The White House

By Meredith Stoddard

Legend has it that Blackbeard frequented an inn in Beaufort, North Carolina that was called The White House. This story is based on one fateful visit that the town still talks about today. Annie Simpson is a Scottish lass on her way to the colonies as an indentured servant until her ship is attacked by Blackbeard's crew. Israel Hands is Blackbeard's second in command who is questioning his commitment to pirate life. Lizzie Poole is a lonely innkeeper's daughter who longs for a secure home all her own. As their worlds collide they explore the timeless dynamics of power.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Meredith Stoddard
• Release date: Nov 17, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466181694

Meredith Stoddard

Meredith R. Stoddard is a writer and fiber artist living in Central VA. She studied literature and folklore at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill before working as a corporate trainer and instructional designer for 11 years. She now devotes her energy to fiction and creative non-fiction. When her hands are not holding a book or touching a keyboard they are likely knitting, spinning or felting. You can follow her adventures in fiction and fiber on her website.

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The White House

Meredith R. Stoddard

Copyright 2011 Meredith R. Stoddard

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Teach dealt her a smack that sent her sprawling to the floor. Israel fisted his hands at his side, fighting the urge to help her. He knew better than to get in the captain’s way. She had managed well enough up to this point. She peered up through the mess of chestnut curls, blood trailing from her lip and pinned the captain with a glare.

Ye’ll not be takin’ me into that house as yer whore. She pulled her feet under her and raised herself shakily. Her voice was hard as granite. Ye’ll marry me now or kill me where Ah stand.

The captain, eyed her as if she were an errant crewman seconds away from the lash. Then he said through his teeth. Take care what choices you give me, Annie. I’ve killed for less.

Aye. She pulled herself up to her full height, and thrust out her chin. But ye’d never’ve lost more.

I’ve eight wives living already. I don’t need or want another. To Israel’s astonishment the captain sounded peevish.

Then ye dinna need what Ah have t’offer. Ye might as well finish it right now. She bared her throat daring him to kill her.

Israel studied the girl, looking quite different from the day they’d found her. They had captured a sloop bound for Jamestown carrying men and women for indenture. Teach had strolled onto the deck as usual with firebrands under his cap and ribbons in his beard, a costume that he used to strike fear into the crews of the ships they took. The sloop’s crew and passengers cowered behind barrels. Some of the women swooned, but not Annie. She stood there filthy, painfully thin and alone in a sea of cowards.

Teach had been visibly shocked. He stood before her studying the strange creature, the only person in years who hadn’t fallen at his feet in fear. Then he bellowed Is she secure Mr. Hands?

Aye, sir.

The girl had not flinched at his booming voice. She simply stood there. He stared a moment more at the sharp blue eyes that defiantly stared back. Her eyes were the only thing about here that wasn’t brown. Her dress may have started another color, but by then it had become tattered and stained the color of dung. Every visible inch of her skin was smudged with dirt and her hair hung in matted clumps. Glancing around,