The Pirate's Willing Captive. Anne HerriesЧитать онлайн книгу.
a sign that she would betray him if she had the chance, but the more he spoke with her the more certain he became that she was innocent. She was certainly proud and wilful, but now that she had stopped fighting him, he found her too attractive for his peace of mind. Something inside him wanted to take away the look of anxiety from her eyes, to hold her and comfort her, and assure her that nothing would ever harm her again.
A rueful smile touched his mouth. Justin had loved once with all his heart, but the girl he would have made his wife had died suddenly of a fever a few days before their wedding. He had vowed that he would never allow himself to feel that kind of love again, to feel the deep dark despair and the pain that had almost torn him apart.
It was because of Angeline’s death that he had become involved with the wild friends that had talked of deposing Queen Mary and setting Princess Elizabeth in her place. His despair had led him to drink too much and become careless—and that was what had brought him to his present situation.
Justin could never ask a woman to marry him, because he was a pirate and he had nothing to offer a decent woman…a woman like Maribel Sanchez.
He should put all thought of her from his mind and make arrangements to restore her to her family as soon as he could. In the meantime it would be better to avoid her company. Being close to her made him think of what might have been—what might be in the future if things were different.
Hearing the knock at her cabin door, Maribel looked up in surprise as the captain walked in. For a moment her heart pounded, but in an instant, she saw that he had not come with seduction on his mind.
‘I thought you might like this, to help you pass the time,’ Justin said, and handed Maribel a small book. It was bound in leather and looked as if it had been much used. ‘It is written in English, but I think you understand the language well enough to enjoy it.’
‘That is kind of you,’ she said. ‘Sometimes the days are long on board ship.’ Opening the pages, she saw it was a book of poetry and exclaimed with pleasure. ‘Oh, how lovely. I shall truly enjoy reading this, Captain Sylvester.’
‘I thought you might,’ he said and smiled. ‘I shall not keep you longer, but finding the book amongst my things made me think that it might please you.’
Maribel stroked the worn leather with her hands reverently. The book contained an anthology of poems by different poets, but as she touched it, she noticed that it fell open at one particular place again and again. Glancing at the poem, she was struck by the title.
‘A Lover’s Lullaby’ by George Cascoigne, she read aloud in wonder, for she would not have thought that such a poem would hold the captain’s interest time and again
Sing lullaby, as women do
Wherewith they bring their babes to rest;
And Lullaby can I sing too,
As womanly as can the best.
With lullaby they still the child;
And if I be not much beguiled,
For man a wanton babe have I,
Which must be stilled with lullaby.
Her eyes scanned the following verses, which told a sad but poignant tale, of a woman who, it seemed had borne children out of wedlock, and must pay the price.
It was a beautiful set of verses, and yet Maribel wondered why it had drawn the captain to it so many times.
Maribel had been taking the air on deck. The sun was very warm and she fanned herself lazily, looking out across the water. They had been at sea for several days now and the weather had remained fine all that time.
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