Free The Pirate's Willing Captive by Anne Herries Page A

she had never known with her husband, but to love and not be loved in return would break her heart.
    ‘Forgive me, Pablo,’ she whispered, saying goodbye to the memories she had treasured. No longer a child, she felt that she was at the threshold of becoming a woman—if only she had the courage to step over.
    * * *
    Justin watched the woman as she stood at the prow of the ship, her long hair blowing softly in the breeze. She had abandoned her formal ringlets and the new style suited her. There was pride in every line of her body. She was a true lady and it showed in all she did, in her every movement and her speech. Her smile was an enchantment, though it was seen seldom enough. Sometimes when, as now, she stood staring out to sea, there was an air of sadness about her that wrenched at his heart. He could only guess at the causes. Was she missing her home or her husband?
    Justin was aware of a nagging jealousy. Pablo Sanchez must have been a true man to hold her heart beyond the grave. Given the choice she would remain faithful to her dead husband, but for how long? Anger stirred in him. She should not be allowed to waste her life in regret for a man who could no longer hold or love her. Such beauty should be for the living.
    Seeing her day by day as they sailed, spending a few moments in her company, explaining the way the sails were worked and the tools that he used for reading the stars to guide them on their journey, had brought him to a closer understanding with her. Her eyes no longer held that faint hint of fear whenever he approached. He believed she was beginning to trust him, to respect his word—but did she like him? Did she feel anything more than respect?
    Justin had given his word that she would be safe from him and his crew. He had told her that she mustcome to him willingly, but he did not believe that it would happen. It would have been better to have taken her to England, given her money and let her find her own family, but the crew might have mutinied.
    No, he would not lie to himself. He could have found a way to persuade them, but he had not wanted to part from her too soon. She drew him like a moth to a flame, but he knew that he would be foolish to hope that a woman like Maribel Sanchez would look twice at a pirate. Her world was not the one he had chosen; there was too wide a divide between them and he did not see how it could be crossed, except in a way that would shame her.
    His smile was wry. Of late she had spoken softly to him, but at the start there had been such contempt in her voice when she spoke of pirates. She had challenged him so proudly and her contempt stung. He had been born to a proud family. There were times when he thought of his home longingly, but how could he ever return? One day Queen Mary would die and, pray God, Elizabeth would reign in her stead. He knew that the charges of treason would then be dropped, but there might be others in their place. He had incited men to mutiny. He had preyed on merchant ships, and the ships of friendly countries, also the Mistress Susanna, which was an English ship. He could not shame his father by returning to a trial and a hanging.
    At the start he had been carried along by his sense of fair play and justice. The men had been ill treated and Captain Smythe had deserved what happened, perhapsmore. Had he left the men to their own devices and gone to France to his cousins, Justin might have been able to return home, but it was too late. In Maribel’s eyes he had seen the disgust and contempt that his mother would feel if she learned what her son had become.
    Justin had not sent word to let his parents know he was still alive. Better that they should think him dead than know what trade he followed…
    * * *
    Maribel sighed as she brushed her hair. The weather had been so hot these past days, and the ship had been becalmed for a short time, making a long journey seem endless. She was desperate to go ashore again, though nervous of what awaited