Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)(22)

any distractions.”

He frowned, a small muscle working in his jaw. “Is that all

I am to you? A distraction?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You know I care about you. Only

yesterday you were willing to meet me in private. What has

changed? Do you not still find me attractive?”

In answer, Teach’s shoulders hunched forward in a violent

spasm. Anne jumped to her feet, tempted to call out, but there

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was nothing to be done. Teach turned his head too late, spew-ing his portion of the picnic down the front of Miss Patience’s dress.

Anne’s hands flew to her mouth.

Miss Patience froze, a look of horror spreading across her

face. The only sound to escape her lips was a repeated whimper,

like a sick pup, her bottom lip quivering.

Teach was no help, for he continued to retch by her side.

At least he’d had the decency to turn himself slightly, so that

she was no longer in the line of fire. The damage, however, was

done.

The two stood next to each other, each one caught up in

their own misery. It would have been difficult to decide who

appeared more upset at the moment.

Shaking with suppressed laughter, Anne watched as Miss

Patience eventually turned in the direction of the house, slightly bent at the waist. With mincing steps she disappeared through the archway back into the gardens, muttering beneath her

breath the entire time.

Only when the young master dropped to his knees was

Anne brought up short. By now, dry heaves racked his body,

but still he did not stop.

Anne vacillated for a second more before sweeping the

branches out of the way and going to him. Until now the stallion had stood quietly by his side, but he whinnied and approached as Anne bent over his owner.





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Sweat soaked Teach’s brow as well as his shirt. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw her.

Reaching forward, Anne grabbed him under the arms and

attempted to help him up, careful to stay out of range. After

hesitating, he threw a heavy arm over her shoulders, leaning on

her as she directed him back to the house. She picked up the

reins, and the stallion followed behind.

Their advancement was slow. He was at least a head taller

than Anne, and she felt like a child next to him. He certainly

resembled an old man at the moment, not the vibrant young

man he was. By the time they reached the stable, the sun was

low in the sky.

The groom rushed out when he saw them, and Anne

stepped to the side. “Here, Tom, take him to his room,” she

said, for she could not have made it up the stairs under Teach’s weight. The two of them disappeared while Anne took the stallion back to the barn. Once she removed his saddle, she

brushed him down and gave him fresh grain, before returning

to the house.

Mary and Sara rushed by her, each carrying a bucket of

water.

“Mr. Edward is sick,” Mary said over her shoulder.

“Aye, he was sick all over Miss Patience,” Sara said, unable

to hide the smile on her face. “You should have heard her when

she came in. She swears like a sailor when she thinks no one

is near.”





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Margery came back down the stairs just then, carrying a dark blue dress. Even if Anne hadn’t recognized it, the smell alone would have been enough to tell her it was Miss Patience’s

garment.

Thrusting it into Anne’s arms, Margery said, “Here. Do

what ye can with this. It’s new, and the missus doesn’t want to

throw it away.”

Anne retreated to the washing kitchen, grateful to be out

of the chaos but resentful that she was left to clean up the

mess. Miss Patience was nothing more than a spoiled child,

and Anne was sick of everyone treating the girl as if she were

a queen.

Once the water in the large pot had boiled, Anne removed

it from the fire and dunked the entire dress into it. It would

need to soak for several hours, if not a few days.

The mark was large, the color of burgundy, and despite the

dark shade of the dress, Anne didn’t hold out much hope of

ridding the garment of the stain. Anne had packed their picnic

lunch.

While salt and wine could get out a grease stain, she doubted

that salt and grease would remove a wine stain. From the looks

of it, the young master had had his fair share of the liquid that afternoon.

With a stout stick she stirred the water, lifting the material

out every once in a while to check its progress. It was indeed a beautiful gown, although on closer inspection she saw that the





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material wasn’t as rich as she’d first thought, the workmanship not of the highest quality.

Anne left the wash kitchen for a time to help Margery serve

supper. Neither Teach nor Miss Patience was present during the

evening meal, and the conversation was subdued. Lady Hervey

picked at her food, while Lord Hervey and Master Drummond