Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)(79)

An icy calm overcame her, and she sat back. “All right. I’ll go.”

Drummond smiled, clearly pleased, but Teach was motionless.

“But I would like the money my father left me to be transferred to an account with my name.”

A muscle worked in Teach’s jaw, but Drummond nodded. “Of

course. When you turn eighteen—”

Anne was sure they could hear the pounding of her heart.





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“No, not when I turn eighteen. I would like the money now.”

“But that’s not possible,” Drummond said.

“Then I request that you make it possible. I will attend

the party. All that I ask in return is that you do this for me.” It wasn’t as if he needed the money. She did.

Drummond studied her, clearly surprised by her boldness.

For the first time since entering the house, Anne was not

afraid of Richard Drummond. She had nothing left to lose. “I’d like to at least know that I can purchase a small cottage somewhere, sir. I have no desire to inconvenience you any further.”

“All right,” Drummond said, after another moment of

silence. “Given your past experience, I can understand why you make such a demand. I will contact my solicitor to have the

funds transferred to an account in your name. You will have

access to it. I will not stand in your way.”

“But, Father—” Teach began, but Drummond held up his

hand.

“No, Edward. The girl is right. It’s the least I can do, to help her on her way.”

Anne gave a small nod, her pent-up breath threatening to

explode. “Thank you, sir. Now, if you will excuse me, I find I’m not as hungry as I first thought,” she said, coming to her feet.

Drummond waved her away. “Yes, you may go.” Teach

looked as if to follow suit, clearly intent on chasing after her, but Drummond wasn’t finished. “I ask that you stay, Edward,”

he said. “We still have things to discuss.”





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Anne shot Drummond a grateful look, aware of the blaze burning in Teach’s eyes. Now was a good time to make her escape.

As she closed the door behind her, Anne could still feel the

heat of Teach’s gaze on her back.

Two hours later he found her in the library.

Teach entered, and then used his foot to close the door

behind him. Anne stood abruptly, the book in her hands dropping to the floor. If she’d wished to avoid him, she could have gone into town, or retired to her room, but she had decided it was time to stop running.

“Why did you do it?” he demanded.

Anne thrust out her small chin. “You know why.”

A swallow rippled visibly down his throat, and he ran a

hand through his already disheveled hair. This was a new ver—

sion of Teach, one she’d never seen before. He reminded her

of a caged animal, and it pained her to think she was partly

responsible for it.

“How can you stand there so calmly?” he asked, his voice

rough.

If he only knew. Her head ached. She’d spent the past two hours trying to convince herself that leaving was the best for everyone concerned, even Teach, although he couldn’t see it at the moment.

Now that her funds were secured, she hoped to find a place





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where she belonged. She would see firsthand the places her mother had told her about in the West Indies. It was both excit-ing and terrifying at the same time.

But without Teach at her side, her plans felt somehow empty

and hollow, as if she would leave a piece of herself behind.

“My father and Lord Hervey have gone to toast my father’s

acceptance into the aristocracy. Strangely enough, they didn’t ask me to join them.”

“I know.” She’d heard them leave.

“And my future bride has gone to pick up her dress for

William’s ball this weekend.” There was no disguising the bitterness in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Are you?”

“Of course. I don’t wish to see you suffer. I like to think of you as my friend.”

Teach moved forward, and then was standing so close to

Anne, she could feel his body heat, even though they were not

touching. “We’re more than just friends. You know that.”

She shook her head, her eyes fixed on the floor. “I’m afraid

we shall never be more than friends as long as I’m frightened.”

“You once told me I didn’t frighten you.”

“Perhaps it’s not you I’m afraid of.”

Teach reached out and caressed her cheek with his finger.

“Please,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.

“Whether you acknowledge it or not, Anne, we belong





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together. We could be on opposite sides of the world, but you would still be mine, as I am yours.”

Anne closed her eyes. Deep down she knew he was right.

Fighting for composure, she moved toward the desk and began