Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)(8)

do things no lady of noble breeding should agree to.

But at the moment he was exhausted and wished for nothing more than to soak in the tub and rid himself of weeks of

filth and grime. As much as he loved being at sea, there were

benefits to coming ashore. “Can you not write and ask them to

come tomorrow?”

His father snorted. “They are already on their way and

should be here within the hour. You’ve known about this for

quite some time, Edward. Why do you insist on provoking me?”

“I do not control the skies, Father. You cannot blame me for

weather postponing my return,” he protested.

“I blame you, because you insisted on this foolishness in the





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first place. What did you hope to learn by spending a year at sea? Nothing has changed since you’ve been gone.”

“Everything has changed! When will you realize I am no

longer a boy and start treating me like a man?”

“When you behave like one,” was the cold response.

“How can I behave like one when you’re still making my

decisions for me? It’s time you allowed me to determine my

own fate, Father.” Although Drummond didn’t know it, Teach

planned to be aboard the Deliverance when it set sail, with or without his father’s consent.

Drummond drew himself up to his full height, forgetting

that his son had surpassed him long ago. “What nonsense.

The baron and I have discussed this at length, and even Miss

Patience is in agreement. The sooner the two of you are wed,

the better it will be, for everyone involved.” Not waiting on his son’s response, he turned on his heel and strode away.

Left alone in the hallway, Teach watched his father’s back,

resentment boiling within. He should have known it would

be like this. His father had always pushed him to be more

mature than his friends. Perhaps that was why Teach had always

enjoyed William’s company. Although he carried the title of an

earl, William acted every bit like the eighteen-year-old he was, and his father, the duke, did not seem to object.

Richard Drummond did. He claimed he wanted only the

best for his son, and no child of his would work on a merchant

ship. He’d eventually agreed to let Teach try it out for a year, 2 7

thinking it would rid Teach of his “unhealthy obsession” with the sea.

But his father’s plan had backfired.

Teach was more determined than ever to set sail once more.

The boy looked longingly out the window at the swirling gray

sky, wishing for the hundredth time that the storm had postponed his return for at least one more day.





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C H A P T E R 4

Anne

Downstairs in the kitchen Anne was having the same thoughts,

but for entirely different reasons. Anne pulled up sharply at the look on Margery’s face, her heart pounding in her chest.

“They’re here! They’re here! The baron and his family are

here. Quick, make sure Sara and Mary have the chambers ready.

No, wait, have you added the shrimp yet? The water is boiling.”

Margery turned in a circle, wringing her hands in her apron, her limp more pronounced than ever. “No, no. First I need you to check the pheasants. Oh, we should have venison. The master

wanted— Stop! What in the world happened to your dress? You

were supposed to set a bath for the master’s son, not take a dip in it yourself.”

Margery’s mouth continued to run, and Anne had a hard time

concentrating. Anxious, she constantly checked over her shoulder, convinced the young Mr. Edward would come charging after her.





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It took considerable effort on her part to focus on the tasks at hand. Her movements were jerky as she took the birds from the spit. She nearly dropped them, and burned her thumbs in

the process. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she dunked her seared flesh into a bucket of water near the door.

The chaos surrounding her matched her insides, and it was

all she could do not to run from the house.

He was here. The ragged sailor whom she’d hoped never to

see again had reappeared, to live in this very house.

He was the master’s son.

And he was angry.

How long could she hide from him? How long would it be

before he exacted his revenge?

The next hour was torture, as Anne was forced to listen

to Sara’s and Mary’s constant chatter with a combination of

pity, fear, and disgust. They went on and on about how they

wished they were a baron’s daughter and how they’d heard that

the young master had come downstairs to await dinner, looking

very sharp, and what a fine pair he and Miss Patience would

make, as they were both so handsome.

By the time the platters of food stood ready and waiting,

Anne’s head pounded. Margery had already spoken with the

master about the meal. While he wasn’t pleased, Margery said

he hadn’t said much else, occupied as he was by his houseful of