Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)

The storm was too strong to attempt reaching the shore.”

“But when you landed this morning, you didn’t come home

immediately, did you?”

Teach was convinced his father had some mystical ball

through which he looked and controlled everyone else’s life. It

was useless to lie. “No, you are correct. I went to see the ship.”

“And?” Drummond asked.

“It’s a beautiful vessel and will serve the fleet well,” Teach

said, choosing his words carefully.

It was clearly the correct thing to say. His father’s face

beamed with pride. “They thought a ship that large couldn’t be

built,” he said, his tone arrogant.

Teach nodded. “Yes, even William said—”





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Drummond frowned. “William? You mean the Earl of

Lorimar?”

Too late Teach realized his mistake. He stuttered, regretting his hasty response. “Yes, I—I saw William . . . I mean,

I saw Lorimar briefly.” The world of the English peerage was

confusing, with its many names and customs, and Teach had a

hard time bringing himself to call his former schoolmate by his

proper title. Thankfully, William did not stand on ceremony, at

least not in private. In fact, it was William who had first started calling him “Teach.”

As the only son of the Duke and Duchess of Cardwell, William had been given a courtesy title at birth, the Earl of Lorimar. Upon his father’s death, William would then become the

next Duke of Cardwell.

“What was so important that you went to see your friend

first?” Drummond demanded, clearly not pleased.

Teach winced. If it hadn’t been for Anne, he would have

been home sooner. As it was, he’d been so angry at the time

that he’d decided to head to William’s, since the duke’s estate

was closer to the center of town. “He said in a letter that he had something important to tell me.”

“And? What was it?”

“William—I mean Lorimar—was accepted into Cam—

bridge,” Teach said, saying the first thing that came to mind. In truth, he’d not kept up any correspondence with William.

Drummond exhaled loudly. “Yes, I already knew that.





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Surely that could have waited until this afternoon? The earl will be dining with us, after all.”

Teach shrugged. “I was unaware of that until I spoke to

him. And he is on the route home. I’m sorry, Father.”

“Yes, well, so am I. I’m not sure I’ve ordered enough food

to satisfy his hunger.” He gave his son a shrewd look. “Does he

still enjoy his sweets?”

“He looked . . . well,” Teach said, aware of his friend’s tendency to eat anything within sight. “It appears he has his weak—

ness firmly in hand.” “Firm” might have been a bit of a stretch, but William had lost some weight since the last time Teach had seen him.

Drummond was clearly unconvinced. “I still don’t understand what you hope to gain by his acquaintance. I should have

put a stop to your friendship long ago.”

“Mother liked him well enough,” Teach said.

“Your mother always saw the good in people, whether it

was there or not. If she could see what Lorimar has become, I’m

quite sure she would agree with me. He doesn’t take anything

seriously; he’s lazy and under the misconception that you can

cure the world of its ailments simply by throwing a pastry at it.”

Teach knew his father’s dislike of William had more to do

with William’s father than with William’s affinity for overin—

dulgence.

The Duke of Cardwell had been opposed to the Deliverance, claiming its size would give Richard Drummond an unfair 2 5

advantage over the other merchants when it came to com-merce and trade. In the end the duke had lost the argument, and he’d also lost Drummond’s respect.

Teach decided to keep his mouth shut. He suspected the

only reason his father had invited William was so the earl could relay to the duke how impressive the ship was and what a grand vessel it had turned out to be.

Drummond pulled out his gold pocket watch to check the

time. “You must shave. Miss Patience and her family will be

here shortly,” he said.

He wished he had more time to prepare for her arrival, but

there was a part of Teach excited to see Patience again. Although she was a baron’s daughter, when the two of them were alone together, she acted more like a scullery maid, allowing him to

do things no lady of noble breeding should agree to.

But at the moment he was exhausted and wished for nothing more than to soak in the tub and rid himself of weeks of

filth and grime. As much as he loved being at sea, there were

benefits to coming ashore. “Can you not write and ask them to

come tomorrow?”

His father snorted. “They are already on their way and

should be here within the hour. You’ve known about this for

quite some time, Edward. Why do you insist on provoking me?”

“I do not control the skies, Father. You cannot blame me for

weather postponing my return,” he protested.

“I blame you, because you insisted on this foolishness in the





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