Says you didn’t deserve it, not after what you done.”
Not even Margery was above stealing from Drummond.
Martha continued to speak, rambling on about merchant
ships and how none of them could compare to the grandness of
the Deliverance and how a large crowd would no doubt come to watch it set sail.
Lying back against the small pillow, Anne tuned Martha
out, closing her eyes against the physical discomfort. Anne had tried to loosen the ropes that bound her but had been unsuc—
cessful. Her side still throbbed from where she’d fallen, as did her hands and knees.
Anne needed to conserve her strength if she wanted to
escape. If there was indeed a large crowd when the ship set sail, 3 4 7
that might be to her benefit if she could not get away earlier.
If she was unable to flee . . .
The Deliverance was bound for the West Indies, but Anne was not sure where it would call ashore first. She knew the
island her mother was from, but she did not know if she had
any living relatives there.
Which brought up the question of where she should go.
Drummond had said he would send part of her inheritance
along to the White Stag. What would he do if he discovered
Anne wasn’t at the inn? Would he search for her?
And did Martha and Margery know about that arrange—
ment? They would surely steal the money if they did, and Anne
would be left destitute once more.
Unfortunately, Anne did not know the answer to any of
these questions, and despite her best efforts, tears formed once again in her eyes.
Anne’s stomach churned, and her palms were slick with perspiration. She eyed the bowl Martha had brought, but doubted
she’d be able to keep anything down if she tried.
The sound of Martha’s voice brought her out of her reverie.
“I’ll leave the broth here in case you change your mind, and
I’ll check back in a bit. I wouldn’t turn my nose up at it if I was you,” Martha said, a sneer pinching her lips. “If Bartholomew hears you’re not eating, he might not feel so inclined to give you anything again.”
Fire surged through Anne’s blood as she watched the old
3 4 8
maid quit the room. Only when she was alone and Martha’s footsteps had faded in the distance did Anne once again fight to free herself from her bonds.
Martha might come back, but by then Anne hoped to be
long gone.
3 4 9
C H A P T E R 3 5
Teach
Teach went straight to his room to gather his clothes. He
intended to search the docks for Anne, and when he found her,
they would leave on the next available ship. It didn’t matter
where it was headed, as long as it took them far away from
England. And his father.
A soft knock at the door halted his movements. He ignored it.
He rolled up a shirt and threw it into the small bag he
would take with him. He would not be returning.
The knock became more insistent. “Sir! Please! It’s urgent I
speak with you.”
That was not his father’s voice. The amber glow from the
candlelight flickered as Teach strode to the door. Opening it, he saw Elizabeth’s pinched face as she wrung her hands.
“What do you want?” Teach demanded.
“Please, you have to come with me, sir. Miss Anne needs you.”
3 5 0
Gripping Elizabeth’s wrist, he pulled her into his room and checked the hallway before closing the door. “Where is she?”
“Your father had her taken away, sir. By two mean-looking
men. They were supposed to take her to the White Stag, but my
brother heard them talking and changing their plans. He followed them. Miss Anne tried to escape, but they caught her. I
think she’s hurt, sir. And they’re keeping her in an awful place.”
Shaking his head, Teach closed his eyes briefly against the
surge of white-hot rage. “Who took her? Can your brother
show me where they are?”
Elizabeth nodded, her eyes wide with fear. “Yes, sir. He’s
waiting downstairs with your horse—”
“Is my father in the dining room?”
“No, sir. He asked for his meal to be sent up. You must
hurry. If Margery finds me here . . .”
Teach didn’t need to be told twice. Throwing the bag across
his shoulder, he silently headed for the back stairs. Elizabeth didn’t carry a candle, and there was no moonlight to illuminate the way. Although the rain had stopped, the night was still dark, and they crept noiselessly along the stairwell.
In the courtyard Teach saw the outline of the young groom
where he held Kaiser’s reins in his hands. Teach’s breath escaped in small puffs, the chill in the air biting. “What’s your name?”
Teach whispered, swinging up into the saddle.
“David, sir.”
“And you followed the men when they took Miss Anne?”
3 51
“Aye, sir. I saw her being taken to the carriage. It didn’t look like she was very happy about it, so I jumped on the back once they left the premises. They didn’t suspect a thing,” he said, his chest jutting out with pride.
Teach pulled David up behind him. “I’ll see that you’re