Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)

Anne blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

Teach closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I

caught Mary kissing Tom when I returned from my early morning ride the other day.”

“Again?” Anne asked, before clamping her hands over her

mouth.

Teach snorted. “So this isn’t the first time it’s happened.

Well, William hardly acted the jealous lover, even if the note

was meant for her.” In fact, William had appeared quite amused,

and Teach had been forced to drag him away.

Anne’s face burned with her embarrassment.

Teach did not bother to mask his impatience. “If it wasn’t





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Mary, then I have no idea who the intended recipient was. Perhaps he meant for you to find it.”

Anne grimaced.

Ever observant, Teach frowned. “You do not like William?”

Anne shot him a look, as if cursing his watchful eyes. “It’s

not my place to either like or dislike your frie—”

“Oh, stop this nonsense,” he said. “If I ask you a simple question, I expect an honest answer. Do you or do you not like the

Earl of Lorimar?” he asked. He wasn’t always this ill-tempered.

There was something about this girl that touched on his nerves.

She was unlike anyone else he’d ever met.

“I fail to understand how my opinion matters, sir.”

“Well, for some reason it matters to me. Answer the question. Please.”

She studied the floor, as if she wished for the flowers in the

carpet to swallow her whole. “My father always told me, the

enemy is dangerous who wears the mask of a friend.”

“Are you saying William wears a mask? That he is not my

true friend?”

“I would not seek out his companionship, sir,” she said at

length.

Teach was quiet. He was pleased by her confession, although

he did not know why. William was one of his closest friends,

was he not? As far as he knew, there’d never been any com—

petition between the two of them. At school Teach had often





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laughed at William’s antics, for William provided a nice foil for Teach’s more serious nature.

William always joked and said Teach had what William

wanted most: good looks, a sharp intellect, and the ability to

command respect.

Teach argued back and said that William had what Drummond wanted most: a lofty title, a larger estate, and a life without labor.

Anne broke the silence. “You do not look well, sir.”

His lips twitched. “I did not ask how I looked.”

“I meant no offense, sir. I simply said it out of concern for

your health.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re concerned about me,

are you?”

“Naturally. As the master of the house—”

“Ah, but you said yourself I’m not the master.”

Anne made a small movement. Teach could imagine her

stomping her small foot in frustration.

“Now you’re twisting my words,” she muttered.

He relaxed against the pillows, a chuckle escaping him. He

was actually enjoying himself. “What else would you tell me,

Anne? What else about my appearance bothers you? Are my

eyes too close? Is my mouth too large?”

“At the moment, yes,” she said.

His laughter dissolved into a coughing fit, and his face

flamed.





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Anne stepped around the foot of the bed, to be of some assistance, but he waved her away. When he stopped, he leaned back, wheezing. Anne remained resolutely near his side. “I’m

sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, no. You were quite right. I said I wished you to be

honest. I should never demand honesty if I’m not prepared to

hear it.”

The fact that he had admitted defeat was telling. If he hadn’t

been so sick, Teach would not have given in so quickly.

Picking up the book from the table, Anne motioned to his

soup. “If you like, I will continue to read for you. But only if you promise to eat,” she said.

Teach bowed his head, much like he had when he’d been

little and his mother had told him to finish his meal. “Very well.

I will eat my soup. But only if you promise to always tell me

what you’re thinking.”

“Agreed,” Anne said.

Teach smiled, pleased with himself.

Anne sat down in the armchair beside his bed and opened

the book once more.





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C H A P T E R 1 0

Anne

For the next five days Anne divided her time between the

kitchen and Teach’s room. Whenever she passed the housekeeper, Margery’s mouth turned down and she sniffed her displeasure. Sara and Mary were beside themselves, wondering

why Anne was able to get out of so many chores while the two

of them had to compensate for her alleged inactivity.

Anne would have disagreed. If anything, the three of them

left her more than her fair share of work. She went to bed even

later than usual to make up for the amount of time spent reading to the young master, and was up before dawn to head to the

market and start the proceedings all over again.

While she was tired and overworked, Anne hadn’t been this

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