Blackhearts (Blackhearts, #1)(90)

Anne walked across the quarterdeck, down the steps, and

through the long hallway into the captain’s cabin.

She twisted her hands in the folds of her dress. “You know,

before you arrived home, I planned to leave on the Deliverance. ”

Teach’s eyebrows rose. “Did you?”

She nodded, blushing. “Yes. Looking back, I realize how

foolish I was. I had planned to steal away, or else pay someone to let me on board.”

Teach smiled. “Not so foolish. I planned to be captain.”

“Did you?” Anne asked.

“Yes. My father doesn’t like to hear me say it. Even if everything hadn’t worked out in our favor, I had no intention of

marrying Miss Patience. I had no idea how to approach the

subject with him, but I was determined to be on board when

the Deliverance left port.”

“If our plans had worked, we would have been together

anyway,” Anne said.

Teach took her hand in his. “Always.”

Now it was Anne’s turn to smile.





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C H A P T E R 3 2

Anne

“I’m sorry, but I have no desire to return to the city,” Anne said.

It was late afternoon two days after their visit to the Deliverance, and her breath came out in soft puffs of white. Her fingertips were numb.

She and Teach had gone for another walk in the garden, the

grass beneath their feet long dormant. The limbs of the bushes and trees appeared lifeless, suspended in their frozen states.

“Are you sure?” Teach asked.

“Quite sure, but thank you,” she said. It was time to return

the last remaining items to the house. For the past few days she’d risen early and gone to the two willows, hid the stolen silverware in her skirts and cloak, and returned them to their original places when no one was looking. Only a small number of objects remained, as well as all of the coins she’d collected. She’d decided to give the money to Elizabeth and her family, as well as to Sara.





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“It won’t take me long. I promise to return soon,” Teach said.

“You can’t go into the city like that,” Anne protested.

“Like what?”

She eyed the dark scruff on his chin. “You look like a pirate.

Has your father seen you?”

“No, my father is too concerned with his ship at the moment,

and I have had more important things to do in the morning than to bother about my appearance.”

“Oh, really? And what was so important?”

“Coming to see you,” Teach said, pulling her toward the

shadow of the garden wall.

“We live under the same roof. You see me every day,” Anne

pointed out.

“Trust me, I’m well aware of that fact.” His arms wrapped

around her, and his mouth covered hers.

Anne felt a surging tide of warmth that left her breathless,

and she kissed him back.

Eventually he lifted his head, his eyes bright. “When I

return, perhaps we can go for a ride. Is that all right with you?”

Anne managed to nod.

“Good.” After one last lingering kiss, Teach turned and

strode toward the waiting carriage.

As it pulled away, Anne paused, an uncomfortable feeling settling inside her. The sooner she completed this task,

the sooner she could relax. There would be no more secrets

between them, and Anne could begin her new life with Teach,





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for she could not imagine spending it with anyone else.

Glancing back at the house, she paused and scanned the

windows. She couldn’t help feeling as if someone were watching her, but there were no movements anywhere.

She was being ridiculous. It was her guilt that made her

feel this way, for surely she was the only one foolish enough to remain out in this cold.

Shivering, Anne ducked beneath the archway and entered

the wilder realm outside the Drummond grounds. With brisk

steps she approached the willows, grateful to put this part of her time in the Drummond house behind her.

As Anne swiped aside the long branches, her heart stopped

at what she saw—or, more important, her heart stopped at

what she didn’t see.

The chest was gone.

Rushing forward, she looked around the base of the two

trees and at the surrounding ground, but the chest was not there.

“Is something wrong?”

Anne spun to find Margery standing several feet away, a

flicker of triumph lighting her cold eyes.

The buzzing in Anne’s ears started low but grew sharper,

more piercing. “No, I . . . I just needed some fresh air.”

Margery smiled. “Aye, you often seem to require quite a bit

of fresh air, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your early morning walks. You enjoy rising early, before





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the rest of the house. You were never that industrious as a maid.”

“What do you want?” Anne asked, wishing she felt as fear—