In the Tudor Court Collection. Amanda McCabe
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‘Would you, Madonna?’ He smiled at her and her heart missed a beat. ‘I am not sure that I believe you. Come…’ He held out his hand. ‘You must climb down to the boat and be rowed ashore.’ She gave him her hand and his fingers closed about it, strong, cool and somehow comforting. ‘I have your word that you will not try to run away?’
‘I believe Anna already gave you surety?’
‘Yes, she did, but I would have it from you.’
‘Very well, you have it.’ Maribel glowered at him. She looked down at the rope ladder. ‘I am not sure I can manage that.’
‘Fear not. I shall go before you. I shall steady your feet so that you do not miss a rung—and if you fall I shall catch you.’
‘I shall not fall!’
Maribel did not miss the gleam in his eyes. She watched as he went on to the ladder. Tom came forwards to help her place one foot on the ladder and then she was over the side and seeking the next. A strong hand caught her ankle and placed her foot on the next rung, sending a shock running through her that made her gasp and almost lose her balance. How dare he touch her in such an intimate manner? She had almost begun to trust him, but this was too much! She would have liked to vent her fury on him, but it would be undignified to rage at him in this position. She glanced down indignantly and saw the gleam of mischief in his eyes.
‘Thank you, but I need no help of that kind.’
‘I would not have you fall on me, lady.’
Maribel caught the mockery in his voice and fumed inside. Oh, what a rogue he was! How dare he laugh at her? She would have liked to reprimand him, but all her concentration was on negotiating the ladder without treading on her skirts or lifting them high enough to give him a view of her thighs.
As she reached the bottom he helped her to step down into the boat, steadying her as she found a seat and sat down. She sent him a look of scorn, but refused to speak, because the expression on his face told her that he had enjoyed her predicament.
Maribel watched Anna descend nimbly into the boat and scowled. Her maid had managed easily alone and she might too if that oaf had not grabbed her ankles every time she took a step. How he must have enjoyed that!
She would not look at either of them, sitting stonyfaced and staring at the shore as they were rowed closer. When she realised that she would have to wade through water to get to the beach, she was dismayed. She must either lift her skirts high enough to avoid getting them wet and thus reveal her legs in front of the pirates or suffer a wet gown for hours.
She stood hesitating, unsure of how best to go about it, but then became aware that Captain Sylvester was in the water beside the boat.
‘Come, lady, let me carry you.’ He held out his hand.
‘I can manage…’
‘You will get your gown wet and it will not be pleasant.’
‘I can manage.’ Maribel tried to put one leg over the side of the boat, but he grabbed her waist, swinging her up and over his shoulder. She gave a scream of anger, beating at his back.
‘Put me down, you brute! Put me down at once.’
‘You tempt me, lady. You sorely tempt me to dump you in the water,’ Justin said but carried her up the beach and then set her on her feet. Maribel immediately took a swing at him, but he caught her wrist in an iron vice, his expression stern and forbidding. ‘Be careful, Madonna. Try my patience too often and you will regret it.’
‘You are arrogant and I hate you!’
‘Arrogant? Yes, perhaps I am,’ Justin said. ‘But I do not believe that you hate me. Tell me you are sorry.’
‘No. I shall—’ Maribel caught her breath as he suddenly crushed her against him. She lifted her gaze and something in his face made her gasp. He was so powerful and strong and she was playing with fire. ‘I take it back. You are arrogant, but I do not hate you.’ The strong feeling he aroused in her was not hate, but a mixture of annoyance and frustration, because he seemed to enjoy provoking her. She was used to politeness and respect and this man—this man had cut through the layers, stripping away all that she had known and accepted as her due.
‘That is better.’ Justin laughed and let her go. ‘Forgive me, lady, but you tempt me almost past bearing. I have seldom seen such delicious ankles and beautiful legs. I could not help myself. You are a siren sent to lure me to my death, I dare say.’
Maribel tossed her head, protecting herself in the only way she knew. ‘You are impossible. Would that I were a man! I would run you through with my sword.’
‘You might try.’ His eyes seemed to flash blue fire, making her hold her breath. ‘Tantrums will avail you nothing. We of the brethren are equals. You will be required to work, as is everyone else. You may help Tom fill the barrels with water from the well at the hacienda. It is a job for boys and women.’
Maribel threw him a look of disgust, but held her breath. He had made her very aware of his strength and power over her. She could only obey him for the moment—but when everyone was sleeping she would rouse Anna and together they would escape into the interior of the island. Someone would tell her where she could find Juanita’s family.
Justin watched the woman struggle with the heavy pail, 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