the farthest she’d ventured in this direction since arriving in the household. Today would be different.
As the house faded in the distance, Anne leaned forward,
her breath catching in her throat. It was as if she were flying.
With the wind rushing through her hair, her skirts trailing
beneath her, Anne was free once more.
Teach reined his horse and rode beside her, the look on his
face matching hers. He could have outpaced her, for he rode
astride, but he adjusted his speed to hers.
Both of them knew the impropriety of their actions. If
anyone were to find out they’d left together, the consequences
would be dire.
But for the moment neither of them thought about the cost.
For several minutes the only sound that could be heard was
the horses’ hooves as they ate up the ground beneath them,
churning small clumps of earth.
On and on they rode, through fertile fields, toward the surrounding woodlands. Every once in a while they passed a farm—
hand, laboring in the crops, but the riders were too far away and too fast for the laborers to give them more than a passing glance.
It was sometime later when Teach reined in his horse, slow—
ing down to a walk. It had been quite a while since they’d last
seen or heard a passerby. The city of Bristol was well behind
them in the distance. Anne pulled in beside him, aware of the
flush in her cheeks and the tangle of her hair.
“That was . . . amazing,” Anne said, unable to contain her
151
joy. It reminded her of spending time with her father, before he’d become ill.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. While I was gone, I was almost
afraid I’d forget how to ride.”
Leaning forward, Anne patted her horse. “You can never
forget something like this.”
“You said your father taught you?”
“Yes, when he had access to horses,” she said, hoping to
steer clear of any personal conversations. She could have told
him her relation to Henry, but she would soon leave Bristol in
search of her mother’s family, and the less people knew of her
past, the better. “Who taught you?”
“My mother. She loved animals. When she was alive, the
stables were full. We had chickens, dogs, and cats, all living
harmoniously under one roof. After she died, my father had
them either killed or sent away.” Whenever Teach mentioned
his father, a hard mask slid over his features, making him look
much older and fiercer.
“So you didn’t ride for an entire year?” she asked, trying to
change the subject.
Teach paused, his head tilted to the side as he tried to
remember. “It must have been at least six months,” he said. “It
was on Jamaica, and I rode along the beach.”
Anne couldn’t help a slight tinge of jealousy. “That sounds
wonderful. Have you missed it?”
“Yes. But being away at sea was its own reward. I can’t imag-
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ine doing anything else.” As Teach spoke, there was a look of sadness in his eyes. She knew, if his father had his way, Teach would not be returning to sea anytime soon.
Sympathy pierced Anne’s heart, for as long as Teach lived
under his father’s roof, Teach would have to do as he commanded.
They rode in silence for a time, each one lost in thought.
The guarded feeling Anne had whenever she entered the Drummond household was gone now, replaced with a calm she hadn’t
known for quite a while.
“Let’s stop here,” Teach said, dismounting.
Surprised, Anne looked around, seeing no reason for them
to stop. They were at least ten miles from the city. On their
right, scattered across the ground were several large stones covered with lichen and moss, the tree line not far behind. It was not the kind of place she would have chosen to take a break.
“Can we not keep going?” she asked. She could have ridden
for hours and not tired of it.
Teach shook his head, taking the reins from her hands.
“Trust me. You’ll want to see this.”
Anne most definitely did not trust him, but she had little choice. Teach caught her as she slid down. Pulling away from him, she pretended to fix her skirts. In truth, she was flustered at his proximity.
Teach approached the woods and then entered through a
slight opening in the trees. The scent of pines and wet leaves
filled the air, and Anne breathed in deeply. He tied the horses
15 3
to a large branch that looked as if it had been placed there. It’s positioning was too careful for it to have simply fallen. A small stream flowed near their feet.
The trail upon which they walked was overgrown, yet still
visible.
“What is this place?” Anne asked, her voice loud in the
silent surroundings.
Teach did not respond. He continued to walk forward into
the dense forest, sunlight filtering down through the branches
and leaves.
“Sir?” she said.
“Please stop calling me ‘sir.’ That title is reserved for my father.”
“Well, what shall I call you? ‘Mr. Edward?’”
“Teach,” he said.