In the Tudor Court Collection. Amanda McCabe

tipping it into the barrel, which would be loaded on to the ship with others for their journey. She had made her dislike of him plain enough, but she had not shirked from the job he had given her, even though she must find it hard after the life she had led.

      He frowned as he wondered just what kind of life she had led as Don Sabatini’s daughter. Everything he knew of the man had led him to feel nothing but disgust and anger, but the girl was different. Yes, she was proud and arrogant, but anyone might react that way when taken captive by pirates. No doubt she had feared for her life or worse at the start, and indeed if it had been one of the other pirate vessels that roamed the seas in search of ships to prey on she might have fared much worse. Had Corsairs taken the ship she could have been sold as a slave in the markets of Algiers.

      She was proud and spoiled, and at first he had thought she might in truth be her father’s daughter and not to be trusted, but he had realised almost at once that she was innocent. Indeed, had he not known she had been widowed, he would have thought her still an untouched girl.

      Her beauty stirred his senses, and had he been another kind of man he would have taken her when she defied him in her cabin, but her courage in defying him had amused him. She was Sabatini’s daughter and as such could mean nothing to him save for the ransom she would bring, but there was something about her that made him smile.

      Maribel’s teeth sank into the soft meat of the suckling pig that had been slow roasted over a fire for hours. It was very strange, but she had never eaten anything quite as delicious. At first she had been inclined to refuse such fare when the succulent thigh was offered her, but the smell was so good and she was hungry after her work.

      She wiped the grease from her mouth, then hesitated before rubbing it into her hands. The water buckets had been heavy and her hands felt sore from carrying them from the well to the barrels that the men had then transported to the ship; the grease would act like a salve and ease the stiffness.

      The owner of the hacienda had come to greet them. He seemed on friendly terms with Captain Sylvester and more than ready to supply them with all the food they needed for their journey. It was he and his wife who had supplied the feast they had just eaten. Maribel wondered if he might know of her stepmother’s relatives.

      Getting up from the bench where she had sat to eat her meal, she wandered over to where the farmer’s wife was ladling soup into wooden bowls.

      ‘Good evening, señora.’

      ‘Would you care for some wine, Donna Maribel?’

      ‘Thank you, but I have eaten well of your suckling pig. I was wondering if you might know some friends of mine who live on the island?’

      ‘I know everyone who lives on Mallorca, lady.’

      ‘Would you know the family of Donna Juanita Sabatini? Her family name is Mendoza.’

      ‘I knew Donna Juanita, a lovely lady.’ The woman smiled at her. ‘I worked for her family as a young woman. There is only an elderly cousin left now and he lives alone.’

      ‘Where can I find him?’

      ‘At the other side of the island, a journey of some hours on foot—but I would not go there if I were you.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘He is a peculiar, lonely man. He might not welcome strangers.’

      ‘Juanita was very dear to me…’ Maribel hesitated. ‘Could I borrow a horse from your stable? I would return it.’

      ‘You will have to ask my husband, lady. Perhaps if Captain Sylvester stood surety for you…’

      Maribel hesitated. It seemed these people trusted her captor, but not her. She might have to make her journey on foot—and she could not be sure of a welcome. She had hoped that Juanita might have a sister or female cousin, but when she thought it over, her stepmother had never talked of her family.

      It was a risk, but one she must take. She could not go with the pirates to Cyprus and she would not return to her father to be sent to England like a package he had sold.

      One thing the pirate captain had done for her was to make her question her father’s motives. It seemed that there might be more behind his determination to marry her to an English lord than met the eye—but surely Juanita’s cousin would help her? She would pay him once she had control of the fortune left to her by her husband.

      Surely someone somewhere would be willing to help her?

      The crew had been drinking and singing for a long time. They were obviously enjoying their time on shore, but at last they had quietened. She believed that most were asleep now.

      Maribel sat up and looked about her. She could see no sign of movement. It seemed that the pirates felt secure enough not to set a guard. She reached out and shook Anna’s shoulder. The woman snorted and grunted, but would not wake.

      ‘Anna!’ Maribel whispered, bending close to her ear. ‘It is time for us to leave!’

      Anna snored on, giving no sign that she had heard. Maribel hesitated. If she shouted at the girl, someone else might wake. Perhaps it was best to leave her and go alone. Beneath Maribel’s gown was concealed a pouch containing all the gold and jewellery she possessed; her clothes and other valuables remained on board the pirate ship, but she must leave them behind if she wanted to escape. She could only pray that Juanita’s cousin would be prepared to take her in and help her recover her fortune. If he would not…

      Maribel was not certain what she would do then. She only knew that she did not want to remain as the pirate’s captive, nor did she wish to return home.

      Anna could stay where she was; it seemed she was happy enough under the pirate’s rule. Maribel stood up, taking her blanket with her. It was cooler now, though during the day it would be hot. The blanket would keep her warm and if she had to spend more than one day in the open she would have something to lie on at night.

      She deliberately put the farmer’s wife’s warning from her mind. Juanita’s cousin would surely help her. Why should he not?

      Creeping from the campsite, Maribel slipped away into the trees that fringed the beach. She had only a vague idea of where to find Juanita’s family, but she could ask someone. The people at the hacienda had been friendly and she had money to ease her way.

      She had been walking for only a few minutes when she heard a twig snap behind her. Her heart beating wildly, she turned but could not see anything.

      ‘Who is it?’

      No answer came. Maribel took a deep breath and walked on. She began to climb the ridge that led away from the beach. She could hear rustling sounds behind her and her pulses raced. It must be some kind of animal. Perhaps a pig turned loose in the woods to forage…

      Suddenly, the noise came from a different direction. Spinning round, she saw a man’s figure through the trees and caught her breath.

      ‘I thought it was you. Where do you think you are going?’

      Maribel hesitated. He had followed her! She might have known that escape would not be as easy as it seemed!

      ‘I needed to relieve myself.’

      ‘So far from the camp? Why did you bring a blanket with you? Are you sure you were not trying to escape?’

      ‘Why should I? Where could I go?’

      ‘To the house of Don Vittorio Mendoza, perhaps?’

      ‘She told you…’ The farmer’s wife had betrayed her!

      ‘Señora Gonzales told her husband and he told me. He warned me that I should not let you go there for Mendoza is not a good man—he is bitter and lives alone since his family died of a fever.’

      ‘He is the only one I can turn to. He will help me because of Juanita.’ Tears stung her eyes. ‘You must let me go. You must…’

      His manner was stern. ‘I have given my