would punish me if he heard me say it, lady—but be careful of the captain. I don’t trust him. If what I’ve heard is true, he has tricked you and your father…’
‘What do you mean? How hath he tricked us?’
‘I heard as Lord Roberts lay close to death when this voyage was begun. If ’tis true, Captain Hynes will inherit the estate from his cousin—and you mayhap?’
Maribel turned pale, her head swimming for one terrible moment as she realised what this might mean. She had seen the look of lust in Samuel Hynes’s eyes and felt sick, because she knew that she would be alone in England, apart from her servants, and at the mercy of an unscrupulous man. Hearing the sounds on deck, she understood that they had already begun to cast off. It was too late to go back, and even if she were to return to her home she was not sure that her father would believe her.
As the cabin boy left, Maribel fell to her knees. She began to pull her rosary through her hands, her lips moving in prayer.
‘Save me from this wicked man,’ she whispered. ‘Please God, do not allow me to fall into the hands of such a man—for I believe I should prefer to lie in my grave…’
‘She is an English ship,’ Justin said as they saw the flag flying proudly. ‘We do not attack English ships.’
‘The Mistress Susanna belongs to Samuel Hynes.’ Higgins growled. ‘I’ve served him and he was a worse devil than Captain Smythe knew how to be. He is a merchant and fair game. We’ve seen no Spanish ships for three days and the men are restless. I think we should take this prize. Besides—look at the second flag. That is Sabatini’s pennant…’
‘Why would an English ship fly the pennant of a Spanish Don?’ Justin’s gaze narrowed. Since discovering what kind of a man Don Sabatini was, he had determined to single his ships out whenever possible. ‘There is something odd here. Mayhap Sabatini thinks to fool us into believing it is an English ship. Put a shot across their bows and run up the skull and crossbones. I would discover what kind of trick the Spaniard plays here.’
Justin was thoughtful as his men sprang into action. He knew they were restless and eager to return to their island to turn some of the booty they had taken into gold so they could spend it in the taverns and with the whores that plied their trade on the waterfront. His instincts had been to let the ship pass, but seeing Sabatini’s pennant had changed his mind. The Spaniard was obviously trying to sneak one of his ships through under an English flag, and was possibly carrying a rich prize.
The men he commanded were loyal to a point, but wild and reckless. If he denied them such a prize, they might turn against him as easily as they had Smythe. Justin did not intend to continue as a pirate for longer than necessary. Once he had amassed enough gold, he could buy his own ship and become a merchant adventurer, which would suit him better than his present trade. Perhaps one day he might be able to return to England. He was not certain of his welcome, for his father would feel that he had disgraced the family by becoming a pirate, but his mother would always welcome him with open arms.
Justin had sent no word to his home. Better that his family think him lost than that his gentle mother should know what trade her son followed. Before he could return he must redeem himself in some way.
The Mistress Susanna was lowering her flag in surrender. She had given in without a fight—why? What cargo was so precious that the master was willing to surrender rather than risk being sunk?
Maribel rushed to the porthole as she heard the first shots fired. She could see that another ship was closing in on them fast—and it was flying the skull and crossbones. They were going to be boarded by pirates!
‘Donna Maribel, you must hurry…’ Anna came bustling into the cabin. ‘The captain bid me tell you to hide somewhere. He says he did not dare to fire back lest the ship was badly damaged and harm came to you—but he would have you hide for he says these men are scum and they will kill us or worse.’
Maribel’s face drained of colour. Her knees felt weak and she was frightened by all the shouting and noise on deck. The ship’s captain had surrendered, but it seemed that not all the crew were willing to obey him. Some were putting up a fight and there were screams as men were injured.
‘I shall not hide,’ she said. ‘There would be no point for they will search the cabins and I will not be dragged from beneath the bed. It would not be dignified. I am the wife of Don Pablo Sanchez!’
‘You could hide in your trunk, lady.’
‘Do you think that would stop them?’ Maribel’s head went up proudly. ‘These men only want money. If I tell them who I am, they will hold me for a ransom. My father is in charge of my fortune and he will pay if my life is in danger.’
Maribel’s face was white, but she was proud and stubborn. She was the widow of Don Pablo Sanchez and a rich heiress. Her father would surely pay to have her returned to him safely. He had forced her to take this voyage, but he would not allow her to die at the hands of pirates for what could that gain him?
He had arranged the marriage because he wanted an alliance with Lord Roberts. Nothing had changed. He would pay the price these rogues demanded.
Maribel resisted her maidservant’s attempt to make her hide and stood proudly in the centre of the cabin. When the door was suddenly thrown open, she looked at the man who stood on the threshold, facing him angrily.
‘Who are you, sir? How dare you enter a lady’s cabin without permission?’
The man stared at her for a moment. He was tall, handsome, with long pale hair that looked windblown; his was a strong face, arrogant and bold. His blue eyes seemed to burn her flesh as he stared at her in a way that challenged her. His gaze made her flush and tremble inside, but she did not allow her fear to show. She was a proud Spanish lady and would not show fear in front of a pirate dog!
‘A thousand pardons, my lady,’ the pirate said and swept her a bow to rival any courtier. A smile played about a mouth that looked sensuous, one eyebrow arched in inquiry. ‘And who might you be, Madonna?’
‘I am Donna Maribel Sanchez, widow of Don Pablo and daughter of Don Sabatini—and soon to be the wife of Lord Roberts of Helbourne.’
‘That old roué? He was on his last legs before I left England,’ the pirate said and grinned. His smile made her heart leap in her breast and insensibly some of her fear evaporated. ‘Nay, lady, you are wasted on such a husband. I believe we have rescued you from a fate worse than death—the man is riddled with pox and steeped in vice. We shall take you with us to save you from this evil.’
‘No!’ Maribel stepped back as he approached her. She raised her head, her ringlets tossing as she trembled with indignation. ‘My father will pay a ransom. I am wealthy in my own right…’ A little gasp escaped her as she saw the gleam of mockery in his eyes.
‘Indeed? Then Fate was with us this day, for we have a richer prize than we thought. A cargo of wine is one thing—but the widow of a rich man and daughter of Sabatini is another. Your father hath much to atone for, Madonna—and now we have the means to make him pay.’
‘What do you mean? My father is a good man…’ Maribel caught her breath as she saw his stern look. ‘What is it? Why do you look at me that way?’
‘I shall not offend you, lady, for I believe you may be innocent.’
‘Tell
