Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)

Too weak to move, he called out, “Anne? Anne!” It was no

use. Groaning, he pulled the blankets up to his chin, willing

the two girls to go away. Well, he hoped one of the girls would go away.





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He wouldn’t mind if Anne came to read to him again.

When she’d helped him out in the garden, he’d been rather

surprised. Up until then their interactions had been anything

but civil, yet she’d assisted him when he’d needed it most.

Even if he hadn’t vomited on Patience, he wasn’t convinced

she would have come to his aid.

It was not the first time he’d been sick like this. The fever

had a nasty habit of striking whenever Teach switched climates.

Although it wouldn’t last long, fever and chills would rack

his body.

Rest was the only cure.

Outside his room the voices stopped. He heard footsteps

marching down the hall.

Silence.

Teach tried to ignore the twinge of disappointment he felt.

Anne should be coming within the hour with his food. He was

looking forward to seeing her more than he cared to admit.

He was engaged, he reminded himself.

To Patience.

He had known Patience for several years now, and he was

quite comfortable with her. She was like a well-worn shoe.

Teach cringed, imagining Patience’s reaction to that description.

Anne was different. She intrigued him, for not only was

she familiar with John Milton, but she claimed to know how to

ride a horse. Patience had already proven she’d never heard of





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the poet, and the closest she ever got to a horse was when she stepped in and out of a carriage.

What could be the harm in getting to know Anne a little

better? An acquaintance with her could prove useful if he hoped

to help his father catch the thief in the house.

Closing his eyes, he began to doze off again, his thoughts

turning once more to the sea and the mysterious maid under

his father’s roof.

There was a knock at the door.

“Yes?” he said, his heartbeat accelerating.

The door opened a moment later. Rolling over, Teach saw

Mary coming toward him, a bowl of steaming broth on a tray.

He frowned. “Where’s Anne?”

Mary gave him a strained smile. “She’s cleaning out the fireplaces in the guest rooms, sir,” she said. “I brought you a little something for your sickness.”

“Why can’t you clean out the fireplaces?”

Mary’s smile faltered. “I just thought that since Anne brought

you breakfast, I’d give her a hand and bring you your dinner.”

“You thought wrong. I made my instructions clear. Anne is

the only one to bring me my food,” Teach continued. His justi—

fication for the demand was that she had already been exposed

to him. He didn’t want to risk anyone else getting sick.

“But don’t you want—”

“I want you to leave. From now on Anne is the only one to

wait on me. You may go.”





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Mary still hesitated, clearly unwilling to give up so easily. She moistened her lips and glanced back at the door. He watched her through narrowed eyes.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you?” she

asked, her voice full of innuendo, as she placed the tray on his bedside table.

Teach’s head pounded. “Absolutely sure. Now I suggest you

leave. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to tell your beau, John, about

your cheating ways.”

Mary blinked in surprise at the rebuff. “I don’t know what

you’re talking about,” she said, holding her hand up to her generous bosom.

Teach took a deep breath, wishing, not for the first time,

that he were still at sea. “Yes, you do. When William and I

came back the day before yesterday from our morning ride,

you and the groom were . . . how shall I say it? Otherwise

engaged. If I catch you doing that again, I will have no choice

but to let my friend John know exactly what kind of girl he

plans to marry.”

“I . . . Tom, he . . . he helped me . . . because I fell . . .”

Teach watched, unimpressed, as Mary tried to defend herself. She was clearly not quick-witted. “It appears you both fell,”

he said.

Scowling, Mary stomped toward the door, muttering something beneath her breath about seeking a different position elsewhere.





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“Tell Anne to come here,” he commanded before she closed the door with a loud bang.

Teach sighed, hoping Mary would make good on her threat

and leave. He wouldn’t be surprised if she turned out to be the

crook. The less he knew about her exploits, the better. When

he’d met John last year on the merchant ship, they had become

close friends. John had mentioned that his girl was seeking a

situation within a respectable household.

Unfortunately, there was nothing respectable about Mary,

and Teach now regretted having asked his father to give her a

job. Even if he hadn’t been engaged to Patience, Teach would

never have considered Mary as a prospect. She was too eager.

Teach liked a challenge.

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