After weeks on board the ship, Anne had finally slept deeply. She shuddered as she scrubbed the grime from her skin, grateful for the cool, fresh water and floral-scented soap. She washed her hair with the pitcher of water from the nightstand. Using a blackwood brush to comb through her thick waves, she quickly braided her hair and left it hanging down her back. She looked at her tattered and rotting shoes and decided to leave them behind. Padding barefoot across the courtyard, the packed dirt beneath her feet was warm from the heat of the afternoon sun.
In the kitchen, Anne discovered Alastair and Beth sitting together at the worn wooden table. Once when Anne was little and couldn’t sleep, she’d crept down to the kitchen and discovered her parents in a similar scenario. The rest of the household had slept, but Anne would never forget that image of her parents, one of the rare occasions she’d seen them together. At the time, she hadn’t understood their whispered discussions or shared smiles. It wasn’t until she’d shared similar moments with Teach that she fully grasped their meaning.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Anne said, hesitating in the doorway.
Alastair stood, but still held on to Beth’s hand. “You’re not interrupting. Did you rest well?”
Beth got to her feet and moved toward the fire. She dished something out of the pot that hung there and motioned for Anne to sit down. “Come have some conch stew.”
Anne’s mother had told her about the large shellfish that lived in the shallow waters surrounding the islands. Anne’s stomach reacted to the scent of the rich broth and her mouth watered. “Thank you,” she said, sliding gratefully onto the stool Alastair provided for her. She’d been so exhausted, she hadn’t given much thought to food, but now that she’d rested, she realized just how hungry she was. She took a tentative bite of the sweet white meat and spicy broth. It was delicious.
“Where’s Cara?” Anne asked.
“She’s working in the tavern,” Alastair said, leaning against the table beside Beth.
Anne flushed guiltily and began to rise, but Alastair stopped her. “There’s no need for you to rush out there. It’s early yet and doesn’t get busy until the evening. Take your time and eat.”
“But I don’t want to be a burd—”
“You’re not a burden. And you’ll be pleased to know that Governor Webb said he’d send out two ships for the Deliverance.”
Relieved at his words, Anne wondered how long would it take for the ships to be ready. She sincerely hoped it wasn’t too late. “The captain was a coward not to stay to help.”
Alastair nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps. But he did what he thought was best at the time.”
Anne said nothing as she ate. She’d never forget the feeling of desperation and helplessness as the Providence had sailed away, leaving the Deliverance on its own. If Teach had figured out her note and sailed on his father’s ship like he’d planned, that meant the fate of the Deliverance was Teach’s fate as well.
A loud laugh sounded from the tavern, accompanied by the call for another round of drinks. Anne wondered how Cara was faring. She herself didn’t relish the thought of working amongst the rowdy patrons.
Beth placed a tankard in front of her. “This is the juice from a pineapple. Have you ever tried it?”
“No, never.” Anne took a sip, surprised by the vibrant flavor. It had a sweet taste with a hint of tartness. “Thank you,” Anne said, feeling refreshed after she swallowed the last drop.
Beth smiled and refilled the tankard. “We can’t have you collapsing on your first day here, now can we?”
“Is it always like this?” Anne asked, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. Her blouse already stuck to her skin, and beads of perspiration rolled down her face.
Alastair nodded. “Mostly. When the winds come, it will cool off a bit. If you aren’t used to the warmth, it can be overwhelming.”
“How can anyone possibly cook in this heat?”
“We all have to eat. But people mostly come to The Laughing Fox to drink. Only a few ever require any meals,” Beth said.
Alastair and Beth watched Anne take another spoonful of the stew.
“Coyle told me what you’ve been through. So you know this merchant, Richard Drummond, do you?” Alastair asked.
“Yes,” Anne said.
“And he’s the one who sent you away?”
Anne’s throat closed around her response, remembering the scene at the Drummond household when Drummond had told her to leave. She swallowed, her eyes meeting Alastair’s. “Yes.”
“The devil hang him. I don’t know the man, but he had no right sending a girl off on a ship by herself. What kind of irresponsible—”
“Al, let the poor girl eat. Can’t you see how thin she is? We can discuss this later,” Beth murmured.
Anne laid her spoon down. “No, it’s fine. I appreciate your kindness.” Glancing between Beth and Alastair, Anne drew a deep breath. Unsure exactly how much Coyle had said, Anne decided it would be best to be forthright from the start. “My father’s name was Andrew Barrett. He was an English merchant. My mother worked for him in his household, but she came from the island of Cura?ao.”
Beth and Alastair remained silent.
“If it isn’t too much to ask, I’d like to send word to my father’s solicitor in Bristol. I left before I was able to tell him of my whereabouts. Once I hear back from him, I’ll be able to move on.”
“Aye, Coyle told me you hoped to find some of your mother’s family. Do you know where they might be?”
Anne mentioned the name of the village on the island of Cura?ao.
“I’ll send someone to inquire after them for you.” Alastair exchanged a glance with Beth. “Although if we’re being honest, I should warn you not to hold out much hope.”
“I’m aware it might be difficult—”
Beth interrupted Anne, her expression kind. “It’s not just about finding them, Anne. I don’t mean to be cruel, but . . . how long had it been since your mother had any contact with them?”
Anne’s chest tightened. She couldn’t quite remember the last time her mother had told her about any of her relatives. Anne had an uncle somewhere as well as her mother’s cousins, but when was the last time either of her parents had mentioned them? Had it been four years? Or five? What had become of them?
Andrew Barrett had always promised to take Anne to her mother’s island, but he’d been a wealthy white merchant. His life was privileged and he knew no restrictions. The reality for Anne and her mother was quite different.
After Anne’s mother had died and Anne had arrived in the Drummond household, she’d never felt so alone and out of place. She’d clung to the stories of her mother’s people like a lifeline, feeling a tie to her roots. Now, in the harsh reality of day, Anne had to face facts. It was quite possible none of her family members were alive.
Beth cleared her throat. “I don’t know what life was like for you in England, but you should know that here in the islands, it’s hard and often brutal. Most people don’t hold respect for a person of color, whether bond or free. They believe we have no rights. Or opinions. To them, we’re expendable, something to be bartered or bought. I’m sure you noticed Benjamin’s scars.”
Anne nodded dully.
“He’s one of the lucky ones. He escaped from a plantation in Jamaica where he attended the stables.”