Teach
“It’s over,” Drummond said, holding a glass of brandy in his hand. He sat in an armchair and gazed up at the ceiling.
Teach’s heart gave a lurch. “What’s over?”
“The charges against you have been dropped.”
For a moment Teach was too shocked to respond.
“You will not be hanged for piracy,” his father said, giving him an expectant look.
All the tension Teach had kept so tightly constrained was released in a long sigh of audible relief. “How? How did you do it?” he asked.
“My solicitor and I consulted, and I simply explained that you had been aboard one of Andrew Barrett’s ships. You could not possibly have committed those crimes. I prepared a list of character witnesses for you, which took some time, but in the end that wasn’t necessary.”
“And the constable believed you?”
“He was interested in justice being served,” was his father’s curt reply.
“What kind of evidence did they have against me?”
“The constable didn’t say. Nor did he say who had brought the charges against you. But no matter. It’s over.”
Warmth radiated throughout Teach’s limbs, and he smiled, knowing that his death sentence had been lifted. He understood the unspoken part of his father’s comments. Constables were unpaid volunteers, and Drummond’s pockets were deep. He’d said he would do whatever it took to see the charges dropped, but Teach hadn’t been sure whether his father would have been willing to pay the constable, or if the constable was even the kind of person willing to take a bribe.
But there was no doubt in Teach’s mind that that was what had happened.
“I . . . I don’t quite know what to say, except . . . thank you. Thank you, Father.”
Drummond waved his hand, looking ill at ease from Teach’s gratitude. Teach knew better than to embrace him. It would only make him more uncomfortable.
“It’s in the past. Don’t give it another thought.”
Within twenty-four hours his father had been able to avert disaster. It seemed there was truly nothing his father could not do.
“And now there is nothing to stop you from marrying Miss Patience.”
Any feelings of euphoria were suffocated by his father’s statement.
“Did you hear me, Edward?”
“Yes.”
Drummond rose and poured himself another glass of brandy. “Good. Then we will announce your wedding date this weekend at your friend William’s party.”
“But we haven’t settled on a date.”
“Which is precisely why I asked Miss Patience and the baron to come here. I understand they arrived early.”
“They did.”
“I should have been here to greet them.” His tone implied it was yet another grievance against Teach. Sitting down, Drummond pinched the bridge of his nose, a sure sign that the conversation was over. But Teach wasn’t willing to end it just yet.
“Father, I don’t want to set a date for the wedding.”
Lowering his hand with exaggerated deliberateness, Drummond pinned Teach with a glare. “What did you say?”
Teach refused to back down. “I don’t want to set a date for the wedding. There’s no need to rush.”
“There is also no reason to wait.”
“Yes, there is. I told Miss Patience about the charges.”
“You should have waited for me to return. I had planned to tell Lord Hervey myself, once your name was cleared.”
“Don’t you think he might change his mind now?”
“The baron is not in a position to change his mind. He is on the brink of financial ruin.”
“But I just arrived home.”
“Yes, from a year at sea that very nearly cost you your life. Do you have any idea what I did for you today?” his father demanded, his voice rising with each word.
“Yes, and I’ve already told you that I’m thankful, I truly am. But I think it would be best to wait. My feelings for Patience have changed. She is no longer the girl I wish to spend my life with, and I am quite sure she feels the same about me. If you forced us to marry, we would both be miserable.”
“That is not your decision to make.”
“How can you say that? It’s my life we’re discussing, not yours.”
“And you have proven that you are incapable of making good decisions.”
Turning from his father, Teach caught sight of the portrait hanging above the fireplace, his mother’s kind eyes smiling down on him. “If mother were alive, she would let me make them. Why can’t you?”
The air seemed to escape his father’s lungs at the mention of his wife. “I will not argue with you. Not now. I am too tired for this. We will continue this conversation after I have rested. I do not wish to be disturbed until supper this evening. Please instruct Margery that I would like my tea to be delivered to my room and left by the door.” He headed in the direction of his dressing room, his weary footsteps echoing in the chamber.
Clutching the back of the chair in his hands, Teach barely managed to stifle his shout of aggravation. He knew very well that his father would not discuss it with him further. If Drummond was to rest until the evening meal, Teach would have no opportunity to speak with him privately. It was as if the older Teach became, the more Drummond tightened the noose.
If only they had a few days, Drummond might have time to mull over what Teach had said. Then they could speak reasonably, just like they had when Teach had convinced his father to let him sail on Andrew Barrett’s ship.
After closing the door to his father’s bedchamber soundly behind him, Teach headed down the stairs. His heartbeat roared in his ears as he struggled to understand how he had so completely lost control of his life, and when he would get it back.
Anne, unaware of his presence in the doorway of the library, sat in a chair with a book in her lap. She stared out at the rain as it continued to fall. A log broke in the fireplace, and part of it fell from the grate, sending a plume of white sparks into the air.
Teach paused, watching her until she turned. Setting the book aside, she stood and took several quick steps forward. Teach met her in the center of the room. Before he could say anything, she smiled.
“I heard. I’m sorry, but I stood outside your father’s door for a moment and listened.” Anne reached for one of his hands, and her fingers warmed the chill in his. “I heard him say it was over.”
Teach looked down at their clasped hands. “Yes. It’s over.” Glancing up, he saw her smile fade.
“What’s wrong? What else did he say?”
Teach’s only reply was grim silence. It was clear she hadn’t listened for long.
Anne stumbled back a step, her skirts rustling. She gave a slight shake of her head, her brows furrowed as she looked about the room. “I should go.”
“Do you wish to retire? I’ll escort you to your—”
“No. I must leave England. At once.”
Pain unfolded in Teach’s chest. “You can’t leave. I won’t let you.”
“Once I have the three thousand my father left me, you won’t be able stop me. I will not stand idly by and watch you marry her. If I can leave before that happens, I will.”
He knew it would do him no good to argue with her, but he couldn’t help himself. She was his only source of pleasure at the moment, and it frightened him how much he depended on her to achieve his happiness. “Don’t do it, Anne.”
Their gazes caught and held. Her blue eyes, usually so bright, were now bleak.
“Don’t do anything rash,” he said.
“I have no other choice.”
“Yes, you do. Come away with me. I’m no longer a wanted man. We could leave, just the two of us.”
“And then what? I won’t be a kept woman like my mother was. And where could we possibly go where people won’t look at me and immediately assume that’s what I am? Or worse.”
“Marry me, then. We’ll leave England and find a place. We’ll make a place.” Teach watched her intently, hoping for a sign of consent. But she took another step back, her shoulders straight, her lips set.
“You might want to leave now, but in time you would come to resent me. You would be giving up your inheritance and this lifestyle. I won’t have you blame me for losing everything.”
“I would never resent you. Or blame you. I just spent a year at sea. I’ve seen what it’s like to be without.”
“Yes, but it was an adventure. You always knew you would come back. I’ve experienced what it’s like to truly be without, and I would not wish that on anyone. Least of all you.”
“That’s my choice to make, not yours.”
“I’m sorry,” Anne said. “But when I leave, I will go alone.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
Anne stepped around him, heading for the door.
Desperation caused his voice to rise. “I’ll tell my father about us. I’ll tell him I wish to marry you.”
She stopped with her hand on the knob and turned, her blue eyes flashing. “If you do that, he will not hesitate to throw me out. He tolerates me now, but if he believed I came between you and Miss Patience, he would not be kind. Or merciful. You should not wish his wrath on anyone. Least of all me.”
Sitting in the darkened captain’s cabin of the Deliverance, Teach toyed with an open bottle. It had been several hours since he’d left the estate. After the disastrous evening meal, he hadn’t trusted himself to stay under the same roof as the others.
Despite his request, Anne had retired to her room and stayed there. Teach had been forced to share a tense supper with Patience, Lord Hervey, and his father.
“Remind me, if I’m ever in trouble, your father would be a handy one to have in a pinch,” John said.
Teach had told him the outcome of the inquiry.
“Yes, well, my father might have cleared up that problem, but he’s the reason for another, even greater problem. He and Lord Hervey set the date for the wedding. In two weeks, they say I am to wed, the day after the launch of the Deliverance.”
John studied Teach’s expression, a sympathetic look in his eyes. “You fancy her, don’t you?” John said. “This Anne you’ve mentioned. The one who tossed the bucket on me.”
Teach trusted his friend well enough to tell him the truth. “Lord help me, but I do.”
“I could tell. You haven’t stopped talking about her since you arrived.”
Teach took another sip from the bottle.
“And yet your father expects you to marry a fancy peacock with a pea brain.”
Perhaps Teach had been a bit harsh in his criticism of Patience, but she offered little in comparison to Anne. “I can’t do it, John. I can’t go through with it,” Teach muttered. “My father has already lived his life. Mine has just begun, and yet he would sentence me to death, for my every breath shall be stifled if I am forced to spend the rest of my days with that girl.”
It was John’s turn to take a sip from the bottle. “Have you told your father you don’t want to marry Patience?”
“Yes.”
“And what did he say?”
Teach scowled, his anger stirring at the memory. “He said it wasn’t my decision to make.”
John gave a low whistle. “What other options do you have?”
Teach held up the bottle.
“Sorry, mate, but that won’t solve anything.”
Taking a large swig, Teach shrugged. “Perhaps not, but it can make me forget for a while.”
“What does Anne have to say about any of this?”
“What can she say? She’s living in my father’s house, as his guest. How can she go against his wishes?”
“Does she love you?”
“I know she does.”
“Well, then. You’re your father’s son. Let’s see you do something about it.”