Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)

“We’d just left the port of Tortuga and planned to rendezvous

with some others in Barrett’s fleet off the coast of Jamaica. It was near there that we spotted the first war ship. The Spaniards were dependent on the direction and strength of the wind, so we had 161

an advantage, in that we could outmaneuver them. As they bore down on us, we attempted to get to windward, but were unsuccessful. Three of our sailors were hit by a barrage from the ship’s guns as she passed.”

Teach looked off to the woods, somber and thoughtful. “We

shot back and managed to wound several of the sailors. With no

one at the helm, their ship rounded into the wind and lay helpless. We continued to shoot every man who attempted to take the

rudder and targeted their sails until they were shredded.”

Teach paused in his story to catch a breath. Glancing again

at Anne, he noted the rapt attention she gave him, clearly fascinated and aghast by his account.

“What happened next?” she asked.

Teach frowned. “The Spaniards continued to fire, and our

captain took two shots to the chest. It was at that moment

that I noticed two powder kegs on the deck of the other ship.

Knowing it was our only chance of survival, I ordered our

helmsmen to bring us closer. The Spanish captain commanded

everyone to hit the deck, and I took a shot. It wasn’t enough

to destroy their ship, but it gave us the distraction we needed

to escape.” Teach remembered with vivid clarity the sights and

sounds of the men as some of the Spaniards had caught fire

when the keg had exploded. He could still hear their cries as

they leapt into the ocean in an attempt to douse the flames

burning their flesh.

Anne reached out and touched his arm, seemingly aware of





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his haunted reflections. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Teach looked down at the hand on his sleeve, overcome with

a sudden urge to cover it with his own. Instead he cleared his

throat and looked out across the gorge. It took him a moment

to answer. “I have since come to terms with that event,” he said, his voice raw.

“You saved their lives.”

Teach met her eyes and saw in them understanding and

compassion.

“Yes, by taking the lives of others.”

“If it hadn’t been for you, more men on your ship would

have perished, yourself included,” she said.

Teach shrugged. “If it’s God’s will for me to go, who am I

to stop it?” he asked.

Anne gave a short laugh. “That might be, but God also gave

you a brain and intellect. Would you rather have stood by and

let them kill the lot of you?”

“All I know is that I never want to watch a man suffer like

that at my hand again.”

The silence that followed was pressing, and Teach realized

that whenever the two of them spoke, he revealed more about his

past than she did about hers. He was determined to change that.

“Enough about me,” Teach said. “Tell me, do you have any

family?”

“No one to claim me.”





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Teach was amazed at her ability to avoid answers. “What does that mean, exactly?” he pressed.

“My parents are dead.”

He studied her face. There was an unmistakable look of

sadness in her eyes, and he regretted his insistence that she clar-ify her statement. “I’m sorry for your loss, but that means there is no reason for you to leave my father’s household.”

“It does not matter whether I stay there or not. Once you

marry Miss Patience, you will live with her at her estate.”

His head jerked back as if he had been slapped. “Why do

you insist on bringing Miss Patience into every conversation?”

he demanded.

Anne frowned. “I only speak the truth. Am I wrong in

assuming you will soon be married?”

His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “No. If my father has

his way, we will be wed within the year.”

“And if you had your way?”

“If I had my way, I would leave tomorrow on the first ship

sailing out of Bristol, regardless of its destination.” And never return. Afraid that once more he’d said too much, Teach stood abruptly. “I believe we should go back.”

Anne waited as he placed the chairs once more inside the

cottage. He led the way through the trees, and they found their

horses exactly as they had left them. Lifting her back up into

her saddle, he allowed his fingers to linger slightly longer than 16 4

necessary on her waist. She glanced at him sharply, but Teach pretended not to notice.

He did not truly desire to return to the house, but knew it

would not do to remain any longer in the woods.

They rode back in relative silence. Teach was tired. Perhaps

it was a lingering effect from his illness.

As the house drew nearer, he felt the familiar bands of tight—

ness settling around his heart. Anne’s own face mirrored his, for her eyes were no longer shining, and her cheeks were no longer flushed.

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