In the Tudor Court Collection. Amanda McCabe
is nothing to forgive. You were as gentle with me as you could be. Besides, it was what I wanted.’
Justin rolled on to his back. ‘Your husband must have been very young.’
‘My own age, sixteen when we wed, barely seventeen when he died. Why do you ask that?’ She turned her head on the pillow to look at him.
‘I cannot imagine why a man of any age would not want to lie with you, Maribel. Even Tom was in love with you—the poor lad.’
‘Poor Tom.’ Maribel raised herself on one arm to gaze down at him. ‘I think Pablo was perhaps not as other men—not as you are, Justin. I loved him dearly but I see now that we were friends, or close like sister and brother perhaps.’
‘Yes, perhaps.’ Justin sat up and reached for his breeches, pulling them on and then his boots. His shirt was too torn to wear and he grinned as he tossed it to her. ‘Perhaps you would mend this for me?’
‘Of course…’ She sat up, her long hair falling forward over her breasts. ‘I am yours to command, Justin. Your woman, your—’
‘No! Not whore, never that,’ he said and frowned. ‘When we reach England I shall take you to your mother’s family, Maribel…Nay, do not look so. I mean not to abandon you, my love. I must discover how the land lies. I shall wed you, Maribel, but things have altered now.’
‘You will wed me? But you said…you wished only for a mistress.’
‘I said many foolish things in my pride. I can never let you go. You must be my wife, but I cannot expect you to live as we have lived these past months. You must have a home worthy of you.’
‘Surely you know that I would live anywhere with you?’
‘We can never return to the island, nor would I wish that kind of a life for you. You are a lady, gently born. You deserve the life you were born for. I shall strive to give you all that you should have by rights. It may take some time—I must clear my name if I can, though I fear it may not be possible.’ His expression was serious. ‘If I am not welcome at my home it may be that we shall have to live elsewhere. I have money despite the loss of two ships. There is money held by the goldsmiths in London that was left for me by my great-grandfather, who died just after I was born. We may have to live in France or Italy, but I promise I will make a home worthy of you, my darling.’
‘I shall be content to be with you wherever we live.’
‘Yet I know that I can never be worthy of you. I wish…’ He shook his head and smiled oddly. ‘The past is gone. We may both regret things that were, but we shall have no regrets. We shall look to the future and it will be good for us.’
‘Yes…it will be good for us.’
Something in his eyes caused a shiver to run down her spine. He was so urgent, so grim. What wasn’t he telling her?
Chapter Nine
Justin went straight to his cabin to find a fresh shirt. He did not wish what had just happened to be whispered of by the crew. They might suspect it, but there was no need to confirm their suspicions. His conscience had begun to bother him from the moment he learned of Maribel’s virginity. He could scarcely believe that she had been married for almost a year and remained a virgin. What kind of a man had her husband been? Perhaps the kind that preferred to lie with his own sex.
Justin knew that something had changed in him once he learned the truth. Until that moment he had fought the little voice in his head that told him she was special to him. He had tried to convince himself that she was just a beautiful woman and that all he felt for her was desire. Having had her in his arms, known her absolute surrender, he felt humbled and guilty for having destroyed her innocence. She was a lovely, loving woman and she deserved so much more than he could give her. He must and would find a better life for them both. When he became a pirate he had had no choice, but now he must take his fate into his own hands.
How could he ask her to share the kind of life that might well be his in the future? Justin knew that his life would be forfeit if Queen Mary still lived. She would not listen to anything he had to say excusing the mutiny—in the eyes of her council he was already guilty of treason.
Only if Elizabeth had succeeded her sister would Justin have a chance of returning to his home. He believed that his mother would forgive anything, but his father might not wish to receive him. His great-grand-father’s legacy was lodged with the goldsmiths in London. Justin could collect the gold and take Maribel to France or Italy; there they could mix with people of her own class, but would it be enough for her? Neither of them would have family about them. Would she come to resent him for taking her away from her family?
It might have been better if he had resisted her invitation, but the appeal in her eyes had broken his will, an overwhelming desire to make love to her sweeping all else from his mind. He knew that he would never have enough of her. Just the thought of her, of her scent and the softness of her body as she yielded to him was enough to make him hard again.
He couldn’t give her up! He might not be worthy of her, but she was imprinted into his mind and his body and to lose her now would tear him apart.
Justin decided that he would take Maribel to her relatives and then visit his father. If the situation were favourable, he would journey to court to plead for his freedom and forgiveness. He thought of the chest of Spanish silver in his cabin. Perhaps if he presented that to Elizabeth as a gift—pray God she was now Queen!—she would find it in her heart to forgive him.
Later that evening Maribel glanced at Justin as he stood on the bridge. He was at the wheel as the order to bring down the sails and anchor was given. They had chosen to anchor just off the white cliffs of Dover, the plan being to use the rowing boats to take her and Justin and some of the crew ashore the next morning. Most of the men had voted to stay on board, because they feared they might hang if they set foot in England. She knew that Justin had promised he would secure pardons for them all if he could.
‘I shall take you to your mother’s family, Maribel,’ he had told her the previous night when he came to her cabin. ‘Once I know you are safe with them I shall journey to my home and then, if Elizabeth is Queen, to London. I shall ask her to pardon us all for the mutiny.’
‘Will she grant you a pardon?’ Maribel’s eyes widened in fear. ‘Supposing she refuses?’
‘I shall hang and my men will sail away without me.’
‘What of me?’
‘You will be safe with your family.’
Maribel felt sick with fear. ‘Why must you risk your life after everything we have found together? Turn the ship about. Let us sail for Italy or France. I beg you not to do this, Justin.’
‘I have to do it.’ His mouth set into a hard line. ‘I have money with the goldsmiths and I must claim it if we are to live as a gentleman and his wife should. I owe it to my family to explain what happened when I disappeared—and I owe it to myself to at least try to clear my name, Maribel. Please try to understand how I feel.’
She looked into his eyes, then shook her head. ‘Our love is more important than all the rest. You have your ship. You could earn enough money for us to live on without this foolishness.’
Justin reached out, taking her chin in his hand, tipping it so that he forced her to look at him. ‘Will you scold me, lady? Have I found myself a nagging wife?’
Maribel shook her head. ‘You make fun of me! I do not find this amusing, sir. If they hang you it will break my heart. I shall have nothing to live for.’ Tears hung on her lashes and then slipped down her cheeks. ‘Please, I beg you, let us go now while we may.’
‘But I cannot claim you as my wife unless I have made some effort to throw off the shadow that hangs over me. I am a pirate, Maribel, and as such I am not worthy. I must see my family and receive my father’s blessing if he will give it—and hope