Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)(34)

packed with lively games of cards, drawing plenty of interest

from the raucous crowd, and Teach picked a seat near the back

wall, enjoying his anonymity. The fact that nobody could recognize him beneath his disguise was reassuring. The floppy hat

pulled down low over his forehead prevented anyone from getting a good look at his face, and the rough jacket John had

provided fit in with the rest of the drunken horde.

There was no way Drummond would hear of Teach’s activities, which was another reason Teach had sought out this particular establishment. Drummond would not have been caught

dead in a tavern located in this part of town.

Teach, on the other hand, felt quite at home as he sipped an

ale, enjoying the atmosphere and the revelry.

“Bring me another pint!” a large blond called out, his bul—

bous fist waving his mug in the air.

A bolt of recognition shot through Teach, and he looked in

the direction of the booming voice. His old nemesis from Eton,

Henry Barrett, sat at a table in the far corner. Teach frowned,

debating if he should leave or remain where he was. During

their years at school, Teach and Henry had come to blows more

than once.

A short, ginger-haired companion attempted to wrestle

Henry’s bulky arm back down. “Come on, Barrett. You’ve had





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enough. Concentrate on the game,” he said gruffly, sweat standing out on his brow.

Henry Barrett shook him off, like a giant swatting a fly, and

shoved him back so that the small man lost his footing. “I’ll tell you when I’m done,” he bellowed, slamming the mug onto the table.

Someone helped the unlucky fellow to his feet while Henry

picked up his cards and the game resumed.

A harassed barmaid struggled through the crowd, a frothy

ale in her hands. She was almost to Barrett’s table when she

stumbled and fell forward. The drink doused a nearby sailor,

who stood up, sputtering. Everyone’s attention was drawn to

the spectacle. In that same instant Henry rearranged two cards

in the deck, which let Teach know the game was rigged and the

cards were textured. Henry had been fingering them, giving the

illusion of thorough shuffling, but what he’d really been doing

was trying to find the match.

Teach whistled under his breath, not sure if he should be

impressed by the boldness of Henry’s actions, for the three other players involved in the game were by no means small. If they discovered Henry’s deceit, Teach was quite sure Henry would

leave the premises in a decidedly altered state.

Not that Teach would mind. After all these years Henry

still had to resort to deception in order to win a single hand. He was as incompetent as Teach remembered. Teach wasn’t worried about Henry recognizing him, for Henry had already enjoyed

his fair share of ale.





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If only William were here, Teach thought idly. William would take great pleasure in winning Henry’s ill-gotten gains from him, for William was the superior player.

Drawing in a deep breath, Teach pulled John’s coat more

closely around his shoulders. After a few more hands were

played, the game was over. Barrett reached out his meaty arms

and drew the coins toward him. They fell into a drawstring

pouch that he shoved into his longcoat.

Pushing back his chair, Henry slipped the cards into his

pocket, before staggering toward the door. No one would

know that he’d cheated. That didn’t sit well with Teach, so he

slipped out the back of the room, through the grease-filled

kitchen, ignoring the angry calls of the cook. The stench in

the alley nearly choked him. Henry Barrett walked down

the middle of the street, his thick legs unsteady beneath his

bulk.

Teach longed to settle the score with Barrett, and decided

now would be the best time to do it. If fate had led him to the

tavern that night, who was he to question it?

Swaying down the dark street, Henry appeared unaware

of the stealthy figure following him. Shadows swirled around

Teach’s feet, and he clenched his hands, anticipation coursing

through him as he thought how to best his opponent.

Luckily for Teach, Henry was the one who presented the

opportunity. He approached a park, the outlines of the bushes

and shrubbery creating enough cover for Teach to move closer.





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Henry strolled toward a tree, clearly intent on relieving himself of his countless pints of ale.

While Henry was otherwise engaged, Teach drew forward,

picked up a branch lying nearby, and poked the tip into Henry’s

back, all in one swift movement.

Turning, Henry scrambled to reach for his weapon.

Teach was too speedy for him. With deft movements he

knocked Barrett’s pistol away while at the same time pushing

him to the ground.

Teach stood over him, clearly with the advantage. It took

considerable effort on his part to refrain from laughing as