat the tendrils that were already curling from the humidity and breaking loose from her braid. “How odd. I’ve never heard such a marvelous word used in relation to my hair. A nest, unruly, wild, and flaming. Those are the words I usually hear.”
“Some folks just don’t see the beauty in anything wild.” Eliza chuckled, “You are a gem, Anne Morgan, do not doubt that.”
“I wish you could convince . . . well, everyone.”
They laughed as they neared the large barn. Anne could see at least ten colored men and women filing into the open gate. Children ran, no flew, through the door in their eagerness to find a seat.
“On with you!” Eliza giggled, gently scolding them.
Anne stepped into the barn and stopped in surprise. “Goodness, Eliza. It truly is a school room.”
The entire barn had been set up with long benches neatly organized and lined in rows, as if they were church pews. There were seven rows of benches, and a makeshift podium near the front. A table sat off to the left side containing parchment, ink, and inkwells.
“Aye, Lord Blackhurst has spared no expense. He’s even encouraged me to offer a selection of books from his library.”
Upon spying the future mistress of Cranford Hall entering their domain, the once-vibrant discussion and treble of voices ceased. Anne realized they had no knowledge of her character, and stared in her direction with worried—some curious—expressions. There were around thirty slaves in all, waiting on pins and needles to hear what she would say. She spied Delcie and the serving girl, Boda, near the back of the temporary schoolroom.
Years of pirating, and dealing with vicious, insolent, and rude individuals had been easy compared to the look of hope she saw on some of their faces. Swords, daggers, flintlocks . . . all items she could deal with readily and with ease. The deep compassion and admiration for the people standing before her, in a barn far away from their homeland, nearly brought on tears.
Instead, she straightened her spine, eyed them with the courage she’d been famed for, and hoped her admiration shined through her genuine smile.
“Good evening, ladies, gentlemen . . . children. I wanted to introduce myself, and Eliza has graciously agreed to allow me to join you tonight.”
There were several shuffling feet, and a few people sat on the benches. She gave Eliza a wide smile and turned back to her captive audience. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you all. I am Anne Morgan, and I’d like to watch, and maybe help, your reading and writing session tonight.” More individuals sat on the benches, the childre
n all running up front to sit on the straw upon the floor.
“Mrs. Morgan is going to be our new lady here, so make certain you all give her the courtesy and respect she deserves. I know you all are anxious to start.”
Anne made eye contact with several students. “Please, just treat me as you would your own. And . . . I’d be honored if you call me Anne, and not ‘my lady’.”
A sideways glance at Eliza showed her rolling her eyes heavenward, before shooing a few children from her path, and instructing everyone to take their seat.
There were a few gasps of surprise as Anne moved two benches in, and asked to sit in an empty space between a dark-skinned man, and a light-skinned girl of about her own age. Anne was startled to see the girl’s blue eyes. Covering her shock at such exotic eyes, she put her hand out to the girl. “A pleasure to meet you. What may I call you?”
The girl swallowed, giving a shy smile. “Josie, ma’am.” She had no accent that Anne could determine, so the blue eyes had come from mixed parentage. Anne grinned, “Hello, Josie. And, it’s Anne, remember. I’m just here the same as you are.”
The girl nodded, and Anne turned to the gentleman on her other side, introducing herself again, and finding his name to be, Beedee, and his accent to be thick. He did smile a gap-toothed grin, however. Anne introduced herself to three others, and finding names by the time Eliza had cleared her throat to begin.
Anne shrugged, giving the older lady her cheekiest grin. “Carry on, Mrs. Teach.”
Eliza’s lips twitched, only a tad, but Anne spied it.
As the night wore on, Eliza proved to be an excellent tutor, asking each person in the room to recite the carefully constructed sentence she’d used for her opening teaching session. Varying degrees of accents and halting speech came from the people gathered in the building. Anne joined in the instruction, assisting here and there as needed, feeling a sense of joy during the process. When the night had neared its end, she found several of them played instruments. It didn’t take much coaxing to convince them to play some lively tunes. Dancing broke out among them all, and she even partnered Mr. Knox in a spirited jaunt around the barn. The dance they shared hadn’t resembled anything like the English dances she’d been instructed in at an early age. They simply jogged around the empty part of the barn, grinning and laughing.
My Bonny Heart (Pirate's Progeny Book 1) Page 17