In the Tudor Court Collection. Amanda McCabe

‘Go in, Madonna. I shall see you in the morning.’

      Maribel inclined her head, turning reluctantly towards the house. She shivered, feeling suddenly cool despite the heat. Captain Hendry had looked at her so oddly. She wished that he had not returned. He had brought the information Justin needed to find her mother’s family but something in the way he looked at her had made her uneasy.

      She had a feeling that something special might have happened with Justin had Hendry not arrived at just that moment. The barriers had come down between them and she had been on the verge of confessing that she was ready to be what everyone on the island already thought her—Sylvester’s woman.

      ‘Captain Sylvester asks that you forgive him,’ Anna said the next morning. ‘He has had to postpone the trip to the other side of the island, because he has business with Captain Hendry.’

      ‘Oh…’ Maribel’s disappointment swathed through her. She had been looking forward to the pleasure trip and for a moment the day seemed long and empty, then an idea occurred to her and she smiled. ‘I am going to clear some of the undergrowth behind the house. Captain Sylvester told me that he wants to create a fruit garden there, but has not yet found the time.’

      Anna looked at her doubtfully. ‘Do you know how hard that will be, señora? Your hands have never done hard work like that and they will blister.’

      ‘I shall wear gloves,’ Maribel said, determined not to give up her idea. ‘Captain Sylvester has done much for me. I want to do this to thank him for his care of us, Anna.’

      ‘If you must…’ Anna sighed. ‘I suppose I must help you.’

      Maribel smiled at her. ‘We can work together as friends, but I am not ordering you to help me, Anna. We shall clear more ground if we work together, but if you have something else to do I can manage alone.’

      Anna gave her a look of grudging admiration. ‘I would never have thought you could change so much, señora. You would not have dreamed of getting your hands dirty once.’

      ‘I was another person then,’ Maribel told her. ‘I have been changing little by little, though at first I fought it—now I want to discover for myself what it is like to work hard.’

      ‘We must begin by chopping down the grass and weeds, then we can make a start on the digging…’

      Maribel’s back ached and she was soaked in sweat when they decided that they had done enough for one day. A patch large enough to plant vegetables and soft fruits had been cleared at the back of the house and they had begun to dig a small part of it. The work had been even harder than Anna had warned, but Maribel was filled with a sense of pride as she looked at the results of their labour.

      ‘I think we have made a good start,’ she said to Anna as they walked back towards the house. ‘I am thirsty and dirty. I must wash away the sweat and change my gown before we begin to make a meal for this evening.’

      ‘You have done enough for one day. Let me bring water for you. You must be weary.’

      ‘No, I am not tired,’ Maribel said and smiled. ‘My back does ache and I think I may be stiff tomorrow, but I feel so alive. I have enjoyed working with you in the sunshine. I feel as if I have done something useful for perhaps the first time in my life.’

      ‘You used to have such soft hands and your needlework was so fine,’ Anna said. ‘Even Donna Juanita said how lovely your work was—do you not remember?’

      ‘Yes…’ Maribel sighed. ‘The girl who sewed pretty cushions was a different person, Anna. That world seems so far away. I have become someone different—a woman with a heart and mind of her own.’

      Anna looked at her and nodded. ‘Why do you not tell him how you feel? I have seen a look in your eyes.’

      ‘I am not sure that he would care. I know that he desires me, but I cannot speak first.’

      ‘You must forget your pride,’ Anna told her. ‘You must decide if you want to stay here with us.’

      ‘I am not sure.’ Maribel’s throat caught with emotion. ‘I would stay, but only if…’

      She would stay if Justin loved her, but she knew that he still loved the woman he had once wished to marry, despite what he had said about moving on. She could have him for a while, but in the end he would tire of her and then she would be alone.

      Maribel enjoyed the feel of the cool water on her skin. She had been so very sweaty and her hair had collected bits of twig and dirt. Anna had helped her to wash it in the yard, and now she was stripped of her clothes in her room, the shutters closed for privacy. She washed in the water she had brought into the house herself, drying her skin and pulling on a shift to cover her body. Her hair was still wet and she sat down on the edge of the bed to rub it dry on a towel, singing a little song that Juanita had sung to her when she was small. She looked up as the door opened, expecting to see Anna, but was shocked to see Justin standing on the threshold. For a moment he stared at her without saying anything, but she saw the pulse at his throat and the way his eyes fastened on her and became aware that her body was clearly outlined through the thin shift. Her nipples had peaked with the instant response of her body to his presence, aching with the need to be touched and caressed.

      ‘Forgive me. I heard voices and thought Anna was with you.’

      ‘I was singing.’ Maribel reached for a silken wrap and drew it on over her shift. His eyes seemed to burn into her, making her breath catch in her throat. ‘Did you want something?’

      ‘The garden behind the house…who did all that work?’ he asked, but his breathing was ragged, his voice hoarse. He looked at her like a man dying of thirst when he sees the oasis for the first time, his need writ plain on his face. ‘Anna? Or Higgins?’

      ‘Anna and I did it together. You said you had not had time and I wanted to thank you for—’

      ‘Foolish woman!’ Justin strode towards her. ‘Show me your hands.’ Maribel held them out and heard his indrawn breath as he saw the red welts across the palms. ‘You should not have done such heavy work. Your hands will be sore in the morning.’

      ‘I enjoyed it,’ she replied. ‘I shall rub some salve into them. Anna always packs some into my trunks…’ She gasped as he caught her hand and carried it to his lips, licking at the redness in a way that made desire shoot through her. ‘Justin…’

      ‘Sometimes saliva will help,’ he said huskily, but as her eyes met his he groaned and reached out, drawing her close. ‘You were made for love, not hard physical work…’

      For a moment she melted into his body, wanting his kiss to go on and on, wanting so much more that she could not name. Yet even as his hands held her closer so that she could feel the heat of his manhood pressing against her through the thin robe, she felt tears rise up to choke her. He said that she was made for love, but he did not love her—he only wanted her. As he gathered her up in his arms, her mind refused to work properly. She wanted him to kiss and touch her, to make love to her, but she knew that she might lose everything.

      Justin placed her carefully amongst the sheets, bending over her to kiss her throat at the little hollow at the base. His hand moved aside her robe, exposing the open neck of her shift. He bent to kiss her, slipping his hand inside her shift to caress her breasts. His thumb caressed her nipple, making her gasp and tremble, her body arching towards his despite her fears.

      ‘You are very beautiful, Maribel, and I have wanted this for a long time. Deny me now if you will, for I can no longer deny myself.’ He raised his head to look down at her and then reached out to brush away the tear on her cheek. ‘Crying? Have I mistaken the case? Last night in the moonlight I thought…but I see I was wrong. You do not want this, do you?’

      Maribel could not answer, nor could she control the tears. She felt them slide helplessly down her face, staring up at him wordlessly. How could she tell him that she loved him, wanted to be his woman, when she knew he did not love her?