Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)

like I asked.”

“You didn’t ask me, Father. You never ask me anything. You either demand or command.” Teach spoke with a boldness no doubt born out of desperation. Anne recognized the anxiety

and frustration on his face, for they mirrored her own. These

were serious charges indeed. If found guilty, Teach would hang.

The thought filled her with dread.

“If the baron or Miss Patience find out about these charges,

it could mean the end of your engagement. They have sent

word that they will arrive in two days’ time to discuss a date

for the wedding. I don’t know how to stop them from coming.”





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Caught off guard by the news, Anne was unprepared for the sharp stab of jealousy that pierced her. Miss Patience would be returning. She chanced a glance at Teach, to gauge his reaction to his father’s statement about Miss Patience, but his expression was closed.

“Miss Patience is ill,” Teach said.

“She appears to be on the mend,” Drummond snapped.

“I should leave you,” Anne said.

“No, please don’t. I must rely on you to make sure Edward

does as I ask this time.”

Teach rubbed the back of his neck. “Father, let me go with

you. I’ll speak to the constable and explain to him that those

charges cannot possibly be true. I did not commit any crimes.”

“You expect him to believe you?” Drummond demanded.

“Why wouldn’t he?” Teach shot back. “I’ve done nothing

wrong.”

Even though it was not directed at her, Anne felt the full

force of Mr. Drummond’s fury, and she wished she’d waited

until the morning to try to speak with him.

Drummond opened his mouth once again, but Anne

stepped forward, hoping to defuse the situation. “Please, what

is to be done?”

“Have you not heard of the men they apprehended earlier,

the ones charged and convicted of piracy?” Drummond asked.

Anne nodded, sure she would not forget them for as long

as she lived.





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“The constable says, since their capture, he’s had at least two new charges of piracy brought before him. It’s the equiva-lent of a witch hunt.” Drummond turned an accusing finger at Teach. “And if you hadn’t insisted on sailing, I would not be in this predicament.”

“What evidence did they have against those men?” Anne

asked.

“They were caught unloading stolen goods from a ship late

at night. It’s suspected they’ve been attacking merchants near

the continent for the last six months at least.”

“But in the past six months, he was nowhere near these

shores,” Anne said. “That should be easy enough to prove.”

“Yes, well, with everyone clamoring for justice to be served,

the investigation will proceed, regardless of where he was. As

I’ve said, I’m meeting with my solicitor shortly. Edward is not to leave the house until I return.”

“You can’t be serious,” Teach said.

“I am. And this time you will do exactly as I say. I do not

want you venturing into the city, for any reason. You are to stay here and wait for Miss Patience’s arrival.”

“And what should I tell her? How long will you be gone?”

Teach asked.

“I have not the faintest idea, but I do not expect to return

home until the matter is resolved satisfactorily. I will do whatever it takes to see these charges dropped, and will send word with a messenger once I have more information.” With that,





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Drummond turned on his heel and left the two of them alone.

It was several moments before Anne heard the sound of

Drummond’s carriage fading away. Teach remained where he

was, staring at the floor, his mouth grim.

Anne wanted to say something, anything to comfort him,

but wasn’t sure what that should be. Glancing at the door, she

almost wished for Margery to appear. But the house was silent,

except for the occasional pop of the fire.

“My father thinks I’m the devil incarnate,” Teach said,

striding to the hearth. He stabbed the logs with the fire iron.

Sparks flew up, illuminating his face with a dangerous light, as the evening outside darkened to dusk.

“You don’t mean that,” she said.

“Don’t I?”

“No. He just wants to see that your name is cleared.”

“Not my name, Anne. His. He’s never cared about my thoughts or my dreams. It’s always been about him and what

he wants.”

“He wouldn’t have rushed off in such haste if he didn’t care

for you. He’s a powerful man. If anyone can have the charges

dropped—”

Teach flung the fire iron against the nearest wall. The wood

paneling cracked beneath the force, and the rod clattered to

the floor. He rounded on Anne and approached her, his steps

purposeful. “If word of this gets out, which it undoubtedly will, then any chance my father had of the aristocracy accepting him





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will be gone. That is what he cares about. That is why he was so quick to act.”

Had their relationship always been so volatile? Or had it

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