from him, should he try anything inappropriate.
Anne met Teach as he led his black stallion out of its stall,
Margery’s three-legged cat following behind. What Anne
assumed to be her horse was already tethered to the post.
Teach looked up as she approached. For a moment he froze,
his mouth half-open as if he’d been about to say something.
In an attempt to hide her nervousness, she held out the hat
to him. “Here,” she said.
He cleared his throat and busied himself with the bridle,
but not before she saw a spark of something in his eyes. “You’ll need the hat.”
“I cannot wear it.”
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He stopped what he was doing. “Why not? You can’t ride in your cap. If somebody sees you, they’ll wonder what a maid is doing out riding with her master.”
Irritation flashed through her at his words, even though
she knew he spoke the truth. “Whether I wear the hat or not, I
will still be just a maid. Changing my appearance will not alter that fact.”
“I don’t understand your reluctance. The outfit becomes
you. Simply put on the hat so we can ride.”
She ignored the surge of pleasure at his compliment, knowing he said it only to achieve his end. “It won’t work.”
He ran his fingers through his black hair. “By Jupiter, you
could drive a man to drink. Why? Why do you take every
opportunity to argue with me? If I were to say that the heavens
are blue, I daresay you’d contend that they were green. Do you
take pleasure in provoking me?”
Admittedly, there was a small part of her that did just that.
If she hadn’t worked in his father’s household, she would not
have had to curb her tongue as much as she did. It was a constant struggle to control her feelings, thoughts, and actions. If she said what she was truly thinking, she would no doubt be whipped to within an inch of her life. “You asked me to speak
honestly with you. I am simply telling you the truth. I cannot
wear it, because it won’t fit.”
He looked about to explode from his irritation. “Why, in
the bloody name of all that’s holy—”
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Before he could finish his outburst, she removed her cap.
Her thick black hair fell around her shoulders, and she placed
the hat on top of her head. It balanced there for a moment,
before toppling to the ground. Picking it up once more, Anne
tried again, this time jamming it down over her forehead. It was no use. The hat was too small, and she had too much hair.
“Now do you understand why I said I cannot wear it? It
wasn’t out of vanity or pride. I have no quarrel with you. It is simply not possible.” After placing the hat on a hook near the barn door, she moved to gather her hair and restore the cap, but Teach stopped her.
“No, don’t,” he said, his voice gruff. “Let it hang loose.”
She paused, noting the glint in his eyes.
He took the cap from her hands and then held out her
horse’s bridle instead. Not waiting for a response, he led his own stallion from the barn into the courtyard.
Drawing in a deep breath, she followed him. With the reins
clenched in one hand, she walked toward the mounting block.
The heavy skirts hampered her first attempt to mount, for she
was out of practice.
“Allow me,” Teach murmured, stepping up behind her.
“Where is the groom?” Anne asked, looking around.
Teach hoisted her into the sidesaddle. “I gave him the day
off as well.”
Of course he had. Anne had never met anyone like Teach.
He was arrogant and driven, as was his father, but at the same
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time Teach was not above gestures of kindness or consideration, traits he had no doubt inherited from his mother.
Anne could still feel the imprints of his fingers long after
he withdrew his hands. Her heart hammered in her chest, and
she patted the horse’s neck, pretending to calm her down as she stepped sideways. “What’s her name?” Anne asked, waiting for Teach to mount.
Shooting her a mischievous grin, he said, “Queen Anne.”
“You mock me,” she said.
He raised his hands. “What? No, I tell the truth. My father
bought her shortly before I returned.”
“Your father doesn’t believe in naming animals.” Upon her
arrival in the household, she had asked the others the names of
the different horses in the stables. No one had answered, for no one had known.
“Precisely, which is why I have decided to name her Queen Anne.”
“And your stallion’s name? Is it something equally ridicu—
lous? King Edward, perhaps?”
Teach’s grin deepened. “Don’t be silly. It’s Kaiser. Now, are
you ready?”
Kaiser, the German word for “emperor.” “Yes, Your Excellency.”
“Good. Then follow me,” he called out, slapping his reins.
The stallion leapt ahead, and they took off. “If you can!”
Smiling, Anne did as he’d commanded, catching up to him
as he neared her favorite trees outside the property. That was
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