Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)

Anne drew in a deep breath, wishing Sara hadn’t pulled the

stays so tight in her ivory gown. Now that Anne didn’t work her fingers to the bone every day, her shape had softened. She had curves in places that before had been sharp angles. She waited dutifully as the maid pinned the last pearl clip into her hair, the design matching the pearl choker around her neck. Her hands were slick with perspiration.

“You look beautiful, Miss Anne,” Sara whispered, taking

a step back to look at the girl before her. “Don’t pay attention to what anyone else says about you. You’re a lady, no doubt about it.”

Anne had confided some of her fears to Sara about the

upcoming ball. There would be no way to stem the tide of gos—

sip and speculation her appearance would create, but in order

to gain her inheritance, Anne was willing to face the vultures.





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Turning toward the looking glass, Anne’s eyes widened in surprise. Her skin glowed against the creamy fabric, while her hair hung in luxurious black curls that Sara had painstakingly set and pinned. The combination was mesmerizing, and Anne

couldn’t help the surge of pleasure that ran through her, as she involuntarily wondered what Teach would say.

She’d not seen him since they’d agreed to leave together.

There had been several raised voices and slamming doors from

the Herveys. No doubt the conflict had to do with Anne’s presence in the house.

She’d kept to her room, reading over her father’s papers and

writing a list of things she would take with her when she left. It still seemed unreal to her.

Giving herself a slight shake, Anne turned. “Thank you for

your help, Sara. I shall miss you while you’re gone.” She was

glad Sara had agreed to spend some time with her mother. She

was leaving tonight, and John would escort her home, since

Sara lived in an unsavory part of Bristol.

Anne had no wish to say good-bye, for she’d grown genuinely

fond of Sara.

Following the maid out the door, Anne heard the sound of

voices in the entryway below them.

“I still don’t understand why she has to come,” Patience hissed.

“What does it matter?” Lord Hervey replied. “They simply

wish to announce her coming out.”

The baroness, who had arrived the evening before, spoke





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up. “I knew this would happen. If you want your daughter’s evening to be ruined—”

Teach’s terse voice interrupted her. “Nobody’s evening will

be ruined.”

“It will be if your father doesn’t return soon,” Lady Hervey

said sharply. “His obsession with that ship is disturbing. You’d think he cares more for it than for his own son.”

“My father regrets being called away, but it’s early yet. He

will still be able to make the ball later in the evening. We will not announce the wedding date until he is present.”

A sad smile touched Anne’s lips as she descended the stairs.

Teach would fight this wedding until the bitter end. “Good

evening,” she murmured. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

The four individuals in the entryway turned to look. Both

Patience and Lady Hervey glared at Anne. Lord Hervey’s mouth

dropped open. Teach stared openly, looking splendid in a crisp white shirt and black coat with breeches. The yearning in his

eyes reached across the space between them.

He helped Anne with her matching ivory cloak, the color a

perfect foil for her skin. His fingers brushed her collarbone as he clasped it for her.

Patience quickly grabbed Teach’s sleeve, pulling him closer

to her. As they exited the house, Teach allowed the Herveys to precede him, his eyes skimming Anne from head to toe once

more as he helped her into the carriage.

Anne sat next to the baron, as his wife and daughter had





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taken the other side. She expected Teach to sit between the two women, but their dresses took up too much space. Instead Teach settled himself beside Anne.

It was a tight fit. Miss Patience and her mother glowered at

Anne the entire way. Beside her, Anne felt Teach’s thigh pressed against her own, the heat reaching through the layers between them. His nearness stole the breath from her lungs, and she

was painfully aware of every move he made. She stared out the

window in an attempt to distract her thoughts.

It was no use.

By the time they pulled up in front of the Cardwell estate,

Anne was dizzy. Torches lit the stairs leading up to the grand entrance. The house itself was aflame with lights, the windows full of people milling about in the interior.

The baron and his wife exited first, followed by Patience.

Clutching the arm Teach offered, Anne lifted her skirts and

stepped forward, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest. Her initial reaction to the invitation had been correct. She should have stayed alone at the Drummond house.

Anne hadn’t even accompanied her own father when he’d

been entertained elsewhere. Instead she and her mother had

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