Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)(51)

William rubbed his hands together, a gleeful look on his

face. “Oh, what do you propose we do? Are we going to break

into someone’s vault? Or do you prefer something less dramatic,

like stealing their sheep? I’ve missed you this past year, Teach.

My life has been deadly boring without you.”

“I highly doubt that. You are quite capable of creating your

own entertainment,” Teach said, turning his back on his friend

and heading for the door.

“I’m here when you need me,” William called after him.

“Just say the word.”

“I’ll remember that.” Teach appreciated his friend’s loy—

alty, even though he didn’t know what their actions would

entail. Teach himself was unsure. It all depended on his conversation with his father. If he found out Henry Barrett was





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indeed responsible for Anne’s position in his father’s household, he would make sure Barrett never stepped foot in his house again.

Upstairs the hallway was dim as Teach walked in the

direction of the guest wing. He knew exactly in which room

his father slept, for the man was a creature of habit. In fact,

Drummond didn’t like anything over which he had no control. Teach would have to proceed with caution if he wanted

to find out as much as he could about Henry Barrett and

Anne.

After knocking on the third door on his left, he waited,

looking down the dark-paneled walls stretching away in the

gloom. His father’s voice called for him to enter.

“There you are,” Drummond said from the large armchair

positioned near one of the windows. Still dressed in his shirt

and breeches, he held a book in his hands. A tall candelabra

stood sentinel beside him, giving the room a warm glow. “I

heard you arrive.”

Teach closed the door behind him. “Yes, sir. Miss Patience

wished to see me first—”

“As she should. I was beginning to wonder if we would be

planning your funeral instead of your wedding. I was most concerned.”

Teach nearly laughed out loud. If his father had been so

concerned, why had he left with the Herveys instead of stay—

ing behind to help him? “Never fear. I have fully recovered.”





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He took a few tentative steps forward, disliking how his father always managed to make him feel like a disobedient schoolboy.

“You had a visitor while you were gone.”

“Oh?”

Teach nodded. “Yes. Henry Barrett.”

Drummond’s eyebrows drew together. “What did he want?”

“He said he had some business with you,” Teach said, unsure

if this was the best way to introduce the topic. Should he ask his father outright if he knew Anne was Andrew Barrett’s daughter?

If Teach did, his father wouldn’t take kindly to having his

actions questioned by his son. On the other hand, if Drummond

didn’t know, he would be upset to think that someone had deceived him. Either way, Teach had to tread carefully.

“Did he?” his father asked, his frown deepening.

“Yes. He made it sound as though the two of you were in

the habit of discussing business matters. Does he have anything

to do with the Deliverance?”

Drummond snapped his book shut. “Hardly. I haven’t had

or wanted anything to do with him since he showed up five

months ago with that girl.”

Teach’s nerves prickled with awareness. “What girl?” he asked.

His father stood and walked toward the night table. “One

of the kitchen maids.”

It wasn’t a surprise that his father didn’t know Anne’s name.

He never showed any interest in his hired help. Even Margery,

who’d worked for him for years, was still a relative stranger.





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“You mean Anne?” Teach asked, his stomach clenching.

Drummond stretched, rolling his neck from side to side.

“Hmm? Yes, yes, I believe that’s her name. Several months after

his father’s death, he came and said she had worked in his house, but he had enough kitchen staff and wondered if she couldn’t come and work for me.”

“Did he give a reason why?”

His father’s face was thoughtful. “Andrew had had a cook,

a woman by the name of Jacqueline. Your mother and I were

quite fond of her cooking. When your mother was ill, Jacqueline sent soups and salves to help ease her discomfort. Normally I would never hire an islander, but Henry obviously knew I would take in anyone who had learned at the hands of that

woman.”

Teach struggled to keep his expression neutral, shamed and

angered by his father’s obvious prejudice. “Did he mention anything else about Anne? Her surname, perhaps?”

“Good heavens, no. Why would I need to know that? I

don’t make it a habit to learn everything about the help. I suggest you don’t either.”