The Pirate's Willing Captive (9 page)

A nerve flicked in his throat. ‘It is my fault that you are here, lady. I have put my mark on you for your protection—it is all I could do to protect you. However, when we leave here you will be as you are now. I shall not abuse the situation. I have apologised, but I cannot change what is done. You must accept it and wait patiently until I can take you to your family.’

Maribel hesitated, then inclined her head. ‘Yes, I shall trust you to keep your word, sir. Thank you. I shall be happy to live under your protection.’

Justin smiled and moved closer. ‘I will make your stay here as pleasant as I can, Madonna. I wish that it had been possible to take you to your family immediately. I was wrong to bring you here, but I thought it best.’ A wry smile touched his mouth. ‘Your family will never know anything of your stay here. I promise you that when I take you to them they will accept my story that I have merely been your escort.’ He arched one eyebrow. ‘You suspected that I was once a gentleman. I know how to play the part and will not let you down, Maribel.’

The way he said her name then made Maribel’s insides curl with a feeling she knew was desire. His mouth was curving in a mocking smile. She longed to be in his arms and to feel that mouth take possession
of hers, as it had once before. It was all she could do to stop herself swaying towards him. She wanted to give herself to him, to tell him that she would be his woman in truth, but pride held her back.

The expression in his eyes told her that he desired her but she knew that he did not love her. He had made it clear that a man such as he had no time for softness or love. Maribel was certain that to give herself to this man would mean loving him—the kind of love that would become a consuming flame. If she gave him her heart, he would crush it beneath his boots.

‘You speak my name,’ she said. ‘But I know you only as Captain Sylvester. I do not think it is your true name.’

‘I may not give you my family name—it would shame them.’ His eyes were flinty, distant. ‘They do not know that I have become a pirate and it would hurt them. However, my Christian name is Justin…’

‘Justin…’ she breathed. ‘Justin…’ A smile touched her mouth. ‘Yes, I like it very well. It suits you, sir—for you are a just man.’

‘Am I?’ He moved in closer, gazing down at her. ‘I retain some honour, Maribel, but a man may only be tempted so far. Be careful how far you tempt me—and wear your petticoats or I may not be responsible for my action.’

‘Justin…’ Her stomach clenched as his hot eyes scorched her. ‘Forgive me. I did not mean to tempt you or any man. My gowns were so hot…but I shall be more sensible in future.’

‘Be careful when out walking,’ he said. ‘I have purchased
some lighter gowns for you with fine petticoats that will not be so heavy. I should have sent them immediately, but I was caught up with other things. I shall have them taken to my house. They will await you in your room—and now I shall take my leave of you before I lose all sense of honour.’

He turned and walked away from her. Maribel watched. She longed with all her heart to call him back, but her pride held. He spoke of honour and yet he mocked her. If he cared for her, he would surely have asked her to be his wife, but he did not want a wife—only a mistress.

She knew that she had only to say the word and she could become his woman in truth, for she had seen desire in his eyes and felt an answering need in herself. Yet if she were so lost to all pride and sense of what was fitting that she gave herself to him it could only bring unhappiness in the end.

A little voice in her head told her that it would be worth the risk to know the sweetness of lying with him, of being safe in his arms—but he did not love her. He had told her that he had once loved a woman and would not give his heart again. She could be his mistress if she chose, but not his wife.

‘W
hy didn’t you tell me that you were Sylvester’s woman?’ Peg said when Maribel mentioned that he was sending someone to take her to his house and to fetch her trunk later that day. ‘You would not have needed to help with the chores if I’d known you were special to him.’

‘I did not mind helping,’ Maribel said and blushed. ‘It is good to understand what other people have to do.’

‘Show me your hands.’ Maribel held them out and Peg frowned as she saw the red marks on the palms. ‘You should have told me that you had never done hard work. I should not have asked you to carry water from the well if I had known. I’ll give you some salve for your hands.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘It’s the first time I’ve known Sylvester to take a woman under his protection. You must have made an impression on him! There will be some jealous females once‘ tis known you’ve done what none other could.’ Peg grinned suddenly. ‘What is
he like as a lover? I’ve thought many a time I would be happy to lie with such a man!’ She threw back her head and laughed as Maribel flushed. ‘I thought not! You have not lain in his bed, have you? He is protecting you from scum like Pike.’

‘Why do you say that?’ Maribel looked at her.

‘You are innocent, child. Anyone with sense can see it in your eyes. Besides, I know his heart is in the grave of the woman he loved.’

‘He has told you this?’ Maribel felt as if a knife had entered her breast, because to hear it from Peg seemed to make the woman real instead of the shadowy person Justin had mentioned in passing. ‘He has spoken to you of this woman—you know who she was?’

‘That I cannot reveal without telling his secret,’ Peg said. ‘Before I came here I was a servant in a big house. When I killed the rat that raped me I should have hanged had it not been for Sylvester. He took me from the hellhole I was locked in and set me free. I escaped to sea with a man I cared for. I know that Sylvester’s heart was broken when the woman he was to marry died of a fever a few days before their wedding…and if you tell him that I revealed so much I’ll slit your throat myself!’

He had lost his love shortly before his wedding day. It was not surprising that he could never think of putting another woman in her place. Maribel felt a flow of sympathy for him, feeling his hurt and the pain it must have caused him. In that moment she wanted to put her arms about him and kiss away all the grief and pain, to
make him whole again. She knew how it felt to lose someone you loved and she had loved Pablo as a brother. How would it feel to lose someone who meant so much more—someone who was a part of you?

‘I swear I shall not reveal what you have told me.’ Maribel said. Her heartbeat had returned to normal. Peg had told her something so revealing that she thought it had begun to explain the mystery that was Captain Justin Sylvester. Sylvester was not his true name. He had come from a respectable family, from what Peg had hinted, perhaps a great family.

The mystery was deep and she might never reach the bottom of it, but Maribel suspected that she might be falling deeply in love with the man himself. He
was
a gentleman despite his present situation. He was also a man of honour.

Why did he believe he could not return to his homeland? What had he done that was so terrible?

She knew that he could be harsh. It was necessary to discipline the men that served with him. Yet he could also be compassionate and honourable.

Maribel’s heart ached as she saw to the packing of her own trunk for the move to Justin’s house. Being here on the island had caused her to lose so many inhibitions that she had had before being taken captive. When she first left for England she had been very much the correct Spanish lady. She was not certain who she was any more. Maribel was not sure that she would ever be able to give orders to a servant in the way she once had, taking it for granted that they should obey her
every whim, though she would be expected to do so once she was living with her English family.

If only there was another way to live! One that was possible for her. She did not think that she could be happy living on the island, because the pirates were dangerous, coarse men and she would always fear most of them. Yet to return to the kind of life she had known in her father’s house would be hard.

She thought that she would like to live simply in a modest house, somewhere in the country—perhaps a farm—but with whom? One face filled her mind, but she struggled to push it away. To dream of such happiness was foolish.

Justin Sylvester was not looking to settle to a quiet life. He might desire Maribel, but he did not love her. He did not wish for a wife, merely a mistress to lie with when it suited him.

Blinking back her tears, Maribel dressed herself in a thin shift, one petticoat and the thinnest gown she possessed. She looked respectable, because her hair was disciplined into the ringlets she had worn at home. She had teased her comb into her tangled hair, curling it about her fingers. The effect was not quite as neat as when Anna dressed her hair, but she did not look like the wanton hoyden Justin had rescued from that vile man.

Lifting her head, Maribel glanced at herself in her tiny silver-backed mirror. She vaguely resembled the formal lady that had first set sail for England, though she knew that inside she was very different. She had
been living inside a shell, in a cold dark place and barely alive. Now she was aware of her feelings, aware of pain and love and a need that she scarcely understood.

* * *

Maribel glanced round the room she had been given. It was furnished with an impressive tester bed of Spanish hardwood and hung with silken drapes. Other hutches made of a similar wood, a stool, and a cupboard on a carved stand had been provided for her comfort. She wondered where and how Justin had come by such fine items. They must either have been captured from Spanish vessels or brought here at some cost—perhaps both. A trunk with iron bands had been delivered and when Maribel opened the lid she discovered the gowns and undergarments she had been promised. They were of such fine silk that she knew they must have been extremely costly. Because of their light weight she knew that they would be much more comfortable than the heavier gowns she had prepared for her trousseau. She had deliberately chosen heavy materials because she had been told she would need them in the cooler climate of England.

She was finding herself more and more reluctant to complete her journey to the home of her mother’s family. Yet what else was there for her? If she gave herself to Justin without marriage, she would indeed be a whore. What if he tired of her? Where would she go and what would she do then?

The questions weighed heavily on her mind. Her
heart was telling her that even a short time as his woman—to lie in his arms and experience his loving—would be worth losing her honour. However, her mind reminded her that she was a lady and gently born. Her father might be a tyrant and a murderer, but her mother was undoubtedly a lady. If she gave up honour for love, she could never return to the life she was meant to live. She would be an outcast and might one day be forced to earn her living on her back. Yet she was not even sure that she had a family who would take her in, though Juanita had told her that she had an uncle in England and named him. She had received no letters from him. Perhaps he would not wish to know her.

Maribel’s tortured thoughts were scattered as Anna came into the room bearing clean linen for the bed.

‘This is a fine house,’ Anna told her. ‘True it is built mainly of wood, but the foundations are set on stone. It should withstand the worst of winter storms.’

‘Yes, it is stout enough.’ Maribel gave a little shiver. ‘I should not want to live here all the time. Are you sure you wish to settle here, Anna? If you change your mind, you will have a place with me—if my family can be found and will accept me.’

‘I thank you, my lady, but in England I should always be a servant. Here I can be my own person.’

‘Surely you and Higgins could have an inn or a shop of your own in England?’

‘It would not be the same. You have always been a lady. You do not know what it is like for the people who serve you. The laws are harsh in Spain for such as us,
and Higgins says it is the same in England. A man can be hung for stealing game from the woods, even if he only did so to save his family from starvation. Besides, Higgins would be hanged as a mutineer if he returned to his home country. If he cannot live there nor shall I.’

Anna’s words struck home. Maribel had been spoiled in some ways, for she had been waited on and given fine clothes and good food, but in other ways she had been poor. She had never known her father’s love or felt her mother’s arms about her. Juanita had been good to her, but after her death Maribel had felt alone and at times unhappy. She would not wish to return to a life like that—in Spain or England.

She sighed. ‘Is there no country on this earth where a man can be free from such harsh laws? I know you say there is freedom on the island, but the men here…’ She shook her head. ‘I do not care for men like Pike or pirates.’ Save one, her heart said, but she would not voice her true feelings for the man she knew would never love her. Peg had told her that his heart belonged to the woman he had meant to marry. Justin had told her himself that he had no intention of taking a wife.

‘Well,’ tis what I have chosen,’ Anna said. ‘The life may not be perfect, but I have no family waiting for me in England. I would not wish to return to Spain—I should have nothing to look forward to there.’

‘You must do as you please, but I could not live here—even though this house is well enough for a short visit.’

Maribel said the words carelessly, though it was not
the house that she found lacking, merely the knowledge that she did not belong on this island.

* * *

Justin paused outside the open door and listened to the conversation between the two women inside. He had come to ask if Maribel had all that she required, but he had his answer. It had cost him far more than he had intended to spend to furnish the house to a standard he considered suitable for her use. In his foolish desire to please, he had imagined that she would understand that he had provided the best the island had to offer. It seemed that she found it lacking—as she had found him lacking.

He had given her his first name as a proof that he was willing to lower the barriers between them. Yet now he was glad that he had not revealed his other secrets to her. She did not care for pirates—or their captain presumably. It had seemed to him that she was warming towards him…that she felt something of the passion her beauty aroused in him—but it would seem that he had deceived himself.

She was willing to accept his hospitality for a short visit, because she knew that she would be safe beneath his roof. Clearly she could hardly wait for their stay on the island to be over so that she could continue her journey to England and the family that awaited her.

Frowning, Justin walked away. He had business enough to keep him occupied. His crew wanted only gold or silver that they could spend, which meant that he must bargain with the merchants and other captains
for the best prices for the goods they had taken. The chests of silver had already been divided according to the rules of the brethren. He had spent much of his captain’s share, which was the largest, but still only a portion of that taken. Each man was paid according to his standing, and even Tom the cabin boy now had more money than he could have earned in ten years before the mast. If he took care of his share, he could be a rich man in another year or so—they all could be if they continued to be as lucky as they had been this trip.

Justin had wondered if his share would buy him a new life somewhere. Not here on the island. The money he had spent here could be recouped when he left, or at least a part of it; he might not get back all for he knew he had spent recklessly to buy things of quality for Maribel. Yet where could he go to start this new life?

Maribel had asked where on this earth there was a country where the laws were fair to all men. Not a pirates’ haven, but a land where a man could breathe and make a fine life for himself and his family.

Anna had not known how to answer her and Justin did not know either. He had left England under a cloud for speaking his mind. He had neither spoken nor committed treason. However, just for voicing his opinion that it was wrong to send a man to the fire simply because he followed a different religion, he could have been condemned as a traitor and executed. Perhaps if the old queen were dead he might have found a better life…but not with the stain of piracy hanging over him.
His father would not accept him. He would accuse him of bringing shame to their name and it was true.

So if he could not return to England, where would he find the life he craved? Not in Spain and perhaps not in France—his cousins might also think he had brought shame on them. Justin would have to think again. There must surely be a country where he could find the life and the freedom he craved…

* * *

Maribel saw him chopping wood in the yard at the back of the house. Justin had taken off his shirt and his skin glistened with sweat. His body was tanned and his strong muscles rippled as he worked. Her eyes fastened on him hungrily and she was aware of heat spreading through her from low in her abdomen. He was beautiful and she wanted to touch him, to run her hands over his back and touch the scars she thought must have come from cruel whips when he served before the mast. No wonder he had taken the law into his own hands. The master of that ship deserved to lose his position! Yet it had made Justin something he had no wish to be, an exile from the law and his home. For the first time Maribel began to understand why a man might become a pirate. She watched him a little longer from her window. Justin was working so hard, attacking the wood as if it were his enemy. She thought he must be angry for his actions seemed those of a man bent on spending his frustration in work and there was surely no need for so much kindling.

Picking up the hat with a wide brim that he had so
thoughtfully provided, Maribel put it on and fastened it to her hair with silver pins. She went out of the house, hearing the rustle of her skirts and relishing the feel of the silky material against her flesh. She had never worn anything as fine as this and thought that even her stepmother had not owned silk as costly as she was wearing now.