Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)(45)

Not even Patience knew of this place, and Teach was unsure

if he would ever show it to her. Something inside him balked

at the idea, for he knew she would fail to appreciate its simple beauty. Patience would only notice what was lacking. It wasn’t a grand residence. It was a cottage, with two rooms and a quaint porch. His mother had had no desire to ruin the natural surroundings with anything large or garish.

Perhaps Teach would keep it for his own, a secret getaway

when married life to Patience grew to be too much for him.

Unnerved by his train of thought, Teach bit back a curse. He

wasn’t even married yet, and already he was planning trips without his future bride-to-be? It did not bode well for their union.





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Neither did the fact that he was quite enjoying Anne’s company. He recognized in her the same restless spirit that he possessed, and he was glad he’d chosen to spend the day with

her. Teach could see that in her own way, she was beginning to

trust him.

The rays of the sun peered down through the trees, warm—

ing the area where Teach and Anne sat. He’d taken the liberty of bringing two chairs from the cottage out to the ledge, and they watched the river flow through the gorge below.

Teach pulled out Dampier’s book from his coat pocket and

held it aloft. “Would you be so kind as to continue where you

left off?” he asked.

Anne smiled, but shook her head. “No.”

Shocked, he raised his brows at her. “No? I thought you

liked hearing about all of their adventures.”

“I do. It’s like holding a dream in my hands. But you’re no

longer ill,” she said pointedly. “And I am no longer required to wait on you hand and foot.”

Teach grinned, liking the fact that he never knew what kind

of a reaction he would receive from her. Just when he thought

he had Anne figured out, she turned around and surprised him.

“All right. I’ll read to you. What chapter were we on?” he

asked.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed the book, I would actually like to

hear more about your adventures. You mentioned at dinner the

other day that you were attacked by a Spanish sloop and that





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your captain died of his injuries. If it isn’t too painful, I would like to hear the tale.”

Teach could not picture Patience showing any interest in

his activities at sea. Nor his father. Even William, despite professing to be such a good friend, would sooner discuss affairs of the state than listen to any accounts of life on a merchant

ship. “Well, I’m not sure where to begin. I left England four

months prior to the attack, and we’d managed to trade all of the goods we’d secured. Our captain was a good man, handpicked by Andrew Barrett himself. Barrett expected integrity from all

of his employees, whether they were a simple cook or a captain

on one of his ships. I was impressed with the crew, for they were all decent men.”

“You seem to hold Andrew Barrett in high regard,” Anne

said, folding her hands in her lap.

Teach nodded. “I do, and I was sorry to hear about his

death. Henry brings dishonor to the family name.”

Anne grimaced.

“I’m sorry for bringing up Henry. I forgot you used to work

for him. That can’t have been pleasant.”

“No, I’m sorry. I interrupted your story.” She gave him a

small smile. “Please, continue.”

“We’d just left the port of Tortuga and planned to rendezvous

with some others in Barrett’s fleet off the coast of Jamaica. It was near there that we spotted the first war ship. The Spaniards were dependent on the direction and strength of the wind, so we had 161

an advantage, in that we could outmaneuver them. As they bore down on us, we attempted to get to windward, but were unsuccessful. Three of our sailors were hit by a barrage from the ship’s guns as she passed.”

Teach looked off to the woods, somber and thoughtful. “We

shot back and managed to wound several of the sailors. With no

one at the helm, their ship rounded into the wind and lay helpless. We continued to shoot every man who attempted to take the

rudder and targeted their sails until they were shredded.”

Teach paused in his story to catch a breath. Glancing again

at Anne, he noted the rapt attention she gave him, clearly fascinated and aghast by his account.

“What happened next?” she asked.

Teach frowned. “The Spaniards continued to fire, and our

captain took two shots to the chest. It was at that moment

that I noticed two powder kegs on the deck of the other ship.

Knowing it was our only chance of survival, I ordered our

helmsmen to bring us closer. The Spanish captain commanded

everyone to hit the deck, and I took a shot. It wasn’t enough

to destroy their ship, but it gave us the distraction we needed

to escape.” Teach remembered with vivid clarity the sights and

sounds of the men as some of the Spaniards had caught fire

when the keg had exploded. He could still hear their cries as