Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)(44)

hand through his hair. “I am not in the habit of bringing helpless maids to the middle of the forest.”

“I might not have a pail handy, but I would not characterize

myself as helpless. Why can’t I return to the house?”

“Because I simply wanted to show you something. Why is

that so hard to understand?” His voice echoed around them, and a 15 5

quail, upset by all the shouting, shot upward, wings flapping wildly to escape. After a few failed attempts at flight, it settled several paces away. Just because it had wings did not mean it could fly well.

She studied Teach’s face, but his expression revealed nothing except for his annoyance. In return he continued to watch

her, waiting for her to make a decision.

“All right,” she said at last. Catching her lip between her

teeth, she nodded, indicating that he should lead the way.

As they walked, Anne heard the distant sound of running water. The farther he led her into the forest, the louder it became. Soon they happened upon a small stone cottage with two chimneys, set in a clearing. The old rock wall surrounding

it was in ruins. Teach proceeded past the cottage, toward a stone ledge. Holding out his hand, he motioned for her to join him.

His fingers clasped hers, firm and warm, and she took a

tentative step toward the edge, gasping at the beauty before her.

Far below, a river meandered through a rocky gorge. Both sides

of the ravine sported uneven and precipitous cliff faces with a

broken line of hawthorns visible near the water’s edge. Upon

closer inspection, Anne also recognized the golden leaves of the whitebeams.

“Well?” Teach asked.

She could only shake her head and cast a quick glance at

him, noting the satisfaction in his features. “I don’t know what to say,” she said at last.

“‘Thank you’? Or ‘I shall endeavor to trust you in the future’?”





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A grin tugged at her lips. “I would not go so far as that.”

Teach opened his mouth, but Anne continued before he could

say anything. “But yes, thank you for bringing me here. How

did you find this place?”

Teach leaned back against a tree, releasing her hand. “My

mother had my father build this cottage for her. It was a place

for her to get away.”

His own mother had needed to escape the house, Anne

thought. Somehow, she was not surprised

“It’s lovely,” she said, no longer anxious that it was just the

two of them. “She must have come here often.”

He shrugged. “As often as her illness would allow. Toward

the end she wasn’t able to move much. My father would bring

out a chair for her and set it right here.” He indicated a spot in the center of the ledge. “She would hold the dog’s lead in one hand. When she was ready to go inside, she’d release the dog,

and he would go and find my father.”

“Your father wouldn’t sit with her out here?”

Teach tore a leaf from an overhead branch and ripped it to

shreds. “My father can’t remain still for too long. He never went far, but he could not stand to see her in that state. I think she preferred the solitude as well. He would go and look for willow bark or other roots and plants to ease her pain.”

“No herbs or medicine could cure her?”

Teach’s voice was bitter. “The doctors claimed nothing

could have saved her.”





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Anne swallowed around the unexpected lump in her throat.

Her own father had collapsed and died before any doctor could

be summoned.

Teach crushed a spider beneath his boot. “Until then, he

did what he could to make her time here on earth as comfortable as possible. But what good are linen sheets and feather beds when your body is racked with pain?”

Anne was reminded of her own mother’s death. After

Henry had kicked them out, Jacqueline had found employment

in an earl’s household. She’d been beaten when she’d refused the advances of the earl’s son. By the time she’d made it home, she’d been bloodied and broken.

They hadn’t had enough money at the time to call on a doctor. Anne had been so enraged, she’d nearly gone to the house and killed the man responsible. Only the fact that her mother had been in agonizing pain and had needed constant attention had

prevented Anne from carrying out her plans. Her mother passed

away three days later. A short time later, Henry found her.

What would be more frustrating? Knowing you had the

means but couldn’t utilize them? Or not having the means, and

knowing there was nothing you could do to help the situation?

“I’m sorry,” Anne said, wishing she could say something

that did not sound so trite. She was all too familiar with empty words, having experienced loss of her own.

Teach stared woodenly at the ground. “I am too,” he whispered, almost to himself.





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C H A P T E R 1 5

Teach

Teach could not believe that the girl sitting by his side was the same one who’d assaulted him with a pail in the market. Nor could he believe he’d brought her here, to his mother’s favorite resting spot.