Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)

thick and dry from the ale the previous night, and his efforts to erase Anne’s image from his head had been futile.

He’d visited two different taverns on his way home, trying to figure out how he could talk his father into letting him

command the Deliverance before he married Patience. But the more he drank, the less control he had, and it hadn’t taken long before a pair of blue eyes had occupied his mind completely.

The pounding continued. Margery had gone into town.

He’d sent her away to check several shops in search of his father’s missing silverware. Although Drummond had told Teach not to say anything, Teach seriously doubted the elderly housekeeper

was the thief. If anyone was stealing from the household, they 13 2

would have to get rid of the evidence somehow and the shops were a good place to start.

What he’d really like to have done was dismiss Margery for

hitting Anne. But any serious action would have to wait until

his father returned.

There was no sign of anyone in the hallway, but he heard

footsteps approaching in the entryway below. He had just

turned the corner at the top of the landing, when he saw the

color drain from Anne’s face as she opened the front door.

In the light of day, it was clear the night had not been kind

to Henry Barrett. His thick, pale skin resembled a loaf of bread before it was properly baked.

“They’ve got you answering the door now, have they?”

Henry sneered.

Blocking his entrance, Anne scowled at him. “Maids are

required to do a variety of jobs. I’m certain you remember my status in this house.”

“You better watch yourself. I could make your life very

uncomfortable if you’re not careful.”

Teach moved silently toward the stairs, his hands clenched

at his sides, his vision momentarily clouded by rage at Henry’s

threat. It was clear he and Anne knew each other from somewhere. Had Anne worked in Henry’s household before? No

wonder she was so sharp-tongued.

“What do you want?” she asked, not bothering with any

pretense of civility.





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“I want to see that dirty bounder, Edward.”

“He isn’t here. I will let him know you called.”

Henry shook his head and pushed his way past her into

the large hall. He looked up at the rich tapestries and paintings adorning the walls, no doubt trying to determine their worth.

“I saw him last night. I’d recognize him anywhere.”

“And I you,” Teach said with deadly calm, reaching the bottom step.

Henry and Anne both turned at his approach. Teach’s mood

didn’t improve when he saw the slight coloration near Anne’s

eye. Margery would definitely answer for that.

“Should I get you some refreshment, sir?” she asked Teach.

“No, that won’t be necessary. This won’t take long,” Teach

said, barely managing to control his fury.

Taking her cue, Anne walked in the direction of the kitchen.

“What do you want?” Teach asked, turning to Henry.

“What you took.”

Teach raised his eyebrows. “And what would that be?”

“My money. I know it was you near the tavern last night. You

might have fooled the others, but not me.”

“Really?” Teach drawled. “What if I told you I’ve been sick

these past few days and haven’t been out of the house? What

would you say then?”

“I’d call you a liar! That was you, and I’m here to collect

what’s mine.”

“Be careful what you say, Henry. I’m a fairly good shot, and





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I won’t have my integrity questioned by someone like you.”

“And I won’t be robbed by the likes of you. If you don’t

return my money, I’ll report you to the constable—”

“And tell them what? I stole the money you stole from those

men? Somehow, I doubt the constable would be very sympathetic.”

“You have no proof.”

“Oh, but I do. I returned the coins to their rightful owners.

The men you cheated were quite interested to know about your

deck of cards. You might want to avoid the docks for a time. I

believe some of your friends might be looking for you.”

While Henry sputtered to find the right words, Teach strode

toward the door and pulled it open. If Henry didn’t leave, Teach could not guarantee his safety. “Good-bye, Henry.”

Henry sniffed, puffing out his chest like a peacock. He

crossed the floor with less assured steps, and then paused on the step outside the door. “I want my money. I’ll make you pay—”

The only response was the slamming of the door and Teach’s

colorful expletive. It was a good thing he didn’t have his cutlass with him. He wouldn’t have hesitated in cutting the oaf down.

Teach strode toward the back of the house to find Anne.

For some reason, seeing Henry Barrett had clearly unnerved

her, and he meant to get to the bottom of it. He found her

leaning against the wall around the corner from the entryway,

her eyes closed. She’d listened to the entire conversation.

“Anne. Are you all right?”





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She took a steadying breath. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine, sir. Just tired, that’s all.”

“Liar,” he said, searching her expression. “He upset you,

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