In the Tudor Court Collection. Amanda McCabe

you have been treated so ill.’

      ‘It was not your fault. You warned me not to venture outside at night alone and I ignored your advice.’ She caught back the sob that almost broke her. ‘Forgive me. When we first met, I called you such terrible names and you never treated me ill.’

      ‘You must not cry.’ Justin smiled at her. ‘You are safe now. I shall not let harm come to you again. Very soon now you will be in England with your mother’s family. You will be a lady again, living as you ought—I believe your uncle is a good man.’

      ‘No, I shall not cry,’ Maribel said, blinking back her tears. ‘I am being foolish. I am safe now and, as you say, I shall soon be with my mother’s family.’

      In a few short weeks she would be in England. Perhaps then all the nightmares of the past months would be forgotten. She could return to being the lady she had been before she left Spain for the first time. It was what she had wanted from the start—to be with her mother’s family. So why did she feel that her heart was breaking?

      ‘Captain Sylvester says we are sailing under a fair wind and you may come on deck whenever you wish,’ Anna said as she entered the cabin the next morning. ‘If the weather continues to be good, you will be in England within a week or two.’

      ‘Yes, I expect so.’ Maribel got to her feet. She draped a lace shawl about her shoulders and went on deck. Her gown was one of the lightweight ones that Justin had given her. The heavy, elaborate gowns her father had sent as her trousseau lay unused in the chests in which they had been packed. Maribel preferred the simpler style of gown she had become used to on the island. Her Spanish clothes seemed outdated and ugly and she did not enjoy wearing them, though she might have to when she reached England—she had been told it was much colder than Spain.

      What would her mother’s family be like? Would they welcome her to their home? Justin had given her letters from her uncle to her mother. He spoke in fond terms and asked if she were well many times. It seemed that he had received no answer to his letters, though he had continued to write until her mother’s death.

      She pushed the fears and doubts concerning her relatives to the back of her mind. In a few days she would part from Justin, never to see him again—and it was breaking her heart. She did not want to leave him, nor did she wish to become a fine lady again; all that had changed on the island and she knew she could never be as she had been before her capture. If her mother’s family took her in, she would be forced to live as they directed, behaving as a high-born lady and never knowing the freedom she had tasted on the island. She would never see Justin again. How could she bear it?

      Was there any way she could change her destiny? Maribel’s thoughts had been going round and round in her mind ever since she had been rescued for the second time. She was no longer the proud and sometimes cold lady she had been when she first sailed for England. Her life had changed the day she was taken captive the first time, and her experiences on the island had moulded her into a different woman. The fear and revulsion she had experienced at Captain Hynes’s hands had made her realise how fortunate she had been to be taken captive by a man like Justin. She had called him a pirate, but he was a truly generous and gentle man despite his harsh looks when he was angry. When she had thought she might never see him again she had realised just how much he had come to mean to her. She loved him with all her heart, her mind and body. How could she bear it when the time came to part for ever?

      It was fresh and cooler on deck than it had been in her cabin. Maribel took a turn round the deck, then went to the prow, looking out to sea. The sky was blue and appeared endless. Far away in the distance it seemed to end where the sky met the sea on the horizon; it was this strange phenomenon that had made people believe that the earth was flat until brave explorers began to prove that it was not so. She knew that it was a Spanish King who had funded the expedition that found a way to the West Indies and the New World, proving that the world was round and that it was not possible to fall off the edge.

      Maribel wrinkled her brow. Anna and Higgins had such exciting plans for the future and they were willing to take risks. Was there really a chance of a better life in the New World? She knew that men like her father had used it only for the silver and precious things to be found there, stealing its resources and ill treating its inhabitants—but were there truly other men who chose to live in this New World? What kind of men were they?

      ‘Why so pensive, Maribel?’

      Justin’s voice made her swing round to gaze at him.

      ‘You are safe now. Once we are in England you must forget all that happened on the island—and what that beast did to you.’

      ‘Would you have me forget everything that happened on the island?’ Her eyes sought his. ‘I thought for a moment…that day, on the other side of the island near the falls, before Higgins fired the warning shot…’ She stopped, cheeks burning.

      ‘What did you think, Maribel?’ Justin’s gaze was deep blue like the ocean and it held her fast. ‘Tell me.’

      ‘I thought perhaps there might be some other way…’ She shook her head and turned from him. His eyes promised so much, but he did not love her. He would have spoken before this if he truly cared what became of her. ‘It does not matter.’

      ‘Does it not?’ His voice was deep, husky with passion. ‘I believe you fought Pike because you were afraid for my life. Anna fetched the pistol because she knew he was too strong for you—but you stood your ground with just a knife. Why did you do that?’

      ‘I could not let him kill you.’

      ‘Why?’

      She whirled round to face him. ‘Will you have it all? Will you shame me? I could not bear that you should die because—’

      Justin reached for her, pulling her close. His mouth stopped her from confessing it all, his kiss so demanding that she melted into his body, almost swooning with pleasure. Heat pooled inside her, making her moan with wanting. When he let her go at last, she looked at him, touching her fingers to her lips, eyes wide and searching.

      ‘Why did you do that?’

      ‘Because I want you more than you will ever know. I am not worthy of you, Maribel. I have no right to ask you to be mine. You are a lady and you will make a good marriage to a man whose hands are not stained with blood, a man who does not live under the shadow of crimes that are punishable by death.’

      ‘Supposing I do not wish to marry this man whose hands are white and soft because he has never lifted one finger for himself?’

      Justin laughed softly. ‘Is this the proud Spanish lady I first captured? I think you have changed, Maribel.’

      ‘Of course I have changed.’ She held out her hands, showing him the ridges that had been caused by hard work. ‘I have learned what it is to work if I want to eat—and I should not want to become the lady I was.’

      ‘But you must.’ His expression was serious. ‘What else can you do?’

      Maribel stared at him. Tears were brimming and she felt like screaming. Why could he not see? Why would he not love her as she loved him?

      ‘You are impossible! An arrogant, stupid…pirate!’

      She ran from him, not heeding his cry. He called her name, but she would not look back. Her heart was breaking, because she knew there was nothing she could do but return to England and hope that her family would take her in.

      Rushing down the iron ladder that led below decks, she entered her cabin and flung herself down on the bed, covering her face with her hands as the tears broke. Her life was ruined and all because he had stolen her heart with his kisses and his bold looks. Why had he kissed her so if he did not love her?

      ‘Maribel. You must not weep for me. I am not worthy of you.’

      ‘Go away. I hate you!’ she cried without looking round.

      ‘It would be much better if you did hate me.’

      ‘Do you imagine I