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‘You are a pirate and an ignorant barbarian.’ Perhaps because Maribel felt ashamed of her weakness in not fighting him sooner, her voice was laced with scorn, every inch the haughty lady.

‘The barbarians were not as ignorant as you might imagine. In some ways their culture outstrips our own.’ Justin smiled, more amused than angry. ‘Had I been the ruthless devil you would have me, you would be warming my bed this night before I gave you to my men for their sport.’

Maribel drew back in shock, her eyes wide with horror.

A smile touched his mouth. ‘Nay, I shall not treat you so ill. You may be a shrew, but you are a lady and I shall treat you as such. You will not be harmed while we hold you for ransom.’

‘How can I trust your word?’ She would be a fool to believe him for an instant, but something inside her responded despite herself.

Anne Herries lives in Cambridgeshire, where she is fond of watching wildlife and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature, and sometimes puts a little into her books, although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment, and to give pleasure to her readers. She is a winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association Romance Prize.

Previous novels by the same author:

MARRYING CAPTAIN JACK

THE UNKNOWN HEIR

THE HOMELESS HEIRESS

THE RAKE’S REBELLIOUS LADY

A COUNTRY MISS IN HANOVER SQUARE^*

AN INNOCENT DEBUTANTE IN HANOVER SQUARE^*

THE MISTRESS OF HANOVER SQUARE^*

*A Season in Town trilogy

and in the Regency series

The Steepwood Scandal:

LORD RAVENSDEN’S MARRIAGE

COUNTERFEIT EARL

and in The Hellfire Mysteries:

AN IMPROPER COMPANION

A WEALTHY WIDOW

A WORTHY GENTLEMAN

The Pirate’s Willing Captive
Anne Herries

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Prologue

Spring 1557

The man walked away from the hostelry on the waterfront deep in thought. He had booked passage on a ship bound for France and it might be many years before he returned home. He was filled with regret and anger for he had parted from his father with bitter words.

‘You take the word of others above mine, Father—you would believe a stranger above your own son.’

Justin Devere’s blue eyes had flashed with pride, making Sir John snort impatiently. ‘You were a damned fool, Justin. By God, sir! There is no excuse for what you have done. You are the great-grandson of Robert Melford and a more devoted supporter of the Crown could not be found. Your grandfather was much favoured by King Henry VIII—and my own family has always been loyal. By becoming involved in this conspiracy to murder Queen Mary and replace her with the Princess Elizabeth you have let your whole family down. I am ashamed of you!’

‘No, sir. You wrong me…’

Justin raised his head defiantly. He was a handsome devil, with pale blond hair and deep blue eyes; reckless, arrogant and dismissive of rules, he stood head and shoulders above most men, including his father. His grandfather said he was a throwback to Robert Melford in temperament and build, though not in colouring. He was also fiercely proud and it pricked his pride to hear his father call him a fool.

‘You have spoken treason against the Queen and that cannot be tolerated.’

‘It was no such thing, sir!’ Justin declared passionately. ‘I will grant that some hotheads have talked of such a plot in my hearing, but I am innocent of any conspiracy—as is the princess herself. She was gracious enough to grant me an audience; many of us wished her to know that we support her and if any attempt were made to disbar her from inheriting the throne when the Queen dies we should rise to her—’

‘Be quiet!’ John Devere thundered. ‘Do you not realise that that in itself is sufficient to have you arrested for treason?’

‘I shall not be silent, sir. I am as loyal an Englishman as any, but I cannot love a Catholic queen who puts good Englishmen to the fire in the name of religion.’

‘It is not so many years since we were all Catholic and proud of it,’ Justin’s father reminded him. ‘King Hal saw fit to break with Rome and we were all forced to follow or lose our favour at court, but that does not mean—’ He broke off, for the anger was writ plain on Justin’s face. ‘While the Queen lives ’tis treason to speak of her death and well you know it.’

‘We did not plot to murder her, merely to protect our own Elizabeth.’

‘Surely it is enough that talk of your conspiracy has reached her Majesty? The Princess has herself faced questions from the Queen regarding treason and was lucky that her Majesty was in good humour because her husband has promised to visit her soon. Had it not been for that fortunate circumstance, she might have found herself in the Tower once more.’ John placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. ‘Go to France or Spain, Justin. I know that though you have done wrong your heart was good. You have my blessing. Send me word of your situation and as soon as I think the coast clear you may return.’

‘You would have me flee like a coward?’ Justin’s face reflected his disgust.

‘I would have you live, sirrah! Stay and I may have no son to inherit my estate—and that will break your mother’s heart.’

Lost in the memory of the bitter quarrel with his father, Justin did not notice the shadows behind him. Not until it was too late did he realise that he had been followed from the hostelry. Even as he turned, about to draw his sword, a crashing blow to the back of his head sent him to the ground and he lost consciousness as he was carried aboard a ship, not as the passenger he had paid to be, but to serve before the mast.

Chapter One

Spain—autumn 1558

‘No, Father, please do not ask it of me.’ The girl faced the tall man with iron-grey hair defiantly. He was a man of wiry stature, elegantly dressed in black with only one jewel of note, which was a ring made from gold and black agate to denote his mourning for his late wife. ‘I am not ready to marry again. I know you are grieving and you wish a better life for me, but I would rather stay at home with you.’

‘It is nearly a year since Don Pablo died.’

Don Miguel Sabatini’s face was cold as he looked at his beautiful daughter. With her dark hair dressed in ringlets in the Spanish way, she reminded him of his first wife, whom he had come to hate after learning she had played him false with a lover. Her eyes were those of a temptress, a wanton wretch who had betrayed him, leaving a scar that would never heal. When he looked at Maribel’s face he saw the pride of her English mother, a pride he had never been able to break despite his treatment of her, and the hatred burned cold and deep within him. His first wife had been a wanton, deceiving him with a man he had believed his friend. He had never forgiven her and his unkindness had driven her to the decline that led to an early grave. She swore that Maribel was his child, but he had never been certain and because of it could not love his daughter.

However, his second wife Juanita, a gentle kindhearted woman, already past thirty when he wed her, had loved the motherless babe, and, unable to bear a living child herself, had taken the girl as her own, forcing him to show acceptance of a child he despised. It was she who had arranged Maribel’s marriage to her young cousin. Unfortunately the bridegroom had died at the hands of bandits while riding in the hills a few months after the wedding, and Juanita had insisted her much loved stepdaughter return to live with them. Maribel had been grieving for her young husband ever since.

‘You must marry, daughter. It is a woman’s duty and her destiny.’

‘But I cannot put aside my feelings for Pablo so easily, sir. I loved him truly and I do not wish to marry again.’

‘I have written to a gentleman in England with whom I have business. He imports wine from our vineyards and a marriage between you would seal the alliance, make it stronger.’

‘But I do not know this man…’ Maribel protested, dark eyes flashing a protest. ‘You have not even told me his name.’

‘His name is not important, but since you will have it—he is Lord William Roberts of Helbourne.’ He waved his hand as if to dismiss her.

Maribel refused to be dismissed so brusquely.

‘An English lord?’ Her gaze narrowed as she looked at him, saw the cold proud stance and felt again the hurt he had inflicted so often. Why was he so often unkind to her? What had she done to make him hate her, for she felt that his feeling went deeper than mere dislike? ‘How old is he? What manner of man is he? Please tell me, Father.’

‘What can his age signify?’ Don Miguel demanded with an icy stare. ‘He is of good character and rich—what more could you wish for?’

‘A man such as Don Pablo. He was young and handsome and I cared for him,’ Maribel said proudly. ‘He left me a fortune—so why should I marry for wealth when I do not need money?’

‘A woman alone cannot properly care for her estates. I have done what I can for you, daughter, but you should think of marriage. It is the right and proper course for you to follow. Surely you wish for a husband and children?’ His voice softened, took on a persuasive note. ‘You cannot wish to spend all your life in mourning for a man you hardly knew? He would have wished you to be happy.’

‘Yes…perhaps,’ Maribel faltered. When her father spoke softly to her she almost believed that he truly cared for her, and yet in her heart she knew that it was Juanita who had always stood between them, sheltering her from his anger. She thought sometimes that he had hated her from the moment she was born. However, Juanita had told her that he was a good man despite his stern ways and she believed her stepmother. If he felt she should marry this English lord, it might be for the best. To openly disobey him at a time when they were both grieving for the woman they had loved would be to show disrespect to Juanita’s memory. ‘I beg you will allow me time to consider this marriage, sir. I should like to meet the gentleman before making a commitment. ’

‘I will write and invite him to visit. He is a busy man. He may send someone in his stead—perhaps a portrait would ease your mind?’

‘I should like to see his likeness.’ Maribel moved forwards, her hand outstretched. ‘Please, give me a little time, sir. I have not yet recovered from my stepmother’s death. I loved her dearly.’

‘As did I, God rest her soul,’ Don Miguel said piously. ‘For Juanita’s sake I shall grant you a further few months, but I want you to make yourself ready, Maribel. It is my wish that you should marry soon.’

Maribel inclined her head. From the tone of her father’s voice she knew herself dismissed. He had no more to say to her and considered the matter settled. No doubt he would invite Lord Roberts to visit them and arrange the wedding without further reference to her wishes.

Going outside to the shaded courtyard, Maribel blinked to stop her tears. She had no wish to leave Spain for England, which was a country of which she knew little. Her mother had been an Englishwoman, but Maribel could not remember her, though she had lived until past her child’s second birthday when she had died of a fever after giving birth to a stillborn son. It must be because she was half-English that her father had decided she should marry this English lord.

Maribel’s throat caught as she thought of her handsome young husband. He was but sixteen when they married, her own age at the time, and beautiful to look upon. Pablo Sanchez had a gentle nature. He was loving and kind, and he had treated Maribel as a sister. They had had fun riding together and playing foolish games. Something that no one else knew was that their marriage had never been consummated. Maribel was as much a virgin now as she had been on the day of her wedding.

Perhaps if her father understood that she was still virgin he would have some sympathy for her, but she could never tell him for it would shame her.

The future loomed dark and forbidding before her. She had been granted a few more months, but she knew the time would come when her father would force her to marry the man of his choosing.

‘Cut him down and carry him below,’ Justin commanded of the sailors. He had just been compelled to order the flogging of one of the crew for disobedience and it had taken all his self-control not to snatch the cruel whip from the bosun’s hand. ‘We must tend his wounds.’

‘Aye, that we must,’ Higgins growled. ‘’Tis a wonder the poor lad bore it as well as he did.’

‘I know it well enough.’

Justin did not remind the man that he had been lashed the first time he disobeyed the monster that was their captain. On waking with a crashing headache that first morning to discover that he was aboard a strange ship and bound for the east, Justin had at first refused to take orders from Captain Smythe and his bosun. However, a lashing at the mast had made him realise that he had little choice but to obey. It was entirely due to the first mate Higgins’s care of him that he had recovered.

Gradually, over the months, Justin had found his sea legs and gained the respect of the rest of the crew. He knew that they looked to him for a lead, and that most of them were at the point of mutiny. The time was coming when he must act, but for the moment the injured lad was his main concern.

Once they were safely below decks, they laid the young sailor on a mattress of blankets and sacking and Higgins began to wash away the blood as carefully as he could. The sailor had fainted after forty lashes and was unaware as the man tended his wounds with a salve. When he had finished, Higgins looked up at Justin.

‘The men can’t take much more of this, sir. They are looking to you for a lead.’

‘You are talking of mutiny?’

‘Aye, sir—common justice, I call it. The captain and his bosun must be put overboard in the night. Some of the officers are ready to join us, but any that refuse will go with the captain. The men think you should be their captain. They will follow you, sir—wherever you lead us.’

‘I have heard the whispers. I am honoured by your trust in me, Higgins. Do the men understand that if we do this we shall be outlaws—forced to earn our living by piracy? If we were taken, we should all hang. This ship sails under the Queen’s flag. Some of you may have signed of your own free will. I was press-ganged against my will, but it would not save me. I should hang with the rest of you.’

‘Aye, we’ll all hang if they take us, sir—but some of us think it worth the risk. A year or two as privateers and we can live like kings for the rest of our lives.’

‘We’ll be pirates, make no mistake, Higgins. A privateer sails with the Queen’s blessing and I think we shall not be granted such a dispensation.’

‘Aye, sir. The men know it.’

Justin’s gaze narrowed. ‘If I agree to this, there must be as little bloodshed as possible. I shall not stand by and see old scores settled. If I am to be master then the men will obey my rules. I shall not flog a man for a petty offence, but if a man murders a comrade he will hang. I am no soft touch and it is best the crew understand it before we begin.’

‘We’ll sail by the laws of the brethren. We all know what is involved, sir—and we’re all behind you to a man.’

Justin hesitated, then, ‘Very well. The men will wait for my signal. Do we know who is with us amongst the officers?’

‘The bosun will side with the captain, and perhaps Mr Hendry—all the others are as sick of their brutality as the rest of us.’

‘Mr Hendry has the keys to the arsenal. We shall need that if we are to succeed.’

‘He may resist, sir.’

‘Leave him to me,’ Justin’s eyes gleamed with excitement. A life of piracy was not one he would have chosen, but now that it had been thrust upon him he saw that it was his only chance. If he refused, the men would butcher the captain, officers and midshipmen, and he would receive a knife in the back. Besides, it offered an adventure and freedom from the tyrant who had made all their lives a misery. ‘When Hendry comes on late watch I shall offer him the chance to join us. If he refuses, he will be made captive until we have the ship—and then we shall put the men ashore. We are not far from the coast of Venice. The captain and officers can stay there until an English ship makes port and takes them home.’

‘They will tell their tales of us, sir—we shall be hunted across the seas.’

‘We shall be the hunters, Higgins. We’ll head for Cyprus and refit and rename the ship. She needs trimming down to make her faster. We might sell her and buy something more in keeping with our trade. Trust me, I have learned much these past months and my mathematics are good; I know what is needed to improve her speed.’

‘Aye, sir, we all know it. You will make a good captain—and you’ll have the men behind you. Willing hands make light work.’

Justin smiled—he knew that the men often disobeyed orders or deliberately took their time carrying out their tasks as their only means of revenge on a master they hated.

‘Tell the men to be ready for my signal.’

‘Aye, aye, Captain Sylvester.’

Higgins saluted and left him alone with their patient. Justin smiled. He had given a false name to the bosun when he was first ordered to report for duty. No one knew his true identity and he would never reveal it. He was Sylvester and would now be the captain of a pirate vessel; for he had no doubt that they could take the ship. Justin was not sure that first officer Hendry would be prepared to sail with them as pirates, but he would be given his chance. If he could achieve it, the mutiny would take place with no loss of life, but he accepted that there might be casualties. Facing reality, he understood that he could not ply his trade without some bloodshed, but he would offer a safe passage to the crews of the ships they took. If they refused…Justin’s expression hardened. They would do what was necessary and no more.

He had not asked to be brought on board this ship. Injustice and prejudice had forced him to flee from England, and a press gang had robbed him of his liberty. In time he would part company from the ship and its crew and make his way to France, as he’d planned, but for the moment he was committed to leading the men to the fortunes they all hoped to make.

‘I have had word that Lord Roberts is to send his cousin to escort you to England, daughter,’ Don Miguel Sabatini said. ‘You have had time enough to grieve. Captain Hynes will be here within days. You are to have your possessions packed and be ready to leave.’

‘But am I to have no choice? Supposing I do not like him?’ Maribel’s head went up, her expression defiant.

‘You will obey your husband, as you obey me. I have made my decision, Maribel.’

‘What of my lands here in Spain?’ Maribel had hoped that he had forgotten his plans for her marriage these past six months, but it seemed he had not.

‘You may trust me to administer them for you. Once you are married, they will belong to your husband. He may wish to sell them and I shall await his instructions.’

‘They belong to me. Pablo left them to my care. I do not wish to sell them.’

‘Pablo has no son to inherit. Your new husband will instruct you in his wishes. Perhaps if you please him he will allow you to keep them and send his agents to inspect them.’

Maribel stared at him, mutiny flaring. She was angry that he refused to listen to her plea, but uncertain what she could do. Had Pablo’s father lived, she might have applied to him for help, but her young husband had had no family. She was quite alone and had no influence with anyone; instead, she was at the mercy of her father’s will.

As she left him and went out, wandering to the crest of the hill to look out over the sea, her thoughts were heavy. Even if she denied her father he might send her to England. There was little she could do; her fortune was in her father’s hands. The lawyers had told her it was for the best and she had foolishly signed—but Juanita had been living then and her father had not been so stern…so unforgiving.

Hearing a muffled sound out to sea, Maribel shaded her eyes. The ships were too far out for her to see them properly, but she believed that one was firing on the other. What was going on? She had heard her father complain of the pirates that often attacked merchant ships in Spanish waters. Could it be a pirate vessel—and whose ship was being attacked?

‘We found a rich haul in the holds.’ Higgins grinned at Justin as he swung aboard the Defiance. ‘The captain would not tell us from whence he came, but we found chests of unrefined silver…’

‘From the New World, you think?’

‘It would seem so, Cap’n.’

Justin nodded. Since he had taken command of the ship, putting its master and most of the officers ashore, they had been fortunate and had already taken three rich merchant ships, all of whom had surrendered when the first shot was fired across their bows.

‘They surrendered the ship without a fight. Johnson told me that the crew have no love for the owner of this vessel. They were ordered to kill the slaves who mined the silver for them before they took it aboard and it hath sickened some of them.’

‘That is beyond forgiveness!’ Justin was angry. ‘By God, the man responsible deserves to be taught a lesson!’

‘Don Miguel Sabatini is the owner of the Juanita. He has men whose job it is to run the mines and they do not treat the slaves well. I have heard of him before from crew I met when we went ashore at Cyprus. His name is feared. Once he knows we have attacked his ships we shall be marked men.’

‘We are faster than any Spanish ship, be it man of war or merchantmen,’ Justin said. ‘I do not fear Don Miguel nor yet any Spanish merchant. Only an English fighting ship can challenge us—and thus far we have outrun them all.’

‘Aye, the luck has been with us,’ Higgins agreed. ‘The men think you are their lucky charm, sir.’

‘We have been fortunate so far.’ Justin laughed, feeling a surge of elation. ‘This is the third rich prize we have taken. One more and we shall sail for Cyprus to re-provision and give the men a chance to spend some of their booty.’

‘On wine and women,’ Higgins agreed. ‘For myself I’ll be saving it to invest, perhaps in land in the New World. I had a wife once, but when I returned from a long voyage I found her in bed with her new lover. She wanted a man who was content to live ashore. I needed to feel the wind in my face and the waves beneath me so I left her to it and signed on for a decent master. I’m in no hurry to retire, but when I do I’ll find me a good woman and become a man of property.’

‘A goodly ambition.’ Justin’s eyes revealed no secrets. The austere life at sea had hardened him in body and in mind. Thoughts of his quarrel with his father no longer tortured him. Though he’d not chosen his new life he had become accustomed to it and even relished it at times. ‘Make secure the ship, Higgins. We’ll find shelter in a quiet cove for the night. The look of that sky tells me that there will be a storm before long…’

As the first mate went out, Justin looked at the small chest he had taken from the captain of the captured ship. It was locked, but he prised it open with his knife and looked at the contents. Realising just what he had found, Justin hid the parchment inside his jerkin. If this fell into the wrong hands, it might cause mutiny and endless arguments, even some bloodshed. The map might be worth a fortune, but it would be more trouble than a little. He would keep it hidden for the moment while he decided what he ought to do with the unexpected discovery.

‘Will you not relent and let me stay in Spain, Father?’ Maribel asked one last time before she departed for the ship. ‘I could go to my husband’s house and you need not see me again.’

‘To draw back now would cause offence to Lord Roberts and default on our contract,’ her father said. ‘Go with Captain Hynes. Your future husband has entrusted you to his care and you must forget all that you knew here. Your husband is a man of some stature in England. You should thank me on your knees for arranging such a marriage for you.’

Maribel understood that there was to be no reprieve for her. ‘Very well, sir. I shall obey you.’

She turned away, her face proud and cold. Since there was no help for it she must accept her fate. Samuel Hynes was in the courtyard, waiting for her with the horses. He approached, offering his hand as if he would help her, but she gave her hand to her groom, Rodrigo, and let him put her up on her horse. There was something about Lord Roberts’s cousin that made her distrust him; he had a sly, lascivious gleam in his eyes that made her uncomfortable and she would not have him touch her.

She saw him frown as he turned away. Her maid, Anna, who was to accompany her to England, was taken up behind the groom. They had both chosen to accompany her to her new home for they loved her dearly. It was Anna who had held her when she wept after Juanita’s death, and Rodrigo who had taught her to ride as a child. Knowing that they were with her gave Maribel courage. She was not completely alone. She had people who cared for her—and perhaps in time she would learn to love the man she was to marry.

It was but a short ride to the cove where the ship had anchored. Maribel knew that her father had received bad news about one of his ships recently. The Juanita, which was his flagship, had been attacked and robbed of its cargo by pirates. Having sustained damage, it was in port being repaired. She was to travel on an English ship belonging to Samuel Hynes and understood that the Mistress Susanna was not as large or as well armed as the Juanita.

‘Welcome aboard my ship,’ Samuel Hynes said as he helped her step on deck. ‘I am honoured to have you as a passenger, Donna Maribel. My cousin is a fortunate man. Had I been in his shoes, I would have made the journey myself.’

‘I dare say Lord Roberts has much to concern him with the welfare of his estate and people.’

‘Yes, perhaps. He is often at court. Yet I believe I should have spared the time for a bride as lovely as you, Madonna.’

Maribel lifted her head proudly, her eyes conveying her feeling of scorn. She would not accept his compliments for she did not like or trust him.

‘I believe I shall go to my cabin, sir.’

‘As you wish. I have given up my own so that you may be comfortable, Donna Maribel.’

‘You will address me as Donna Sanchez, if you please.’ Maribel said coldly. ‘I have not yet married Lord Roberts and am still the widow of Don Pablo Sanchez.’

‘Indeed you are, lady.’ Samuel inclined his head respectfully, but there was a glitter of anger in his eyes. ‘Forgive me. One of my men will show you the way.’

He signalled to a cabin boy, who came at a run. He grinned at Maribel and beckoned to her.

‘Come, lady, I will take you to your cabin.’ He hesitated as Maribel did not immediately follow. ‘I don’t speak Spanish, señorita…but you must come or he will be angry…’

Maribel smiled at him, because she sensed his concern. ‘I understand English very well. My mother was English and Juanita thought it right I should speak it as well as my father’s language. As a child I had an English nurse.’

The lad looked at her, but said nothing, glancing back at Captain Hynes as if he feared him. Only when they were in the cabin did he speak again.

‘He 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 me! I command it!’

‘You command?’ The pirate’s teeth were white against the tan of his skin as he smiled and then bowed to her. ‘Very well, I shall obey you, lady. Your father is a thief and a murderer. He allows his captains to mistreat the crews that sail for him—and he forces the natives of the New World to mine their silver for him and then has them murdered so that they cannot reveal the whereabouts of the silver to anyone else.’

‘No! I do not believe you! You are lying!’

Maribel flew at him as he tried to take her arm to drag her from the cabin. She raised her hand to hit him, but he pulled her arm behind her back, catching her against his body, and holding her pressed hard to him. Maribel stared up at him fearfully, sucking in her breath as he lowered his head and took possession of her mouth. His lips demanded where Pablo’s had softly whispered; his arms were strong, his body like iron and the heat of his manhood burned her. She felt the press of his desire through the silk of her simple gown and her heart raced. No man had ever treated her thus, and she did not understand why her heart was beating so fast. She should despise him, yet her body felt as if it were drowning in pleasure and a part of her wanted to stay in his arms. It took all her control not to moan and press herself against him for she had never felt such sweet sensation.

What was she thinking? He was a pirate, a barbaric rogue! She placed her hands against his chest and pushed; his strength was such that he could have taken full advantage, but to her surprise he let her go.

As he drew back, she saw the hot glow fade from his eyes and a cold disdain replace the lust that had for a moment seemed to have him in its grip.

‘You are proud lady and lashed out in temper. Perhaps that will show you the error of your ways. Attempt to strike me again and I shall not stop at a kiss.’

‘You are a pirate and an ignorant barbarian.’ Maribel had recovered her senses. Perhaps because she felt ashamed of her weakness in not fighting him sooner, her voice was laced with scorn and she was every inch the haughty lady.

‘The barbarians were not as ignorant as you might imagine, Madonna. In some ways their culture outstrips our own.’ Justin grinned, more amused than angry. ‘Think yourself fortunate that I am not what you think me. Had I been the ruthless devil you would have me, you would this night be warming my bed before I gave you to my men for their sport.’

Maribel drew back in shock, her eyes wide with horror.

A smile touched his mouth. ‘Nay, I shall not treat you so ill. You may be a shrew, but you are a lady and I shall treat you as such. You will not be harmed while we hold you for ransom.’

‘How can I trust your word?’ She would be a fool to believe him for an instant, but something inside her responded despite herself.

‘Because I give it. Behave yourself, lady, and I shall restrain my hand—but cause me trouble and I may just put you across my knee and teach you a lesson.’

‘You would not dare!’ Maribel stared at him. She saw that he was laughing and realised that he was mocking her. Her cheeks flushed; she knew that he might have done exactly as he wished with her, yet she could not accept her fate so easily. Her tone was more moderate, but still cool as she said, ‘You are a rogue and a thief and—and no gentleman, sir.’

‘I believe you are right. I was once a gentleman of sorts, but life has taught me that I must take what I can from it.’

‘Do you give me your word that I shall not be…ravished and despoiled if I come with you?’

‘If any man lays a finger on you I shall hang him. You have my word on it.’

‘And my servants? My maid and groom?’

‘Your maid may attend you and she is also safe from my men—but your groom returns to Spain with the ship, unless he cares to join us and become one of the brethren.’

‘You do not intend to keep the ship? Surely it is your prize?’

‘We have the cargo and you. The captain will deliver my message to your father. If he sends the gold we demand, you will be returned to him.’

‘And if he does not?’

‘Then he will never see you again.’

Chapter Two

Could this pirate truly mean his threat? Maribel’s heart was beating wildly. She hardly knew how to breathe as he took her arm and steered her from the cabin. Yet firm as his grip was, he was not hurting her and he seemed to mean her no harm, at least for the moment. As they went on deck she saw that his men had surrounded and disarmed the crew. Some of the men were bringing up wine from the hold and transferring it to the pirate ship, which she saw was called the Defiance. As far as she could tell only a few men had resisted, but there had been some fighting and one or two men had been wounded, but it appeared that none had been killed. She saw Samuel Hynes on his knees, a knife being held at his throat; it was obvious that he had not surrendered immediately.

‘What do you intend to do with Captain Hynes?’

‘My men are of a mind to hang him, but I think we may send him back to Spain this time.’

Maribel did not like Captain Hynes but she hated brutality. ‘You should not treat him so disgracefully.’

‘Why, pray, should we not?’

‘He deserves your respect.’

‘Indeed? You have known the man a long time, perhaps?’

She flinched beneath the pirate’s dark mockery. ‘I know little of him—but I believe that all men should be treated with dignity.’

‘Then perhaps you should know that Captain Hynes has men flogged for being in the wrong place at the wrong moment and sometimes just because it amuses him.’

Maribel gasped and lowered her eyes, because against her will she believed him. She had always felt something was not right when Samuel Hynes smiled and bowed to her, sensing that he was hiding his true nature.

‘He may be a cruel man—but if you allow your men to ill treat him you are his equal.’

‘You think so?’ Justin arched his brow, his manner icy cold. ‘I shall remember your words, lady. Now you must go aboard with your woman and those of the crew that have chosen to serve with us.’

‘Are there many?’

‘A cabin boy and a few others…’

Maribel turned to Anna as she joined her. The pirate captain had moved away. He was talking to the pirate who had a knife at Samuel Hynes’s throat. Another man, older, with a scar on his cheek and a red band around his brow, had come to help them cross the plank that had been placed between the two ships to make it easier for the women to cross from one to the other.

‘Give me your hand, lady,’ Higgins said gruffly. ‘You, lad, help the lady down there.’

Maribel felt a hand on her arm steadying her. She looked round to thank whoever it was and saw the cabin boy who had spoken to her when she first came aboard the Mistress Susanna.

‘They have taken you too?’

‘I came willingly, lady,’ he said and smiled at her. ‘It can’t be worse than my last berth.’ Sides, I’ve never had more than a few silver coins in wages, and if I do my work well for the brethren I shall be rich.’

Maribel looked at him doubtfully. ‘Do you not know what could happen to you if the ship is taken? You might be hung as a pirate.’

‘I’d as soon hang as starve on the streets of London, lady—and the life at sea is hard for every man jack of us. I could die of the typhoid or the pox any day.’

Was life so harsh for a young lad? Reared to the privileges of birth and wealth, she had not realised what others suffered. She felt humbled and a little ashamed.

‘What is your name?’

‘I’m called Tom, lady.’ Tis as good a name as any for I know not my own. I was born in prison. Me ma died and I was brought up by the parish until I ran away to sea.’

‘Why did you run away?’

‘Because they made me work for nothing and gave me scraps to eat. I was better off at sea, and if I’d stayed with my last berth I shouldn’t have left the captain—but this one is a monster.’

Maribel reached out to touch his hand, her heart moved to pity by his plight. She had not realised there was so much suffering, for as unhappy as she had been after her stepmother’s death, she had never known what it was like to go hungry or go in fear of a cruel master.

‘If I am ransomed, I shall ask to take you with me. As my servant you would be fed and paid a wage—and I should not beat you.’

‘I thank you, lady,’ Tom said and lifted his head with a touch of pride. ‘Here on this ship all men are equal. We sail by the laws of the brethren and share in the spoils. I reckon I’ll be a servant to no man or woman in future—though if I were I could not want a better mistress.’

Maribel inclined her head, uncertain whether she had been rebuffed. Did servants dislike working for their masters? She had never considered it before. For the first time, Maribel was aware of the sheltered life she had led, protected, kept apart—but not loved, at least by her father.

The older man with the scar on his face was ushering her below deck. She obeyed, moving towards the hatch, but lingered for a moment looking about her. Tom seemed to think he had made a change for the better and somehow her fear had evaporated.

Of course their captain was a wicked, arrogant rogue and she disliked him, even though she had felt something very odd when he kissed her. She would do her best to avoid his company, but it would appear that for the moment she had little to fear from the pirates. They were not as wild as she had feared, and, as she looked back and saw that the captain was coming aboard, she understood that he was in complete command of his ship. The men jumped to obey his orders as he indicated they should disengage with the other ship, but they did so willingly. She had seen no sign of fear or resentment in their faces.

Her gaze went beyond him to the deck of the Mistress Susanna. She saw that Samuel Hynes was tied to a mast and that his men were beginning to cut the ropes that bound him…but they were taking their time. She had seen both fear and resentment on board that ship—as she had seen it in some of the men who served her father. Why was it different here?

‘You should not linger on deck, lady.’

Maribel jumped guiltily as she heard the pirate captain’s voice.

‘I see that you have allowed Captain Hynes to live.’

‘Against the will of some of my men.’ Justin’s gaze narrowed. ‘Have you some affection for this man?’

‘None, sir. I merely regret any bloodshed.’

‘It is necessary at times, but we are not monsters. We kill only when we must.’

‘Then why are you pirates? Could you not find an honest trade?’

‘You ask too many questions, Donna Maribel.’

‘You know my name—may I not at least know yours, sir?’

‘Captain Sylvester, at your service.’

‘Do not mock me. If you were at my service, you would not have kidnapped me.’

‘I saw no force used, lady. You walked aboard my ship willingly.’

‘Because I was given no choice! What would you have done had I refused?’

‘Ah…’ His eyes gleamed with mockery. ‘I should then have had to carry you on board myself, for I would have no other lay their hands on you. As Captain I have first choice of the spoils—and you are my share, lady.’

‘You promised to ransom me…’ Maribel’s heart raced as she looked into his eyes. They were so blue that she thought of a summer sky and for a moment she was drawn to him, but there was ice at their centre and she shivered, sensing his anger.

‘Perhaps I shall…’ Justin did not smile. ‘Yet there is something about you that I think might be worth more than mere gold. So perhaps you should not tarry; I have work to do and you will be safe in your cabin.’

What did he mean? Her heart jerked with fright and yet her body tingled, making her feel more alive than she had for a long, long time. He might be a pirate and a rogue, but there was something compelling about Captain Sylvester—something that made her heart beat faster.

She turned and hastened towards the open hatch. Her pulses were racing as she climbed down the ladder taking her to the cabins below. She squashed the feeling that she might like him if she allowed herself to judge him fairly. No, she would not give in to weakness. The pirate captain was a devil! An arrogant, wicked, mocking devil and she hated him! Yet at the back of her mind a little voice was telling her that he had saved her from a fate that might have been far worse than her present situation.

Maribel stared out of the porthole at the calm sea. They had been at sea for two days and she had not left her cabin. She turned her head as her maid entered. Anna brought her food and wine each day and already knew her way about the ship.

‘The captain says you may come on deck for some air, my lady—but that you should keep your head covered for the sun is hot and he would not have you take harm.’

‘You may tell Captain Sylvester that I have no wish to come on deck or to mix with rogues.’

Anna looked at her oddly. ‘Do you think it wise to send such a message, my lady?’

‘How would you have me address him—as a friend?’ Maribel knew that her maid’s counsel was wise, but something inside her would not allow her to give in so easily.

‘We have not been treated ill…’

‘Indeed?’ Maribel’s dark eyes flashed. ‘If you do not think it ill to be abducted and forced aboard a pirate ship, I do. Sylvester had no right to take us captive.’

‘He had the right—’ tis the law of the sea. He might have sunk the vessel and all with it, but only those that resisted were harmed, and I think none killed. It is not always the case with pirates. Had we been taken by corsairs we should be dead or on our way to a slave market, where we should be sold to the highest bidder.’

Maribel wrinkled her brow. She knew that her maid spoke the truth; they could have fared worse. However, she had no intention of relenting towards the pirate.

‘You will please give my message to the captain, as I bid you.’

‘Yes, my lady—but should you not like to go on deck for some air?’

‘Not with rogues!’

Maribel turned back to her view of the sea. She was longing for some fresh air, tired of being cooped up in her cabin, and yet her pride would not let her give in.

After Anna had left her, Maribel ate a piece of bread and a mouthful of cheese. The bread was coarse and harder than she was used to, but the cheese tasted good. She sipped her wine, then put it down and began to pace the cabin. How long would it be before they made land? Where was the pirate taking her—and what would happen next?

‘Forgive me, sir. My mistress is proud and bid me answer you in her own words. She is angry because she was forced to come aboard your ship.’

‘Do not look anxious, Anna,’ Justin said, a wry smile on his mouth. ‘I shall not blame you for your mistress’s words. I shall leave her to her own devices for a few days and then we shall see.’

‘She needs to come up for some air or she will be ill.’

‘Is she unwell? Does she suffer from sickness?’

‘She is well enough, but I know she is fretting.’

Justin inclined his head. ‘I shall speak to the foolish woman myself.’

He spoke to his first officer and then left the bridge. The Spanish woman was proud and ill tempered. When he first saw her she had taken his breath with her exotic beauty. Her hair was dressed across her forehead and caught in ringlets at either side of her face in the Spanish style, her clothes heavy and ugly compared with the gowns his mother had worn, for Lady Devere’s gowns had come from France. Donna Maribel Sanchez was proud, cold and disdainful, as were most of her kind. Clearly she considered no one but herself and was furious at finding herself a captive. Her maid was concerned for her and would bear the brunt of her sickness if she fell ill. She deserved to be taught a lesson and yet he had seen spirit in her, something fine and lovely. He would not have her become sickly from lack of fresh air.

Outside her cabin door, he paused and then knocked. There was a moment’s hesitation and then the word ‘enter’ spoken in a way that made him smile inwardly.

‘Donna Maribel,’ he said as he entered the cabin, ‘I understand you are frightened to come on deck because you think us rogues and murderers.’

‘I am not afraid, sir!’ Maribel’s head came up with a flash of pride. ‘I simply do not wish to consort with murdering rogues…pirates.’

‘I shall not deny that we are pirates, for’ tis clearly our trade. However, my men are not wicked rogues. They were driven to mutiny by a cruel master and must now earn their living by roaming the seas in search of rich merchant ships to plunder.’

‘You do not consider that makes you rogues?’ She looked at him scornfully.

‘Did you see anyone murdered aboard Captain Hynes’s ship?’

‘No…’ She looked at him uncertainly. ‘You said your men wished to hang him.’

‘Yet I did not allow it. Some men in my position would have taken the ship as well as the cargo and hung or marooned those who would not join us.’

She was forced to acknowledge that he spoke the truth. When he spoke softly to her, she found herself drawn to him against her will, but she was not ready to admit defeat.

‘Very well, not murderers, but still thieves, for you took what was not yours.’

‘We are adventurers. We take what we need, but we do not harm innocent women and children; men are given the chance to surrender and join us or go on their way. Your maidservant has not been harmed and you may walk safely on our decks. I give you my word that not one member of my crew will lay a finger on you.’

‘The word of a pirate?’

‘My word is as good as any man’s.’ Justin moved towards her. She gasped and stepped back, her eyes widening as if she thought he would repeat the punishing kiss he had given her before. ‘You are quite safe, as long as you behave yourself, lady. I have never yet taken an unwilling woman…’ He laughed mockingly. ‘Most come willingly enough to my bed.’ His voice had a deep, sensual timbre that sent shivers down her spine. ‘I shall not deny that I think you desirable, but I shall never force you to lie with me. You must come to me of your own free will…as you may one day.’

‘If you imagine that I would lie with you willingly…’ Maribel’s manner was one of disdain, but underneath her heart was hammering wildly in her breast; the picture his words conjured up was disturbing. She suddenly saw him bending over her as she lay in silken sheets, his mouth soft and loose with desire, his breath warm on her face, and her throat closed as she was pierced with desire. She gripped her hands at her sides, controlling her feelings, as she had been taught from childhood. A high-born lady did not allow herself to be seduced by a pirate, despite his undoubted charm. It was a picture too shocking to be contemplated. Turning away, she used anger to hide her confusion. This was madness! She was beginning to like him and she must not. ‘You are a mocking rogue, Captain Sylvester. I shall never come to you in that way.’

‘So be it…but still you are free to take the air every day for an hour or so. If you stay here in your cabin you may become ill and we have no time to spare for nursing a sick woman. I shall not force you to come up, but if you are not sensible I may have to persuade you.’

‘What do you mean?’ Maribel’s heart raced and she caught her breath as her senses whirled and she imagined what he might do. ‘You wouldn’t dare…’

Justin moved in closer, towering over her. ‘I dare anything, lady—but I mean you no harm. We shall soon reach a secluded cove on the island of Mallorca, where I mean to go ashore and replenish our water supplies before we set sail for Cyprus.’

His words banished the foolish thoughts, making her angry once more. ‘Cyprus? No, I shall not go with you, sir. You promised you would ransom me to my family! How dare you take me to Cyprus? I demand to be returned to Spain!’

‘I believe I made no promises.’ Justin’s gaze narrowed. ‘I have learned that you know nothing of your affianced husband—or his cousin. You would not go so gladly to your wedding if you knew what manner of men they were, believe me.’

‘I do not go gladly, but I must obey my father. He controls the fortune my husband left to me and I have no choice…’ Her throat closed and the tears stood on her lashes. She looked at him with an unconscious appeal in her eyes. Could she trust him? If he spoke the truth, it seemed her father had betrayed her. She had never felt more alone in her life. ‘Is Lord Roberts truly the monster you told me?’

‘When I knew of him he was steeped in vice and, I believe, riddled with the pox. I would not have expected him to live long enough to take a bride. If you lie with him, he will infect you with some foul disease—a disease that will cause you great suffering, perhaps even your death.’

Maribel’s face was ashen. ‘My father could not have known he was so evil…’ Her voice broke on a sob. ‘My first husband loved me. He loved me…’ The tears slid down her cheeks, her pride forgotten for the moment. ‘I would rather die than become the wife of such a monster.’

Justin moved in closer. ‘Do not weep, lady. I would not see you break your heart. Perhaps the future holds more than you might think.’ His hand moved out to touch her, but fell without doing so. ‘For your own sake, come on deck for some air—or I may have to fetch you!’

Maribel looked up at him. Something about him then made her long to trust him. For some foolish reason she wanted to go to his arms, lay her head against his shoulder and weep, but pride made her raise her head once more. She was so alone and he seemed to offer comfort, yet how could she trust a pirate?

‘You swore none of your men would lay a hand on me,’ she said and even as she spoke saw his frown and regretted that her words broke the tiny thread that had held them.

‘Aye, I did—but I said nothing of myself.’ Justin glared at her. ‘’Pon my soul, lady, you could do with a lesson in manners—and I’ve a mind to give it! Think yourself fortunate that I have much to do on deck.’

He went out, letting the cabin door close behind him with a bang. Maribel caught her breath—she knew that she had pushed him hard. If he lost patience with her, he could make her very sorry for daring to challenge him. She sat down on the edge of the bed, her thoughts whirling in confusion. Her upbringing had taught her that men of his kind were not to be trusted, and yet her instincts told her that he was a man she could turn to in times of trouble. There was no reason why he should help her, and yet a little voice in her head told her that if she asked for help he might give it.

Maribel knew that the ship was no longer moving. She could see the coast of an island a short distance away and understood that they had anchored in the bay. Although she had never been there, she believed they were close to the island of Mallorca. Don Sabatini had estates here, brought to him by his second wife Juanita, who had come from the island. Maribel wondered if there might be cousins or relatives of her stepmother living here. Would they know her if she managed to get ashore? Would they help her to escape from the pirates who had captured her?

Yet if she did escape, what would happen to her? Would her father still force her to marry Lord Roberts? She doubted that he would believe her if she told him that the man was a disease-ridden monster. He would never take the word of a pirate captain, and perhaps she should ignore it—and yet why should Captain Sylvester lie about such a thing? How could it benefit him?

Maribel jumped as the cabin door opened. She swung round, half-expecting another visit from the captain since she had ignored his advice to go on deck, but it was only Anna.

‘We are to go ashore this evening,’ Anna told her. ‘The pirates will provision the ship ready for the voyage to Cyprus and it is the last chance for us to go ashore before we reach our destination.’