Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)

Anne caught her lip between her teeth, but made no response.

Her silence frightened him. “Please, Anne. I know I cannot

begin to understand how you must feel. I’m sorry you had to

go through what you did. I’m sorry Henry Barrett lied to you.

If I could, I would kill him with my own hands if I thought it

would make a difference. I still might. But right now my father is in charge of—”

Anne held up her hand. “Yes, and you heard Mr. Cogswell.

Your father plans to move my inheritance into his account. His

account, not mine! As my guardian, he controls my life as much

as he controls yours, except I have even fewer liberties than you.”

“But that’s only until you’re eighteen.”

“Which feels like a lifetime away. I must speak with Master

Drummond and see if he will release the money sooner.”

“But your own father wanted you to wait.” I want you to wait.

“I refuse to be a burden to anyone. I simply wish to live my

life as I choose, to go where I choose. What is so hard to understand?” Anne asked.

“You were born in this country, Anne. You have no idea

what life is truly anywhere else. I’ve been to the islands and

have seen the way people live. It’s a hard existence. You can’t go alone. It’s far too dangerous.”

“I want to at least be given the chance.”

The air in the carriage seemed to shrink, charged with

oppressed tension. It reminded Teach of an uneasy calm before

a storm.





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Anne’s breathing wasn’t quite steady, her agitation obvious.

“I do not mean to sound ungrateful, but I’m tired of others

directing my life. I’m ready to take charge of it and see where my choices lead me.”

Teach sat back, his unease sharpening into something else.

He could not argue with Anne, for he was all too familiar with

her hopes. How often had he longed to tell his father the exact same thing?

But Teach knew Drummond, better than anyone else,

and as much as Teach understood Anne’s feelings, he sincerely

hoped that his father would be able to change her mind.





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C H A P T E R 2 0

Anne

The library was Anne’s favorite room. The wide windows

usually let in long slanting rectangles of light, warming the

otherwise cold house. And there were, of course, the books to

linger over, innumerable titles containing wonderful details of adventure.

At the moment, however, a stormy sky outside cast ominous shadows over the library’s carpeted floor and obscured

Drummond’s expression. Anne hesitated in the doorway,

unsure if she should follow Teach in, or . . .

“Father—”

“I see that trouble has again darkened our door,” Drummond

said, swirling a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

Anne stopped short, exchanging a questioning glance with

Teach. Was it possible Drummond knew what she was about to

ask him?





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Teach continued a few more paces and stopped beside his father’s chair. “Sir?”

“None of this would have happened if you had simply done

as I asked,” Drummond said, his mouth hardening as he looked

up at his son.

“What’s wrong?’ Teach asked.

Drummond tipped back his head and downed the rest of

his drink before he answered. “This will ruin everything. Everything that I’ve worked so hard to accomplish.”

“What?”

“You’ve been charged with piracy.”

Anne’s stomach plummeted, every muscle clenching with

fear. Any argument for her own cause fled from her mind,

replaced with an image of those five men in the cart. Except, in their place she saw Teach.

“That’s impossible.” Teach’s body tensed.

Drummond stood slowly, as if he’d aged ten years in the

short time since Anne had last seen him. The grooves in his face were more pronounced than ever. He thrust a piece of paper at Teach. “See for yourself.”

Teach took the paper and scanned its contents, while Anne

moved silently to his side and read over his shoulder.

In support of our sovereign lord the king, upon oath, I present that Edward Drummond, late of Bristol, mari-ner, not having the fear of God before his eyes, but being





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moved and seduced by the instigation of the devil, by force and arms, upon the high seas, and within the jurisdic-tion of the admiralty of England, did piratically and feloniously set upon, board, break, and enter a certain merchant ship . . .

Teach crumpled up the paper before Anne could read any

further. “There is no basis for these allegations,” he ground out, visibly trying to control his anger.

“Who dares accuse him of such things?” Anne asked.

“The constable did not say. There is to be an inquiry. I have

arranged for my Bristol solicitor to meet me at his office, and will leave within the hour. I do not expect to return anytime soon.”

“Shall I come with you?” Teach asked.

“No! You’ve done enough. None of this would have happened if you’d simply stayed home and married Miss Patience

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