Teach
Teach gave instructions to the carriage driver to take them back to the Drummond estate, before sitting back against the plush velvet upholstery inside.
Anne stared down at the papers in her hands. Mr. Cogswell, Andrew Barrett’s solicitor, had handed them over to her, along with the news that Anne was now an heiress.
“What are you thinking?” Teach asked.
She didn’t appear to hear him.
The moment lengthened uncomfortably. “What are you planning?” Teach asked, unable to remain silent.
“What makes you think I’m planning anything?” she asked, not quite meeting his eyes.
“Because I know you. What do you intend to do with the money?” Teach tried to make his voice light, knowing how inappropriate the question was, but there was a sense of urgency behind his words. He truly did want to know what she was thinking. What she was feeling. The lack of emotion on her face was unusual, especially for someone as passionate as she was.
Andrew Barrett had left her a fortune. Three thousand pounds, to be exact. Mr. Cogswell had apologized for not knowing sooner about Anne’s predicament and had confirmed that Henry Barrett had lied to him as well.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” she said after an interminable moment, “but I would take it . . . and . . . travel—”
“You can’t leave! Where would you go? What would you do?”
“I would take the opportunity to start my own life somewhere, find some of my mother’s people—”
Teach laughed out loud, a hint of desperation in his voice. “But you can’t. You can’t leave. You won’t receive the money until you turn eighteen.”
Anne’s own voice rose. “So you mean to tell me I have no choice but to stay here?”
“Would it be so terrible?”
“For someone who doesn’t feel like I truly belong, yes. What do you see when you look at me?” Anne asked.
A myriad of words flowed through his mind at her question. Strength. Intelligence. Beauty. Compassion. “I see you.”
Anne’s expression softened somewhat. “Because you’ve taken the time to speak with me. And to listen. But most people see only how different I am.”
“It doesn’t mean you have to leave.”
Anne caught her lip between her teeth, but made no response.
Her silence frightened him. “Please, Anne. I know I cannot begin to understand how you must feel. I’m sorry you had to go through what you did. I’m sorry Henry Barrett lied to you. If I could, I would kill him with my own hands if I thought it would make a difference. I still might. But right now my father is in charge of—”
Anne held up her hand. “Yes, and you heard Mr. Cogswell. Your father plans to move my inheritance into his account. His account, not mine! As my guardian, he controls my life as much as he controls yours, except I have even fewer liberties than you.”
“But that’s only until you’re eighteen.”
“Which feels like a lifetime away. I must speak with Master Drummond and see if he will release the money sooner.”
“But your own father wanted you to wait.” I want you to wait.
“I refuse to be a burden to anyone. I simply wish to live my life as I choose, to go where I choose. What is so hard to understand?” Anne asked.
“You were born in this country, Anne. You have no idea what life is truly like anywhere else. I’ve been to the islands and have seen the way people live. It’s a hard existence. You can’t go alone. It’s far too dangerous.”
“I want to at least be given the chance.”
The air in the carriage seemed to shrink, charged with oppressed tension. It reminded Teach of an uneasy calm before a storm.
Anne’s breathing wasn’t quite steady, her agitation obvious. “I do not mean to sound ungrateful, but I’m tired of others directing my life. I’m ready to take charge of it and see where my choices lead me.”
Teach sat back, his unease sharpening into something else. He could not argue with Anne, for he was all too familiar with her hopes. How often had he longed to tell his father the exact same thing?
But Teach knew Drummond, better than anyone else, and as much as Teach understood Anne’s feelings, he sincerely hoped that his father would be able to change her mind.